“Fine. But don’t curtsy to me. And don’t call me Prince Alexander.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Then what shall I call you? Your Royal Highness?”
“Don’t make me take that box back,” he says, his lips further tugging towards a smile. “Because if you throw out Your Royal Highness or Prince Alexander one more time, I will not only take the box back, but I’ll eat the contents.”
This makes me laugh. “Okay. I shall call you Xander.”
He goes back to texting. “Glad we have that sorted. Shall I text Christian or Clementine?”
“I’m meeting with both of them, so Christian is fine. Please apologise profusely on my behalf.”
He nods, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. “Okay. By the way, I shall call you Poppy.”
“Xander?”
He lifts his gaze once again to meet mine.
“Thank you for everything you have done for me,” I say softly. “You didn’t have to get soaked trying to help me, but you did. I owe you for saving those biscuits. That box is my future. At least, what could have been before they became damaged.”
For the first time since he saved my box from tumbling to the earth, I take a good look at him. Xander is much more handsome in real life than he is in magazines or on TV, and I thought he was gorgeous then. He’s tall; I’d guess between 6’3” and 6’4”. Xander has thick, dark hair that he seems to prefer swept off his forehead. He’s not clean-shaven, as his face is shaded with a five o’clock shadow that gives him a rugged, sexy look. His cheekbones are defined. I study his lips. The top lip is not full, but the bottom lip is lush and perfect.
Now I understand why women succumb to his charm. Because his looks are striking alone but combined with charm?
Lethal.
“It was my pleasure,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “And Poppy? They can still see—and taste—your talent, no matter what has happened inside of that box.”
I lift my eyes to his. I’m startled when I truly look into them. They are dark, like an inky, indigo blue, and fringed by long, black lashes.
I feel a fluttering in my stomach. I’m too tongue-tied to respond, something that has never happened to me before.
Before I can manage to say something, I hear Liz coming down the stairs.
And the odd moment, the strange feeling that just flickered through me, is gone with the sound of her footsteps.
“Sorry,” Liz says, greeting me with a smile. “That took me a while, but I found some clothes you can borrow. You can’t sit in a meeting with wet clothing. It would be awful.”
“What?” I ask, appalled that she was rummaging around for clothing for me.
“I know I’m a bit taller than you, Poppy, but I put some joggers and a hoodie out for you to change into in the guest bedroom. There’s some makeup remover wipes on the chest of drawers, along with a towel and a hairdryer.”
“Oh, I can’t take your clothing, Your Royal Highness,” I gasp, appalled at the thought.
Because wearing a princess’s joggers? Gah!
“First, I’m Liz. I’ve always told you to call me that,” she chides, smiling warmly at me. “And you can return the clothes when you are finished with them.” Then she turns to Xander. “As for you, Xander, you need to go home and change. I don’t have anything except for a meeting this afternoon, so you can come back for coffee after you’ve dried off.”
I glance at Xander, who once again rakes a hand through his wet hair. “You need to take the clothes, Poppy. You don’t want to get sick.”
Once again, a weird, fluttering feeling sweeps over me. Good God, what is that? And why is it happening in connection to Xander?
“I insist,” Liz says. “The guest room is upstairs, second door on the right.”
“Thank you. I’m very grateful for your kindness.”
Liz smiles brightly at me. “Have the bakery make lemon bars a permanent item on the menu, and I’ll consider it an even exchange.”
I smile. “I will.” Then I turn my attention to Xander. “I can’t thank you enough for all of your help this morning. You didn’t have to do anything to help me, and you did. I don’t know how I can repay you for your kindness.”
He’s silent for a moment. From what I’ve read about him, I half-expect some kind of flirty remark, but then I realise that wouldn’t be directed to a girl like me.