Finding My Prince Charming (14 page)

“Oh, shut up, Xavier.” I sighed. “If I hang out with Sebastian, that’s between us. I’m fed up of hearing you try and warn me off every other day. It’s annoying.”

“I’m just trying to help ...” he began, and I could see from his expression that he was disgruntled.

“Don’t try to help me outside of class, Professor. It’s not wanted or needed. And it’s definitely not appreciated.”

“You’re not so timid anymore.” His lips twitched as he stared at my heated face.

“I was never timid.” I glared at him.

“That’s true.” He paused and licked his lips slowly. “You do like to give as good as you get, don’t you?”

“It’s not hard when it’s not very good.” I smiled at him sweetly and his eyes narrowed.

“Are you trying to rile me up, Lola? Do you want me to prove to you how good I am?”

“I don’t have all year.” I replied tartly and he laughed.

“Come, let’s go to the museum.” He grabbed my hand. “I want to see your face when you look at the art.”

“Why?”

“It will remind me of the look you make when you come.” He whispered in my ear. “The look of exquisite pleasure and raw emotion.”

I gasped at his words and pulled away from him. There was something so desperately inappropriate about Xavier, and while a part of me hated that about him, the other part of me absolutely loved it.

***

“W
elcome to the National Gallery.” Xavier extended his arms as he pointed at the grand white building in front of us.

“It’s huge.” I looked up at the white building in awe and then ran up the steps and stood on the balcony overlooking the city.

“That’s Trafalgar Square.” Xavier ran up behind me and pointed to the enormous black lions in the center surrounding a tall statue of a man.

“It’s amazing. I’ve seen the photos before, but never imagined I’d see them in person.”

“Do you know who Trafalgar was?”

“Not really. I know he had something to do with Napoleon right?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte?” He looked at me with a straight face.

“I think so.” I bit my lower lip. “But Napoleon is French and we’re in London, so I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Tell me.”

“Well, my question was slightly tricky.” He laughed and grabbed my hand. “See the statue of the man? His name is Nelson. Lord Nelson. And the column was built for him for his success against the French during the Napoleonic wars at the battle of Trafalgar.”

“I knew it had something to do with Napoleon.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.

“Indeed you did.” He leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. “Let’s go inside now so I can impress you with my knowledge of art.”

“You don’t need to impress me,” I said quietly, and he stopped and stared at me for a moment before smiling widely.

“And that’s why I want to impress you more than anything.” We stood there for a few minutes, my heart beating rapidly at his soft gaze. Part of me wondered if he was going to be sweet to me from now on. Maybe he’d stop with the barbs. Maybe he’d show me a sweeter and softer side. I knew that if he called me a whore or insinuated that I was a prostitute again, that I’d be likely to slap him so hard his cheek would be stinging for days.

“We shall go directly to the Impressionist room.” He grinned at me as we entered the museum. “We go up the steps and make our first right.” He strode ahead of me and then stopped. “We can go in the gift shop afterwards if you want.” He pointed to a store a little further up on the left.

“That would be nice.”

“I’m excited to hear your thoughts about each painting.” His eyes lit up and I realized just how into art he was. Part of me was impressed and the other part was scared. I didn’t want to sound like an idiot on front of him. I didn’t know how to speak very intellectually about art.

“Hopefully, I don’t sound like an idiot.” I grinned and he laughed.

“I don’t think you could ever sound like an idiot, Lola.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow at him and laughed. “You don’t think that at all?”

“Not at all. I think you’d be surprised to know what I think of you.”

“What do you think of me?” I stood there waiting on pins and needles for his response.

“You already know I’m attracted to you. You know that I want to teach you.” His fingers wrapped around my ear as he brushed some strands of hair away from my face.

“What do you want to teach me?” I watched as he moved his mouth closer to mine and closed my eyes.

“Excuse me, please,” a lady shouted at us. “That’s not a very smart place to stop.” She pushed past us with a big bag and five bored-looking kids.

“Sorry,” I made a face at her as she walked by. I was pissed that she had ruined the moment for me, but I knew the middle of the museum wasn’t the place to be getting down and dirty.

“Shall we go and join the philistines?” Xavier moved away from me and started walking towards the entryway.

“Let’s do it.” I nodded and he grinned.

“I was hoping you would say that.” He grinned mischievously and I ignored him. Xavier confused me with his hot and cold emotions.

“I want to show you one if my favorite Renoir paintings first.” He walked through the gallery as if he owned it, and I followed behind him quickly. He stopped in front of a painting and I read the name card. The painting was called
At the Theatre
and showed a young girl and her companion sitting down facing the stage. However, all the other people in the theater were staring at her.

“What do you think of it?” Xavier asked me after a few minutes.

“It’s a wonderful painting. It’s so ornate and rich.” I spoke timidly, not knowing what he wanted me to say.

“What does it make you think?”

“I don’t know.” I mumbled and stared at the painting again. It was weird to me that everyone was staring at the girl. “I guess it makes me wonder who she is.” I spoke again. “Why is everyone staring at her? Why is she the focal point of the painting? Why is she so important?”

“
Exactement
.” Xavier grinned. “And past that, I want to know how she feels about being the center of attention. I want to know if she can handle it. From all appearances, she seems as if she were made for the role, but then we don’t know what’s on the inside, do we?”

“She looks uncomfortable.” I stared at her face and then her blue outfit. “But that could be her outfit. It looks so stuffy.”

“That was the appropriate outfit.” He looked me in the eyes. “When I am in Romerius, I have to wear my royal garb. It is heavy and itchy, but it is tradition.”

“I suppose you do what you have to do.”

“My wife, if I ever take one, will be faced with a lot of scrutiny. She will also have to wear the traditional garb and she will be subjected to a lot of talk.”

“Poor lady.”

“Most women would love to become princess of Romerius.”

“Good for you and good for them.” I looked away from him. Was he deliberately trying to irritate me and make me jealous?

“I don’t see myself getting married anytime soon.” He gave me a sharp look.

“I didn’t propose, so no skin off my back.” I snapped at him, and he laughed. His green eyes seemed to jump with humor and joy and his classically handsome face looked boyish and young. For a moment he looked like Sebastian.

“You remind me of Sebastian when you laugh.” I smiled at him, and he frowned.

“You love to bring up my brother.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Just make sure of that.” His lips curled up and I felt my stomach sink.

“I’m sorry you don’t think I’m good enough for your brother.”

“You’re only good enough for me.” His eyes flashed at me and my eyes widened. Was he jealous? “Let us look at the Monets now.”

“I love Monet.” I nodded, happy to change the subject.

“Claude Monet was an artist’s artist.” He grabbed my hand and we walked to the other side of the room. I gasped as I saw the selection of paintings, each one more beautiful than the next. I rushed over and stood in front of the painting that attracted me the most. It depicted a bridge over a water lily pond. I laughed when I saw the name of the painting was
The Water Lily Pond
. Such an accurate name.

“You like this one?”

“Yes, it’s so calm and colorful and full of nature. It makes me want to close eyes and find myself in that setting.”

“It is beautiful.” He nodded. “Monet has many paintings of lilies. He seemed to find something in them that was beautiful. Something that made him want to tell their story over and over again.”

“He was so talented.”

“This was painted in his own water garden in 1899. The bridge is Japanese.”

“It’s awesome.” I stared at the painting, but all I could think about was how close he was to me. My fingers were still tingling from where he had grabbed them. Part of me longed to grab his hand and stand there as if we were a couple. I stared at his profile for a couple of seconds and swallowed hard. He had such a perfect Roman nose. And his hair was so soft and silky. I wanted to reach over and run my fingers through his hair and down his face. I wanted to touch him. I shivered as I remembered the first time we’d met and the night we’d spent together. It had seemed surreal. Magical almost. This whole situation was like a movie. I was standing here with a handsome prince. I froze for a moment as I remembered he was also my professor and my boss. And he was also older than me. Not that I cared.

“So what do you think, Lola?” Xavier’s voice interrupted my thoughts and I nodded eagerly.

“Yes, I agree.” I smiled at him hoping that my answer made sense.

“You agree, do you?” He licked his lips and moved in closer to me.

“Uh yes.” My smile fell a little.

“So you’re willing to go into the restroom with me and bend over?”

“Wait, what?” My eyes nearly popped out as my voice rose. I saw the woman from earlier giving me a dirty look as she tried to get her rowdy kids to pay attention to her little speech.

“I said, are you ready to ...” Xavier whispered in my ear and I pulled away from him quickly.

“Pervert,” I hissed at him and walked to the other side of the room, my face flushed and red. I could hear Xavier laughing behind me and I closed my eyes for a brief second. I knew that I was going to have to keep my distance from him. Even though I didn’t want to, I was starting to fall for Xavier. He had a way of making me feel special. But I knew I couldn’t allow myself to fall under his spell. He might be a prince, but he was definitely no Prince Charming.

***

His View

I
froze as I looked out of the window. There was my ex-fiancée standing looking in the window with a sly look on her face. Shit, what was she doing here? I frowned to myself as I saw Viola. Viola de Haviland was the woman my parents had intended me to marry. The woman whose heart I had broken. The woman who had made me distrust all relationships.

As soon as she saw me, she walked away, but I knew that she knew that I’d seen her. I stared at Lola and frowned slightly. All of a sudden, a plan came into my mind and I laughed. My plan was perfect. I’d be able to have my fill of Lola and I’d be able to finally get Viola out of my life forever. I just hoped that everything went according to plan or I was going to find myself in more trouble than I was now. Lola wasn’t the perfect woman to carry out my plan, but she was the one I wanted. Now all I needed to do was put the plan into action.

“W
e’re going to go to Giverny.” He stopped by my desk and handed me a credit card. “Make the bookings.”

“What bookings?” I took the card in confusion. “Where’s Giverny?”

“France, of course.”

“Why are we going to France?”

“To see Monet’s gardens and make preparations for the class trip.”

“What class trip?” I repeated, feeling very much like a dummy.

“The one we’re going to plan.”

“But I’ve never heard of a class trip before...”

“Lola, are we going to go back and forth all day?” He frowned. “Please just make the booking.”

“Fine.” I frowned annoyed. “So nice of you to ask politely.”

“I was very polite.”

“What exactly so you want me to book?” I sighed and stared at the black American Express card in my hand. Of course he’d have a black American Express card!

“The trains, the hotels, whatever.” He walked to the door.

“When are we going? And who else is going? Is Sebastian going?” I asked hopefully.

“We’re going this weekend and no, Sebastian is not going.” He paused and looked back at me. “It will just be us.”

“Oh, yay.” I said flatly, though I was actually pretty excited inside.

“I have to go out right now.” He looked at his Rolex and then back at me. “Call me if you have any questions.”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, annoyed at myself for being disappointed that he was leaving the office.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He laughed and walked back into the room and toward me desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do since this morning.” He grinned and then leaned down to kiss me. His lips were warm and firm against mine and I parted my lips waiting to feel his tongue inside my mouth. His eyes laughed into my disappointed ones as he pulled away from me. “Have a good day, my dear.”

“You too,” I mumbled, too stunned to feel annoyed or snap at him. I watched him walk out of the door and listened to his footsteps as he made his way to the front of the house. I released my breath when I heard the front door close behind him and rested my head on the table and groaned.

“Argh.” I moaned as I lay there feeling sorry for myself. I was so confused and I didn’t know what to think. “This is why you don’t sleep with men the same weekend you meet them,” I muttered to myself as I remembered the feel of his lips against mine. If I sniffed gently, I could also smell his cologne. And if I concentrated really hard, I could still feel the warmth of his palms on my skin as he made love to me. I groaned again as I remembered the feel of him. Why wasn’t he as affected as me? I felt like a bumbling idiot around him, yet he continued to act cool, calm and collected. I suppose it helped that he was a handsome, rich prince and he had the world at his disposal. He could get any girl he wanted with his title alone. Add to that his athletic body, handsome face and sparkling green eyes ... He wasn’t known as one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe for nothing.