Damn and double damn. Cynda rushed along the hallway toward the main entrance. If she didn’t hurry, she would miss the train to town. Not having a watch was a real problem.
She nearly plowed Dimitri over when he stepped into her path. He caught her arms to steady her as she regained her footing. She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“You’re in a hurry.”
“I want to catch the train to town.”
“I believe you’re too late.” Dimitri tilted his head toward the front doors. “Yes, there’s the whistle.”
Cynda grimaced. Another long walk to town. At least it was downhill this time. “Oh, well. One of these days I’ll make the train.”
“I am planning to visit town today. Would you care to accompany me?”
“Excuse me?” Cynda searched his face, but saw no signs of guile in his expression. “Who else is going?”
A slight frown creased Dimitri’s forehead. “Alexi is sitting with Grandmère, if that is what you wish to know.”
“I was wondering more about a chaperone.” She grinned. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
To her surprise, he nodded. “Sometimes.” He suddenly broke into a radiant smile. “But not today.” He motioned toward the door. “Shall we?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Pleasure was the right word. Any time spent in Dimitri’s company, whether passing in the hallway or serving him dinner, sent a tingle through her veins. The man’s effect on her was headier than two bottles of wine.
He had a buggy waiting out front and assisted her into it. The day was brilliant with a just-washed blue sky and gentle breeze to ease the heat and humidity. Cynda wore her blue dress and a simple hat she had purchased during her last trip into Hope Springs.
As she sat beside Dimitri, she stole a glance at his profile. His chin was firmer than Alexi’s, she decided, and his eyelashes slightly longer. The structure of his face, though similar to his brother’s, was a little more rugged, and his mouth was—she sighed—to die for. Those full, sensual lips were made for kissing, and from the memories of her dream, he knew how to put them to fine use.
He turned and caught her staring, and she looked away quickly, then back. “How is your grandmother doing?” she asked.
“She is healing, though not as rapidly as the doctor would prefer. It appears we will have to stay longer than planned.”
“Oh?” When was he leaving? Soon?
“We had hoped to return by September before winter affected our voyage across the ocean, but the doctor says Grandmère will not be able to travel until November at the earliest.” Dimitri tightened his hands on the reins. “At that date, it is too late to make the trip. We shall have to wait until spring.”
Drat. So much for getting him to leave before December. Dimitri would never desert his grandmother. “Won’t your people miss you?”
“My parents are there. I am not needed yet.” He didn’t sound too upset about having to remain. If not for his looming murder, Cynda would love him to stay. Now she had to discover his murderer before that time.
Realizing that Dimitri expected a response, she forced a smile. “Everyone will be pleased.”
He started to speak, then stopped and concentrated on the road. The wind caught strands of his black hair and tossed them across his forehead and into his eyes. Without thinking, Cynda reached up to brush them back into place.
When Dimitri turned to her, his gaze surprised, she jerked her hand back. What was she doing? “I’m sorry.” Her earlier dreams made her feel a closeness with this man that didn’t really exist. His kisses and lovemaking had been a vivid dream, nothing more.
He lifted one eyebrow in a questioning gesture, but remained silent until they reached Hope Springs. The train had already arrived, and guests from The Chesterfield filled the streets of the small town.
Taking her hand, Dimitri helped her dismount from the buggy. Cynda smiled. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll catch the train back.”
He didn’t release her hand right away, but held her in place when she would’ve fled. “That’s not necessary. I had thought to accompany you.”
Now that’s a switch. Why would he want to spend time with her? “I plan to run several errands.”
“That’s fine. I have no pressing engagements.” Letting her hand slide from his, Dimitri fell into step beside her as she maneuvered her way through the streets. This was only her fourth visit to Hope Springs, but she already knew where she wanted to go.
First stop, the Emporium. While Dimitri gawked at the multitude of merchandise, Cynda purchased more pigment and canvas. She was almost finished with her first painting of The Chesterfield and couldn’t wait to do more.
“You have need of more paints already?” Dimitri asked as they left the store.
“The Chesterfield is a big place.” Cynda grinned. “Plus the leaves will be changing soon, and I want to start a new painting then.”
“Alexi mentioned that you were formally schooled in art.” Though Dimitri’s voice was casual, something in his tone caught Cynda’s attention.
“That’s right. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Instead, you wait tables here?” Puzzlement filled his features.
“I have to sell my paintings in order to make a living at it.” She grimaced. “And so far, I haven’t done a very good job of that.”
“I see.” He remained silent as Cynda wound through the streets to the small dress shop she liked.
“I’ll only be a moment,” she said before she ducked inside. She knew exactly which dress she wanted to purchase this time and went straight to it. Thank goodness it was still there. The style was similar to her plain blue gown, but this one had a vee-shaped yoke and was a lovely shade of dark rose.
“I would like to see that on you.”
She jumped when Dimitri spoke behind her and turned to look at him. “Since my wardrobe is pretty limited, I’m sure you’ll get that chance.”
When she lifted her small change purse to pay, Dimitri caught her arm. “Allow me. I am certain you are not paid much at the hotel.”
The seamstress’s face reflected the shock Cynda felt. “No, thank you.”
Though the morals of the time should probably influence her decision, Cynda’s pride fueled her reaction. “I am paid enough for this.” She completed the purchase quickly and hurried outside.
“I have offended you.” Dimitri joined her. “My apologies.”
“You surprised me,” she admitted. “Isn’t paying for a woman’s clothing a way of implying a relationship?” She cast him a teasing glance. “And I’m certain you don’t want that.”
His face revealed nothing. “Of course not.”
“However, I will allow you to pay for lunch.” She caught his elbow and turned him down the street. “I have discovered the most wonderful restaurant.”
Every time she came to Hope Springs, she made time to visit the Café of Dreams. Besides the wonderful food, the atmosphere reminded her of her own time and brought with it a relaxing familiarity . . . a rarity since her arrival here.
They were seated immediately at a small table in the corner and given menus. The hamburger Cynda loved wasn’t listed, but she only had to ask to get it. “Want to try something different?” she asked.
A glint of humor entered Dimitri’s eyes. “You wish to order for me?”
“Yes.” She grinned. “You won’t be sorry.”
“Very well.” He closed the menu and sat back, his arms crossed and a hint of a smile around his lips. “Surprise me.”
She quickly ordered the awesome burger for each of them, then met Dimitri’s gaze. “If you don’t like this, I’ll . . . I’ll slip you an extra helping at dinner.”
“Is that possible? Chef Sashenka runs a tight kitchen.”
“True.” Cynda sighed. The Russian seemed to have eyes everywhere when it came to the dining room and kitchen. “But it doesn’t matter because you’ll love this meal.”
“I admire your confidence.” Dimitri relaxed in his chair. “Tell me about yourself, Cynda Madison. Who are you?”
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Cynda bit her lip. “I’m a woman of many talents,” she said finally. “You wouldn’t believe all the different jobs I’ve held.”
“Perhaps I would.”
She gave him a challenging look. “I’ve run a dog-walking service, sent people around the world for a travel agency, popped corn in a movie theater, waited tables, and painted houses. Before I came here, I’d completed several jobs restoring old paintings. Turns out I have a knack for it.”
Dimitri frowned. “Travel agency? Movie theater?”
Oops. That would teach her to let her tongue outrace her brain. She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.” Leaning forward, she met his gaze. “What about you?”
“I have spent my life in preparation for my future role as king.”
“And that’s it?” She imagined him sitting through lectures and enduring rigorous training on etiquette. How boring.
“It has taken most of my time.” The humor left him, and Cynda grimaced.
Damn, she had finally had him loosening up and blew it. The arrival of their meal saved her from further mistakes, and she laughed as Dimitri eyed his burger dubiously.
“What is this?” he asked.
“A hamburger. It’s wonderful. Trust me.”
The glance he gave her contained doubt, but he picked up his knife and fork and started to saw at it.
“No, no, no.” Cynda reached across the table and lifted his burger in both hands and lifted it to his lips. “You eat this with your hands.”
“Pardon me?” Dimitri backed away. “It’s rather messy.”
Okay, so it has the dressing dripping from it. “It’s supposed to be messy. That’s how you know it’s good.” She moved the burger closer. “Come on. Take a bite. Just one.”
A small glint of humor returned to his eyes, and he leaned forward to take a bite, nearly pulling it from Cynda’s hands. He brought his hands up over hers to catch it, and she caught her breath with a sharp inhale. The electric chair couldn’t hold as much charge as his touch.
He chewed slowly, then broke into a devastating smile. “It’s different, but I like it.”
“Good.” Cynda lowered his burger to his plate and picked up her own. Lifting it in a mock toast, she grinned. “Enjoy.”
Watching Dimitri devour his meal was more fun than eating her own. He didn’t have her years of experience of handling sloppy burgers, so he tended to spill more onto his plate and his chin.
When Cynda giggled, he cast her a sharp glance, then slowly broke into a low chuckle as he wiped at his face. “I don’t think one napkin will be enough.”
“We can get more.”
She finished first and sat back to enjoy the show. His pleasure obvious, the highborn prince lost his arrogance as he ate the sandwich. The animation and high spirits changed his appearance. Though still handsome, he looked younger, more at ease with himself and the world.
Was it the pressure of becoming king that made him the way he was? As the thought occurred to Cynda, so did another. She would just have to show him how to have fun. Even kings deserved that.
“Excellent choice,” Dimitri said as he finished his meal. He suddenly did a double take and lifted his napkin to dab at the corner of her mouth. “You missed some.” Mischievousness danced in his gaze.
Cynda’s heart somersaulted. “Thank you.” The words emerged in a breathy whisper as she suddenly found it difficult to speak.
He drew his hand away slowly, but didn’t lean away. “You’re welcome.”
Neither moved until the waiter stopped by their table. “Any dessert today?”
“No.” Dimitri spoke abruptly as he sat back. “Thank you. The reckoning will be fine.”
He didn’t look at Cynda as he paid for their meals and stood to pull back her chair. However, at the entrance, he froze and gripped her arm. “We can’t go out there right now.”
“Why not?” Cynda peered outside, then grinned. Several of the Harrington girls were outside the restaurant. In fact, they gave every sign of entering. “I believe they’re coming in.”
Dimitri groaned, and Cynda could see him pull his isolated, arrogant royal persona around him. No, dammit. She didn’t want to lose this more relaxed prince.
She caught his hand in hers. “Come on. There has to be a back entrance.”
He looked startled, but followed her between the tables and into the kitchen. Corrie glanced up and quirked an eyebrow.
“Sorry, Corrie.” Cynda smiled. “Do you have a back door?”
The chef pointed to the opposite end of the room. “There. It leads into the alley.”
“Thanks.” Keeping her grip on Dimitri, Cynda pulled him through the kitchen and out into the narrow alley and toward the street.
Unfortunately, the Misses Harrington were still perusing the menu outside the restaurant, and Cynda jerked backward, falling into Dimitri. He caught her as he staggered back and ended up with her against the brick wall and his arms on either side of her.
Though her pounding heart made it difficult to speak, Cynda grinned. “Not quite safe yet.”
Amusement filled his features as well as something else—an emotion that darkened his eyes to pewter. “You are an extraordinary woman, Cynda.”
“Nice of you to notice,” she quipped, hoping he wouldn’t hear the heavy thudding in her chest.
He reached over to trace the outline of her lips with his thumb, sending a rush of pure longing to her very center.
“Am I . . . am I still messy?” she asked.
“No.” His voice held a huskiness that brought a knot to her stomach. He moved closer until the warmth of his body mingled with hers, his gaze glued to her face, his thumb resting beside her mouth. He curled his fingers beneath her chin to tilt it upward.
Cynda couldn’t look away . . . didn’t want to look away. She ached for his kiss, her hormones threatening to take control from her. “Dimitri,” she whispered.
His mouth bent toward hers.
“Don’t be silly, Sarah. What would the prince be doing in town?” The shrill voice of one of the Harrington daughters pierced the alley quiet, and Dimitri froze, then drew back, dropping his hand.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, turning away.
Forgive him? Never. She wanted his kiss. How dare he stop? Cynda had to take several deep breaths before she could speak.
“Don’t worry about it.” Moving to the alley opening, she peeked around. “They’ve gone inside. It’s safe now.”
They left the alley and hurried past the restaurant. “Is there anywhere else you need to go?” Dimitri asked. His good humor was gone, his tone formal once again.
“No.” She sighed. “We can go back.”
Upon reaching the buggy, he assisted her up, his touch impersonal, then jumped up to join her. As they turned toward the road to The Chesterfield, Cynda finally voiced the question nagging at her. “The Harrington girls aren’t servants. What’s wrong with them?”
“They are still common.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly that Cynda gasped. “So only royal blood is good enough for you?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him in disbelief, then shook her head. “Sheesh.”
“I take it you disapprove?”
“I just don’t understand what makes your blood better than mine. I bet you still bleed red.”
“It is a matter of upbringing.” He cast her a sidelong look. “No woman of breeding would be sitting here without a chaperone.”
“I imagine.” Frustration at his about-face in attitude gnawed at her. How could he be ready to kiss her one moment and then disparage her character the next? “A woman of breeding would probably be sitting in a parlor somewhere, her back rigidly straight as she politely entertained the right kind of people, while in reality she was bored out of her mind.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” His tone implied she was far too common. “Which is why I need to talk to you.”
“You need to talk to me?” No wonder he had offered her a ride. It was always easier to lecture a captive audience. “And what have I done now?”
“I do not like your influence on Alexi.”
She lifted her eyebrows. That again? “My influence on Alexi? What influence?”
“He came in after talking to you and declared he wanted to remain in America and make his own way in life.”
Which, of course, was probably tantamount to suicide as far as Dimitri was concerned. “I don’t see that as a bad thing, but I have never discussed that subject with him.”
“Never?”
Cynda curled her hands into fists. “You may think as little of me as you like, Dimitri, but I am not a liar.”
“Then, it must be due to the open affection you show him.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am nice to him. I like Alexi, but I am not romantically interested in him. I told you that.”
They drew near The Chesterfield, and Dimitri slowed the horse’s pace. “I do not want you to talk to him anymore.”
Did Alexi know how much his brother tried to control his life? Probably. No wonder he rebelled. Cynda shook her head. She still didn’t know if Alexi would be Dimitri’s killer. “Forget it. If he wants to talk to me, I’ll talk to him.”
Dimitri frowned. “I can make your life very unpleasant.”
Cynda stared at him. “Are you threatening me? What do you plan to do? Throw me in the dungeon?”
The buggy slowed by the front entrance, and she jumped from it, nearly tripping over her long skirt. She whirled back toward him. “Go ahead and try, Your Very Royal Blue-Blood Highness.”
With that, she stalked past the staring guests and the drop-jawed porter, Jack O’Riley, into the hotel. Why had she thought saving Dimitri’s life was important? At the moment, she felt like choking him herself.
She blew out her breath in disgust. December couldn’t come too soon. She couldn’t wait to escape this place and return to her own time.
Away from the arrogant, pompous, damned sexy prince.