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Cara Colter – Cinderella's Prince Under The Mistletoe (страница 8)

18

“No,” she managed to gasp out, “not tickling. It’s just this situation strikes me as being preposterous. I have a prince at my feet? Somehow when I got up this morning, I could not have predicted this event in my day.”

“Yesterday morning,” he corrected her, absently. “It’s already a brand-new day.”

She contemplated that. It was, indeed, a new day, ripe with potential, full of surprises. When was the last time she had allowed herself to be delighted by the unexpected? A long, long time ago. Since her breakup with Kevin, she realized now, she had tried desperately to keep tight control on everything in her world.

“It’s true,” he continued, and she detected an unexpected edge of harshness to his voice, “that sometimes we cannot predict the surprises our days will hold.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

Tentatively, she said, “You said that as if you’ve had an unpleasant surprise recently.” She realized she was being much too forward and was glad for the darkness in the room that hid her sudden blush of insecurity. “Your Highness.”

He looked at her. “Shall we just be Luca and Imogen for a little while?”

His invitation to familiarity was quite a bit more stunning than hers had been. It was as stunning as finding a prince at her feet, giving tender loving care to her very minor wounds.

Maybe she was dreaming! If she was dreaming, would she give in to the temptation to reach out and touch the dark silk of his hair? Her fingertips tingled with wanting.

She tucked her hands under her thighs.

“Luca,” she said experimentally, and then, “Ouch!”

“It’s a bit of disinfectant. It’ll just sting for a second.”

Had he done that on purpose? To distract her from the question she had asked about his recent unpleasant surprise?

He finished with her foot, cleaning and bandaging it with exquisite sensitivity. Imogen had to steel herself over and over again from gasping, not with pain, but delight.

“That’s great,” she said, the second he was finished. She started to get up. “Thank you.”

His hand on her shoulder stayed her. “Don’t get up yet. I have shoes on. Let me find all the broken glass and clean it up.”

“No, I’ll just—”

“Do as you’re told?” he suggested drily.

Despite herself, she giggled again.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I can clearly see you are used to telling people what to do, but I was just wondering if you’ve ever cleaned up anything before in your whole life? It doesn’t seem very...er...princely somehow.”

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