A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Hey, now you’re the one throwing around propositions.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m glad to see there’s still some of the Demetrius I used to know lurking about.”
She was right. The new Demetrius—the proper one—wouldn’t be flirting and playing with innuendos. Maybe he’d taken the role of crown prince too seriously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “About the mural, what are you suggesting?”
“I have some sketches I’d like to show you. They’re at my apartment. I have one in particular of the beach that I think would be perfect. But I’ll let you pick which sketch I paint.”
“Okay. Let’s go get them.”
“What?” She looked at him as if he’d just spoken in a foreign language.
“We’ll pick up your sketch on the way back to the beach house.”
She shook her head. “No. Never mind.”
He didn’t understand the problem. He was willing to entertain her idea and now she was changing her mind. What in the world had he missed?
His gaze met hers. “You no longer want to do the mural?”
“I want to do it.”
“Good. But if you think you’re going back to your apartment alone with that reporter snooping around then you’re mistaken. It’s my fault that he’s bothering you—”
“No, it isn’t.”
He arched a brow. “We both know it is. He wants a scoop on the crown prince. The more scandalous, the better. And I’m not going to let him near you.”
“You can’t always be there to protect me.”
She was right and he didn’t like it, not one little bit. “But I’m here now.”
Her unwavering gaze met his. “Are you sure you have time?”
“I’m sure. Let’s go.”
IT WILL ALL work out.
That was what Zoe kept telling herself.
She sat next to Demetrius in the same unmarked black sedan that had escorted her to Residenza del Rosa. Demetrius wanted to stir the least amount of public attention as possible. Although with his security detail in the lead with another black car and an additional black car following closely behind, they stood out even here in the capital of Mirraccino. She tried to reason with him to delay the trip, but he was insistent they move on this immediately.
Frantically, she tried to remember what condition she’d left the apartment in when she’d rushed out the door. Sure he’d been there before, but only for a few minutes, most of which he’d spent standing in the hallway. And then he’d been so concerned about the creepy reporter that she doubted he’d noticed much of anything as he rushed off to speak with his security detail.
Had she put away the dishes? Was there still some lingerie on the drying rack? And that basket of laundry—was it still sitting in the living room? Or had she put the clothes away?
She’d always been able to keep him away from her apartment when they were dating. That hadn’t been too hard considering their relationship had been kept on the down low. If her mother had known she was dating the prince, her mother never would have been able to keep the exciting news to herself. Not that Zoe could blame her. At times, she’d felt like she would burst, holding in the fact that she’d found her very own Prince Charming.
“Are you feeling okay?” There was a note of concern in Demetrius’s voice.
“Sure. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He studied her intently. “You know that you can talk to me about whatever is on your mind?”
Why did things have to be so complicated between them? She longed for a normal life. One where her mother was healthy and could live on her own. One where her mother didn’t get confused and frustrated with aspects of life that so many people took for granted.
“Why does life have to be so unfair?” Zoe muttered under her breath.
“Sometimes I wonder the same thing. Being a prince doesn’t give me a pass on painful and unhappy moments.” Demetrius reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I am here if you need me.”
At first, she resisted the pull of his arm, but needing to feel his strength and the comfort of someone being on her side, she gave in. Her head came to rest against his shoulder. The scent of his spicy cologne taunted her, reminding her of all the things in life she’d had to give up in order to do right by the people she loved. And now, she had to be content with this platonic touch.
All too soon the car rolled to a stop behind Zoe’s apartment building. She reached for the door handle. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Not so fast.” Demetrius followed her out the door. A bodyguard leaned over and whispered something in Demetrius’s ear. “We’re clear to go up.”
“How do you know?”
He sent her a knowing smile as though he was always two steps ahead of her. “Some of my men were sent ahead to secure the area.”
“It must be tough always having to be so careful where you go and having to be surrounded by your own private army.” She truly meant it. She might not be rich, but she did have her privacy and the freedom to come and go as she pleased.
He shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m sorry that it bothers you.”
“I...no, it doesn’t. It’s just so different from my life.”
He truly didn’t seem fazed by it. Even when he’d been living life to its fullest as the playboy prince when they’d first met, he’d still been surrounded by bodyguards. Demetrius insisted that the men dress to fit in with the crowd. These days, those same bodyguards wore dark suits and dark glasses. There was no missing the fact that they were part of his security detail, and the expression on their faces said that they meant business.
When Zoe stepped into the darkened hallway of the older building, she paused and turned to him. “You really don’t have to come with me. I’m sure you have phone calls and other things to do.”
His brows rose and for a moment he didn’t say anything. “I promise you that you have my undivided attention.”
Any other time, she would have loved to be the center of his attention, but not right now. Knowing no other way to deter him from following her to the humble little apartment she shared with her mother, she mounted the steps to the second floor.
All the while, she kept telling herself that it didn’t matter. Once this project was done...once the annulment papers were recovered...she’d never see Demetrius again, aside from the photos in the newspaper and the television appearances. Still, she’d have her memories for as long as they lasted. She could only hope they weren’t snatched away like her mother’s—only to be replaced with confusion and uncertainty.
* * *
Her discomfort was palpable.
Demetrius followed Zoe up the stairs. Her shoulders were rigid. She didn’t say a word. He wished she would relax. She didn’t have to be self-conscious about the apartment building. Sure it was older and there was nothing fancy about it, but there was an air of hominess—a warmth that at times was lacking from the glamor of the palace now that his mother was no longer around.
Zoe paused outside a brown wooden door. Gold numerals read 213. She turned to him, her gaze not quite reaching his. “My place...it’s nothing fancy.”
“It’s