An old man with white hair that stood out against his tanned and weathered skin made his way towards them and bowed his head. “Prince Quincy! I am glad to see you here, Your Highness. What can I help you with today? Does your lady friend need paint, or perhaps your father has commissioned another great work?”
Quincy rattled his brain for the man’s name but couldn’t remember it, though he’d seen him bring supplies to the palace painter numerous times. “I’m sorry, my good man, I have misplaced your name today.”
The old man grinned until his eyes crinkled. “Sebastian, Your Highness.”
“Sebastian, of course. My father always speaks highly of your paint quality. Now then, I would like you to meet the soon-to-be Princess Olivia. She is a painter and is in need of some new supplies.”
Sebastian grinned, but Olivia tugged on his sleeve. “Don’t get his hopes up,” she whispered as they turned away from the man. “I can’t afford his paints.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you? You are officially rich now,” Quincy told her and turned back to Sebastian. “I’m afraid I do not know what she needs, but she would be more than delighted to tell you.” He motioned at the shelves, and Olivia stared in shock.
Sebastian pulled out a pad of paper and pen to write down her order. It took a minute, but Olivia pointed out the colors she’d liked. The next hour was spent walking around the shop as she talked about colors and quality, dry times, and textures. Quincy stood by the door and watched with a smile on his face. By the time Olivia was finished and Sebastian rang up the total, he thought the new princess would keel over from a heart attack. Quincy stepped forward and pulled his card out from his wallet.
“Don’t worry,” he told Olivia. “That’s nothing compared to what I’ve spent on nights out.”
Sebastian laughed. “Yes, and the whole isle knows about those nights out, Your Highness.”
Quincy shrugged as he tucked his card away. Sebastian told them their purchase would arrive at the palace by that evening, and the two royals headed for the front door where their bodyguards and servants stood under the awning.
“Where did those clouds come from?” Olivia said. She stared up at the quickly darkening sky and down at her white blouse. “Crap.”
“We’ll make it before the rain hits,” he said. “Though rain might not be such a bad thing in your case.”
She shot him a look as he held open the door for her, and they hurried back down the street as the first bolt of lightning shot across the sky and booming thunder chased it.
Chapter 5
Contrary to Quincy’s words, they did not reach the palace before the rain fell, and man, did it fall. Torrential waves soaked them head to toe in seconds. Olivia wanted to wring his neck by the time they made it inside, dripping on the floors as she stomped to her rooms. Her blouse was a bit see-through, and the bra underneath hadn’t helped a damn.
“We will get you out of those wet clothes very quickly, miss,” Allete said beside her.
“You’re soaked, too. Please, go get yourself changed. I can handle myself.”
“No, I must see to you first,” Allete insisted.
Olivia stopped and shook her head. “As princess, I am telling you to go change before you catch a cold. I will be fine, I promise.” She could tell Allete wanted to argue more, but the woman finally sighed and curtsied before heading back down the hall towards her own rooms in the servant’s wing.
“You know she means well,” Quincy said as he caught up to her.
“Stop following me,” she said and quickly put her arms back across her chest.
Quincy grinned at the movement and that damn left dimple appeared, making Olivia’s eyes dart to it. He pointed to the left, and she followed his hand. “We’re standing outside my rooms, Princess.”
She turned around to stalk to her own rooms to change. The minute the rain had wet her shirt, she’d felt his eyes on her chest and saw the glimmer of longing in his eyes. Did he want to kiss her? Pull her close and hold her under an awning as the storm raged around them? Or maybe that was just her thoughts of him.
“Stupid. You are being absolutely stupid,” she muttered as she pushed open her doors, closed and locked them. The last thing she wanted was for him to barge in while she was changing.
First, she headed to the bathroom to grab a towel; she stripped her clothes off, dried her body, and attempted to deal with her mess of hair. The rain had made it go flat, and it was nothing more than a tangled mess. She glanced around for her hairbrush, but it wasn’t in the bathroom. Cursing, she saw it on her nightstand. Not even thinking, she rushed across the wood floor to grab it, but it was slick and she slipped and fell hard on her elbow.