told a funny joke. When she answers, her accent is clearly German or Austrian. “Oh, excuse me. I am so clumsy sometimes.” She sticks out a hand. “I am Gretchen.”
I grip her palm, shaking my head at the same time as I shake her hand. “It was all my doing. I'm Pippa, by the way.”
She arches a brow. “Oh, I know who you are. I think everybody in this room knows who you are. It's nice to meet you, Pippa.”
I blush. “Yes, I keep forgetting that I am engaged to the second most famous man here. It's all pretty new still.”
“What's new?” Lars asks, coming up from behind me. His hands land on my waist and he pulls me a little closer to him, kissing the top of my head. I blush again, feeling like that gesture is something intimate and private, usually just kept between the two of us.
I look up at him, shooting him in a look. “Our engagement. I was just telling Gretchen here that I keep forgetting why everyone knows who I am already even though I don't know them.”
He squeezes me a little. “Ja, it's true. She is still pretty starstruck by being engaged to me.”
Without thinking about it, I actually glare at him and hit him on the shoulder. Gretchen titters at us.
“Look at the two of you. Aren't you just made for each other?”
Gretchen beams at both of us. I slide my glance over to Lars, expecting… Well, I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting.
Perhaps he would be looking at her in a certain way that indicated interest. Or laughing at what she just said even though it wasn't really a joke. Or if my own experiences being true of his style, he might even touch her wrist or slide his arm around her waist.
But instead, I look at him and find him staring directly at the dark and space between my breasts. He isn't even remotely listening to Gretchen. He isn't staring at her, even though she is tall and blonde and extremely thin and gorgeous. Not to mention she is wearing a dress that would shame the devil.
Lars doesn’t even seem to notice her. He looks up at me, cocking a grin, and my cheeks flame scarlet. I can't do anything but give him a secretive smile. His intention is just so all-encompassing that I sink into his eyes for a long moment, forgetting that Gretchen even exists.
I bite my lower lip. He pulls me in closer, smirking a little. His fingers tighten on my waist.
I know that he is not actually mine. And I know that just because he's paying attention to me right now doesn't mean he will be in the future. But it feels so good to be looked at in this way, by this man, at this moment.
“Well, I can see you two are busy… If you will excuse me, I have to find the ladies room…” Gretchen says, smiling and wandering off.
I look up at Lars, wrinkling my nose. “Was that rude? It felt rude.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I couldn't care less. If I had to make a list of all the people who I was rude to in a day, I would never do anything else.”
I quirk my lips. “As long as you're not rude to me, I suppose I don't have anything to say about that.”
He draws me close, raising my chin with his finger. The press of his lips against mine is brief and not nearly deep enough for my liking. But we are in a ballroom full of people and we should probably be on our best behavior.
Lars sighs. “I have to catch Stellan again before we leave,” he says. He frowns a little. “I think I actually know something that will help him in negotiations with the minister of Belgium. Do you mind if I just…?”
I smile. “Of course not. I'm actually going to step outside for a minute and just get some cool air. You wouldn't believe how hot this dress is.”
Lars looks me up and down, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I believe it. You know where it's gonna look even better than it looks on you right now?”
I pull away from him, rolling my eyes and smiling. “If you say on your floor, I am going to revolt. And you should take that seriously, Prince Lars.”
I waggle my finger at him, heading away toward the big balcony doors that open up into the night. A