And that had him glaring at the coffered ceiling far above his bed. Not V. Please. It was much too early to have to deal with V.
Besides, it was over between them. She knew that as well as he did.
Not to mention she was supposed to be in Italy, wasn’t she? And there were guards at every entrance. She couldn’t just stroll in uninvited. How could she have gained access to his rooms, anyway?
Who knew? A man never did when it came to V.
And if it was V, he could forget drifting back to sleep. She would keep right on knocking until he gave in and answered. The woman was nothing short of relentless.
Muttering a few choice expletives under his breath, Dami shoved back the covers and grabbed his robe. He shrugged it on and belted it as he strode down the hall.
By the time he reached the door that led out into the palace corridor, he was angrier than he should have allowed himself to be. He yanked the door wide with a scowl on his face, prepared to tell the impossible woman on the other side exactly what he thought of her.
But it wasn’t Vesuvia after all. It was sweet little Lucy Cordell, whose brother, Noah, would be marrying Damien’s sister Alice in the spring.
At the sight of his less-than-welcoming expression, Lucy’s pink cheeks flushed red and she jumped back with a soft cry. “Oh! It’s too early, isn’t it? You weren’t even up....” She gave him a dazed once-over, from his bare feet to the section of naked chest displayed where the robe gaped a bit, and upward. She took in the dark stubble on his jaw and his uncombed hair.
Dami instantly felt nothing short of sheepish. He straightened the robe and raked a hand back through his hair. “Luce. Hullo.”
“Go ahead, say it. Too early, I knew it.”
“No. Really. It’s fine. Not too early at all.” If he’d known it was Lucy, he’d have put something on under the robe. Dami was very fond of Lucy. She was so fresh scrubbed and sincere—charming, too. And she did look fetching this morning, all big brown eyes and short tousled hair, and a smart and imaginative ensemble she had no doubt created herself. He could almost forgive her for dragging him from his bed.
She was not soothed by his assurances, but instead winced and scrunched up her pretty face. “Yikes! I get it. You’ve got company, right?” And then she was off and chattering. “Oh, Dami. I’m sorry, truly. I don’t want to interrupt anything, but I’ve been working up the nerve to approach you concerning a certain, er, issue, for weeks now.”
“Working up the nerve?” He gazed at her, bemused. “What issue?”
“Ugh. I hate myself.”
He gestured her into the suite. “Come in. We’ll talk.”
“But you’re busy....”
“No, I’m not. And I promise you, I am completely alone.”
“Really?”
“Truly. Now come in.”
But she only sighed and covered her eyes with her hands and then spread her fingers enough to peek out at him. “This is so awkward and weird, isn’t it? But I just, well, this morning, I finally couldn’t stand it anymore.”
He stepped to the side and waved her in again. “Whatever it is, let’s not discuss it out here in the hallway. You must come in. We’ll have coffee.”
She didn’t budge, except to drop her hands away from her face and wrap her arms around her. “I just had to see you. And so I decided to go for it, before I lost my nerve, you know? But of course, I see I should’ve at least waited until nine or...later or whenever you... Oh, my Lord.” She let her head fall back and groaned at the carved painted ceiling overhead. “You would think I had no manners at all.” She looked at him again, her gamine face crumpled in misery. “Oh, Dami. Sorry, sorry. This is awful, isn’t it?”
“Luce, what are you on about?”
She blinked at him again, her mouth trembling. “You know what? I’ll just come back later and maybe then we can...”
The flood of words stopped when he caught her hand. She stared up at him, her mouth slightly agape in a confused expression that he found simultaneously humorous and captivating. “Come inside now.” He gave her fingers a tug.
“Oh, I just don’t...”
“Luce.” He snared her darting gaze and held it.
“Oh, God.” Her plump cheeks puffed out with a hard breath. “What?”
“Come in. Please.”
That did it. Finally. She gave him a sad little nod. And then, slim shoulders drooping, she let him draw her over the threshold.
Pausing only to shut and lock the door, he led her down the hallway, past the sitting room and his bedroom, the dining room and his small study. At the back of the apartment, he had a narrow galley kitchen for those times when he preferred to dine in private. He led Lucy to the small table by the one window at the end and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”
She dropped to the chair cushion, folded her hands neatly in her lap and didn’t utter a word as he got to work grinding the coffee beans, filling the French press and setting it on the cooker to brew. He would have preferred, while they waited for the coffee, to run back down the hall and throw on something more appropriate than his black silk robe.
But he was afraid if he left her alone, she just might bolt. He couldn’t allow that. Clearly, she did have something to say to him. It was all very intriguing. He wasn’t letting her go until she revealed what had brought her to his door.
He said, “I’m surprised to see you at the palace at this hour.”
“But I’m a guest here. I have a beautiful little room on the third floor with a bathroom right down the hall.”
“I thought you would be staying at the villa with Alice and Noah.”
“Well, the truth is I asked Alice if she could get me in as a guest here at the palace instead—for the life experience, you know?” Something evasive in her expression tipped him off that “life experience” wasn’t all of it.
“And because of Noah?”
She shrugged. “He’s promised to stop hovering over me and to let me lead my own life, but he still thinks he knows what’s best for me. Here at the palace, I’m on my own. I take care of myself without my big brother keeping tabs on where I go and when I come in at night.” She loosed a gusty sigh. “Honestly, Dami. Sometimes he acts like I’m twelve instead of twenty-three.”
“He loves you and wants to be certain you’re safe and well.”
For that she shot him an I-don’t-want-to-hear-it look. He let the subject drop.
The coffee didn’t take long. He poured her a cup, got out the cream and sugar and even found a couple of pastries in the bread box. He put the pastries on a serving plate, set them each a place, along with napkin, fork and spoon, and then took his own cup and settled into the chair opposite her. “There. Drink your coffee.”
Obediently, she spooned in a little sugar, poured in a drizzle of cream, stirred and sipped. “It’s good.”
“Life is too short for bad coffee.”
A sudden smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
He shook his head. “Something amuses you?”
“It’s too weird, that’s all. Being served coffee and sweet rolls by a prince....”
He waved a hand. “Under everyday circumstances, my man, Edgar, would prepare the coffee. But Edgar is elsewhere this morning.”
She blushed again, the color flowing upward over her sweet, velvety cheeks. “Thank you, Dami. You’re always so kind to me.” All at once