#Chapter 460 – Dinner with the Prince
Ella
Conner opens my car door and gives an odd little bow as I get out of it.
“What on earth was that?” I ask, grinning at him.
Conner, to his credit, blushes a little as he gives me a shrug. “I don’t know, you’re a Queen now. Aren’t I supposed to bow?”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “I have no idea,” I say, laughing, pleased when he laughs with me and closes the car door behind me. “But since neither of us know, maybe we should cut it out?”
“All right,” he says with a grin, looking up towards the restaurant where Calvin asked me to meet him. I’m a little thrilled, honestly, to be out of the palace for the first time in weeks and also pleased that this was kept quiet enough that there is no press here to capture the moment.
“I’m glad you’re here, Conner,” I say quietly, taking a deep breath to steel myself.
“Anytime, Luna,” he murmurs, and he keeps close by my side as I walk up the stairs.
I’m relieved to see, when I get inside, that the restaurant is dark and only about half full, all of the patrons gathered in deep booths so that I can only see the tops of their heads. I smile to myself, thinking that the Prince chose his venue well.
“This way, Highness,” a young woman says, smiling at me and leading me not into the dining room but towards a small elevator. The three of us are a bit packed in, but the ride is short – just to the second floor. When the door slides open, the young woman smiles and gestures forward into a very small, very pretty private dining room. There’s even a little balcony terrace outside that looks absolutely gorgeous in the moonlight.
Calvin is sitting alone at a table, looking at his phone with a half-full glass of wine in front of him. When I step into the room he looks up and he smiles.
And damn it, but I have to admit…he’s really good looking. Not as good looking as Sinclair – I mean, at least not to me but the way that smile lights his face, and those cheekbones, and those violet eyes?
Damn.
But I don’t have much time to think on it as he stands up and holds out a hand to me, inviting me to the table.
I smile myself, not needing to force it as I cross the room to take his hand. That buzz of electricity passes between us as he leans forward, murmuring a greeting and intending to brush the barest kiss against my cheek – nothing inappropriate, nothing that wouldn’t pass between an ambassador and a Queen
But he flinches back at the last moment, and I smirk a little, considering that he probably got a whiff of precisely how much Sinclair has marked me as his tonight.
Calvin hesitates as if tempted, but then he pulls away.
Still, something flutters in me at the nearness of this man.
What the hell is going on?
“I’m so glad you came,” Calvin says, gesturing towards my seat. Then, to my surprise, he looks beyond me at Conner, who is standing a few paces behind. “Will you be joining us?”
I turn to look at Conner, my eyebrows raised
“No,” Conner says, nodding and smiling a little in recognition of the graciousness of the invitation. “I’m fine over here,” he gestures towards a little couch in the corner of the room, where he’ll be close enough to protect me but far enough to give us our privacy.
Calvin nods to him and Conner moves away. I smile a little as I sit.
“Honestly,” Calvin says, his voice hesitating a little, “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I say, though… well, I’m not really sorry, am I? My mate needed a little reassurance and I’m happy to give it to him, even if it’s at Calvin’s expense.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, peering at me, truly trying to assess what he can do to make me comfortable. “I know that nine in the evening is late for a dinner in your culture -”
I smile at him, pleased at his solicitousness – because I honestly get the impression that he cares. He wanted to have this dinner so that we can talk, but if I’m hungry? He wants me to eat.
“Actually, I am a little hungry,” I say, leaning forward with a laugh. “And thirsty, if there’s more wine.”
“Always more wine,” he murmurs, raising a hand and signaling to a waiter I didn’t see. The waiter comes forward and fills a waiting glass for me.
“I haven’t had much to drink lately,” I say quietly, raising the glass to my lips and savoring the taste of the rich red. ” But one can’t hurt, can it?”
“Can’t hurt what?” Calvin asks, leaning forward in his curiosity. He frowns at me, genuinely not getting it.
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