Up for Heir - Stella Starling Page 0,13

into the ridiculous mountain of pillows that the staff insisted on arranging on his bed every morning. She would either leave them in tatters or get lost in their depths and fail to ever find her way out. A win either way. “Hugo, I need a car.”

“Which one, Your Highness?”

It didn’t matter. Leo waved a hand in the air dismissively, patting down his pockets to make sure he had… oh, right. He didn’t.

“Where is my phone?”

Hugo stared in silence for a full six seconds, then let out an imperceptible sigh and tipped his head ever so slightly toward the ensuite bathroom. “I believe you’ll find it with your shaving paraphernalia, Your Highness. Shall I summon Nils to accompany you?”

“No,” Leo said, striding into the bathroom and grabbing his phone. He didn’t need a bodyguard with him to visit his—well, to visit Eddie.

The Blom family.

Loyal Rosavian citizens.

To go on a simple excursion of goodwill and positive public relations.

Leo scooped up his phone and ran a hand through his hair, straightening a cowlick as he glanced in the mirror and called out, “But do get me Eddie’s—Mr. Blom’s—address, will you, Hugo?”

The valet looked slightly nonplussed as Leo strode out of the ensuite, ready to take back control of the day.

“And… how would I obtain that information, Your Highness?” Hugo finally asked. “This afternoon’s tour wasn’t even on your calendar.”

Leo grinned. Hugo hated being out of the loop. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said confidently, clapping Hugo on the shoulder, completely reinvigorated now that he had a plan. He winked. “Your service, after all, is always impeccable.”

Leo knocked briskly on the door of the humble apartment the GPS system had directed him to, realizing only as he did so that his “plan” had not actually extended to having an explanation for showing up unannounced. Yes, he was the crown prince, but while there were many situations in which that fact eased his way, he was suddenly hit with the suspicion that this one—especially given that Leo himself wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been so driven to track Eddie down like this in the first place—probably wasn’t going to be one of them.

The door opened before he could figure out what to do about that, an incredibly frazzled and slightly odorous Eddie on the other side. An Eddie with… glasses.

Crooked ones.

Leo grinned, all thoughts of not being fully prepared for the encounter gone in an instant, because Eddie in glasses? Wide hazel eyes behind smudged lenses framed by what, even in the middle of the afternoon, was quite unmistakably a case of dirty-blond bedhead?

It was a look Leo found he quite liked. In fact, not that it was a word he normally applied to other men—or anyone, for that matter—but it was actually slightly…

“Adorable,” Leo said before he had a chance to decide if he should censor the thought. He reached out to straighten the glasses. “Hello, Eddie. Busy?”

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed a few times without any sound coming out, his eyes getting even bigger as his throat worked for a moment. Then he went completely still, closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, and opened them to try again.

“Y-Y-Your Highness,” he finally said, his face flooding with color. “You’re… h-h-here.”

“It’s Leo,” Leo corrected him, leaning against the doorjamb and grinning down at all that intriguing fluster as he reminded himself not to accost the man. Not that accosting was typically Leo’s style—neither were other men, for that matter—but he still shoved his hands into his pockets as a precautionary measure, given that he had the inexplicable urge to do more straightening. To tug the rucked-up hem of Eddie’s shirt down, smooth his untamed hair, brush the flecks of—

Oh.

Leo suddenly straightened, raking Eddie with a more assessing look. “Is that… vomit?”

Maybe Eddie’s fluster had nothing to do with Leo after all. The thought was oddly disappointing, but—selfishly, to be sure—it was also gratifying to think that he hadn’t just blown off the rose garden tour for no good reason.

“Y-Y-Yes,” Eddie mumbled, his blush flaring so bright that, for a moment, Leo was concerned he might actually combust. He looked down at his soiled t-shirt, then back up at Leo, his spine straightening despite his obvious embarrassment. “I-I-I-It… it is. The girls ate something that was o-o-off last night, a-a-a-and now they’re not… not feeling well. S-S-Sorry.”

Leo had no idea who “the girls” were, or the first thing about caring for sick people—he did have some experience with vomit,