The Dragon Prince's Crush - Lorelei M Hart Page 0,11

when I was little. “If you’re happy and you know it, wash your hands.” And to make things worse, I stamped my foot and mimed washing my hands.

What had happened to princely, poised Aiden, always ready with a polite smile and never at a loss for something to say? Perhaps he’d crawled out the bathroom window and left a shadow of his personality behind.

In what seemed like an eternity, while waiting for the baker to respond, I studied his eyes which were the color of the ocean on a stormy day, the dusting of flour on his cheeks, his tousled hair, and noticed that he was at least five inches taller than me.

“If you’re happy and you know it, wash your hands.” He repeated the line back to me.

I gave the only appropriate response. “You forgot to do the hands thing,” I told him as his face broke into a wide grin.

“Right.” He pretended to get his hands clean. “And the foot stamp.” He stamped one foot. The stamping of the feet was our addition. The three of us had always done it to make as much noise as possible, driving the staff and our parents crazy as we sang that song on repeat.

I smirked as I muffled the laughter that was threatening to burst out of me, but the baker guffawed. I gave in, to the disgust of my dragon who didn’t see the point of laughing, and I giggled along with him.

“That was perfect,” I said between sniggers.

“Thank you.” He bowed.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, no. There’s no need for that. People only bow at us in formal situations. My father tossed out the old ways when he took the throne.” Though, of course none of us had known about the antiquated Law of Old. “We’re quite a modern royal family.”

“What?” The joy on his face evaporated, and his expression crumpled.

“What? I thought…”

“You are…?” He didn’t complete the question and instead leaned on the wall and wiped his palms on his apron.

“I am.”

Mine. My dragon was breathing fire, and beads of sweat broke out on my brow as I did my best to contain him.

He pointed to the door. “That older guy?”

“Is a crusty old fool,” I explained.

“Interesting choice of words considering you’re in a bakery.”

“Huh?” What did Gabriel have to do with baked goods? “Oh, you mean his stale aroma.” I glanced around at the recently baked muffins, cookies, pastries, and loaves of bread. “I’m sure there’s nothing in here that’s stale.”

He covered his mouth and snorted. Had I offended him? Perhaps it was bad luck to use that word in a bakery. “Crusty.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Never mind.”

“Shall we start again?” I held out my hand, no longer interested in merely greeting him but wanting us skin to skin. And my dragon was in complete agreement. “Aiden.”

He tilted his head and quirked a brow. “Just Aiden?”

I shrugged. “I am King Ari’s oldest son. Prince Aiden.” He clasped my outstretched hand, and the warmth from his skin rippled through me, becoming a raging inferno. Who needed a dragon or central heating?

He gave an adorable head bob, reminding me of how Brenton described what his mate, Gavin, did when he met our parents. “Please, call me Aiden. Despite being the heir to the Montipan Dynasty, I’m just a regular guy.”

“Your Royal Highness.” He stared at the floor, as if waiting for my command to raise his head.

There was no way to shake off or hide my status. “I should have that tattooed on my forehead. No escaping it, I’m afraid.”

“And yet that’s your title, it’s not who you are,” he pointed out.

“You’re the first person outside my immediate family to say that to me.”

“Really?” He narrowed his eyes. “I mean, I’m a baker, but it’s not who I am.” He paused and pressed his lips together. “Well, perhaps that’s not the best example ’cause it is sort of who I am.”

“I’m lost.”

“Sorry. I’m Shaw. Shaw Miller.”

“Shaw Miller,” I repeated.

“I know. A miller who’s a baker. Weird, huh?”

I chuckled. “You’re a miller. It’s perfect.”

Spots of pink appeared on his cheeks. “So.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of that older guy?” He jerked his head toward the bakery entrance.

“Meh. He’s trying to set me up with the younger one.”

“Oh, ohhhh. So, that prince isn’t your brother? Got it. Odd way to conduct a courtship. Hiding in the toilet.”

“No. No. No. There is no courting. More like