Majesty (American Royals, #2)(13)

She felt Ethan’s gaze on her and glanced back up. An idea began to take hold in Daphne’s mind, stubborn and burrlike: an idea so simple that it was either brilliant, or deeply foolish.

“Ethan,” she asked sweetly, “can we talk?”

“Am I mistaken, or isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

“I meant alone.”

Ethan stared at her for a moment, then held out an arm in a careless display of chivalry. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” She had no choice but to place her hand over his sleeve. And there it was again, the way her whole body sparked to alertness at his touch.

Daphne realized that even though she’d slept with Ethan—twice—they had never actually held hands. Her fingers itched to lace themselves in his, just to see what it felt like.

She let go of Ethan’s arm as if it were burning.

“This way.” Daphne started toward the archway that led out into the rest of the museum. Ethan gave a resigned sigh but followed.

Long ago the G&A had been a train station, until the new, longer trains that ran on electricity had rendered its platforms obsolete. It was King Edward II who’d decommissioned the entire thing, turning it into an art museum instead, and naming it after his grandparents. Out here in the main causeway, you could still see traces of the old rail station: the grand curves of the mezzanine where travelers once sat gossiping over their morning espressos, the brick entrances to the train platforms, which now led guests to impressionist paintings. The ceiling soared overhead, its iron supports swooping up in a series of elegant arches.

Daphne didn’t break stride until they were halfway down the hallway. Finally she paused at a statue of a man on horseback—a Roman emperor, probably, or one of the Washington kings. Whoever he was, his horse had reared up onto its hind legs, as if the man meant to trample anyone who stood in his way.

Daphne knew the feeling.

She glanced in all directions, making sure they were alone, before she ventured a smile in Ethan’s direction. “Sorry to drag you away from the party, but I was hoping to ask a favor.”

His brows shot upward. “Really? You’re coming to me, after—”

“I don’t like it either,” she interrupted, before he could say it out loud. “I just…I don’t have anyone else.”

Ethan crossed his arms warily. “What do you want, Daphne?”

“I need you to keep Nina Gonzalez as far from Jefferson as possible.”

She saw him tense at her words and hurried to elaborate. “It shouldn’t be difficult; you both live on the same campus. Can’t you help me get her out of the picture?”

Ethan paled. “You can’t seriously mean—after Himari—”

“I’m not saying you should hurt her!” Daphne hissed. She hated what she’d done to Himari Mariko: her best friend, who’d been in a coma since last June. “I just want you to spend a little more time with her,” Daphne explained. “Keep tabs on what she’s up to.”

Ethan’s voice was flat. “I see. You’re asking me to sideline Nina while you try to get Jeff back.”

Daphne nodded. “She’s Samantha’s best friend; she’s going to keep showing up at royal events. I need you to distract her.”

She’d forgotten what a relief it was, talking with Ethan. There was no one else with whom she could speak such blunt, unadorned truths. Being with him felt like taking off her shoes after a long and painful night of standing.

“I’m curious,” Ethan said sarcastically. “When you came up with this plan, how exactly did you think I was going to distract Nina?”

Daphne bristled at his tone. “Invite her to some parties, join her study group, flirt with her for all I care. The important thing is that she stays far from the palace, okay?”

Ethan’s eyes flashed. “Shocking, I know, but I doubt Nina would be interested in me.”

“Then make her interested! Come on, it should be easy. Don’t you remember what Nina was like on vacation? All she ever did was read. I’m sure she’d respond to some big romantic gesture.” Daphne paused, trying to remember everything she knew about Samantha’s best friend. “She’s always dreamed of visiting Venice. She collects M&M’s from foreign countries. She works in a library, for god’s sake.”

Daphne took a step closer, close enough that she could have kissed Ethan in half a heartbeat. He stiffened as she rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

“Unless, of course, you think it’s too much of a challenge.”

He drew back, shaking his head. “Sorry, you can’t bait me into this one.”

Heat flooded her face, but before she could argue, he’d caught her hands in his.

“Forget Nina. Forget Jeff,” he said roughly. “Daphne—you and I have been running these circles around each other for years. Aren’t you ready to quit pretending?”

“I’m not pretending anything.” The words came out in a whisper.

“Let’s do this, you and me. For real this time.” And with that, he leaned down to kiss her.

Daphne had known, when she’d dragged Ethan out into the hallway, that something might happen between them. But she hadn’t bargained on this—this eager, treacherous rush of feeling that made her press her body forward, her arms darting up to circle his neck. She felt like she’d been on a torturous low simmer for months, and now she was finally alive again.