Loyally, Luke, page 21
A gathering to ensure some of the most vulnerable children of Skymar were provided for and educated well. And now, with her heart and head in the right place, she felt all the more her calling to these children, these people.
Ellie smiled.
Her people.
Additional attendees dotted the space. This year, the board had invited some of the media to attend in order to increase visibility.
The idea of their presence sent a tremor through Ellie’s stomach, but she stilled the nerves as best she could. It was time to accept this part of her life again . . . and try to use it for good. Besides, she wouldn’t be alone. Luke would be with her.
But where was he?
Quietly, she moved back through the hallways, nodding to several workers and newly arriving guests as she passed. She should have contacted him to remind him, but having his phone number tempted her toward another level of intimacy—texting.
And she loved good texts.
Their banter confirmed they’d have equally enjoyable texts.
She gave her head a shake to push back temptation and rounded the hallway to the kitchen. A familiar silhouette caught her attention and she skidded to a stop at the threshold of the room.
Luke stood on the far side of the kitchen, staring out the window and brushing his hair to the side with his fingers. Was he using the window as a mirror?
She slipped back a step into the shadows for subtler observation.
She liked his hair. Dark and thick with a bit of wave. Her fingers twitched from the memory of brushing through it during one of their kisses. She hadn’t seen him in a few days, partly by choice and partly because of the demands of other commitments, but she hadn’t expected to see him in green.
A green button-down, open at the collar, to be specific. He’d paired the quality dress shirt with black dress slacks that fit him . . . well—her neck heated—very well.
All the interest and emotions she’d experienced while cocooned in his arms during the sledding rushed back at full force. Absence had indeed made the heart grow fonder.
Or it only confirmed all the more why she needed to keep her distance.
Because she wanted him too badly.
His conversations, his smile, his look of admiration, his strength, and especially his kiss.
All of it.
Badly.
He cleared his throat and pulled a folded piece of paper from his slacks pocket, unfolding it and staring back at his reflection. Mumbling something to his reflection, he gave his head a hard shake and then seemed to try again . . . except this time, he must have caught sight of her because he turned, offering her that crooked smile.
Right, she’d forgotten how much she wanted to see that crooked smile. Every day.
“Think I look civilized enough?”
“Very nice.” She stepped forward, trying very hard to keep her ogling to a respectable minimum. “Dark green is a good color on you.”
He refolded the paper and placed it back in his pocket, his body tense. “Blue is a great one on you. The suit is nice, even if I prefer you in sweaters and jeans.”
Her laugh burst out. “Do you?”
“Without a doubt.” He tilted his head, studying her as he met her halfway across the room. “Few things are quite as sexy as a beautiful woman looking cozy and huggable.”
Any response fled her brain as the magnetism his words inspired drew her body and heart another step closer. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Probably not.” He sighed. “But I think things like that a whole lot more than I ought to.”
“So do I.” She nearly whimpered and then shook her head. “I mean, I don’t think those things about me. I think them about you.”
His grin took a steady and dangerous slide from one corner to the other. Be still her heart! “Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Miss me?”
“It’s probably the worst thing to do, but I’d prefer to see you while I can.” His eyes glinted. “You’re much better on the eyes than most of the people I work with.”
“I think Gordon might take offense to that.”
“He pretends to take offense to a lot of things.”
Silence followed his statement and Ellie stared back at him, taking in those eyes . . . but more so the way those eyes looked at her. She wanted to bask in it.
“You stay pretty busy, don’t you?”
“At this time of year, I do.” She nodded, pulling her gaze from his. “It seems that most of the meetings and parties and all the other royal business for the North Country get smashed into the first half of the year. By July, I get a bit of a respite until Christmas planning starts, though.”
“Well, at least there’s a break in the crazy.” He glanced toward the hallway and sighed. “I guess we’d better get to the luncheon?”
A sudden thought flickered across her mind. “You’re . . . you’re not concerned about speaking, are you?”
He grimaced. “I’m just not that great at speaking in front of people. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.”
“But you spoke to Father so well. Clear and focused. With passion.”
“That was to you and your dad, not a roomful of people.” He raised a brow. “And definitely not to any media.”
“I know you’re going to be excellent.” She gestured toward the hallway. “But we do need to make an appearance at least. However, if you find you’re becoming overwhelmed, you could just imagine you’re saying it to me.”
His grin partially resurfaced. “That might help a little.”
They turned toward the door and Ellie’s gaze caught on the far wall: the old boards of children’s names framed in aged oak poised on the pale wall.
“Luke, it looks marvelous.” She stepped closer, staring at the evidence of lives lived within these walls and now brought out into the light. “Mrs. Kershaw must adore it.”
“She seemed pretty pleased.” His shoulder brushed hers as they stared at this special piece of history for Cambric. “I think she plans to give the donors a tour of the renovations once all the speaking is over, so I wanted to have it up and ready for her.”
“I know you’ve mentioned how your youngest sister has some magical quality of helping other people believe in themselves, but I think it must be a family trait.”
“I’m not magical.” He wrinkled his nose with his grimace. “I’m practical.”
“Perhaps your type of magic begins with wearing overalls and carrying a hammer but ends with making other people shine or find where they belong. You may be behind the scenes, but you are no less important than those who take the stage. In fact, without you, they may not even make it to the stage.”
He held her gaze for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically sober before it dissolved into a mock frown. “Now I know you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies. You’re starting to sound all sentimental, like them.”
She laughed and took his proffered arm as they made their way to the luncheon room.
They had paused at the threshold when a sudden sight sent a chill from Ellie’s neck all the way down to her feet.
On the far side of the room, near a set of tables set aside for the media, stood an unwelcome familiar pair. Drake Stephens, the reporter who’d taken the photos that led to her royal exile, and Maxim Tatem, Ellie’s ex-boyfriend who’d led the paparazzi to her.
After all the media coverage, interviews, and even a book from which Maxim had benefited, his popularity landed him a daily television spot. A placement that wasn’t as popular as it had once been.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, his voice low.
Ellie knew how to remain calm externally. Her family trained her for the careful control of a person in the spotlight, but Maxim and Drake’s presence brought her past and insecurities to the surface, rattling her new confidence.
“That man, in the navy suit and pale blue shirt.”
“Next to the guy in the crazy orange?”
Ellie almost grinned at Luke’s description of Drake. “Yes, him. The one in the orange is the man who took the photos of me on the yacht over three years ago.”
She didn’t need to clarify the type of photos those had been. Or what little she’d been wearing. At the time, in her wrong thinking and blind trust, she’d believed Maxim meant to protect her, to provide her privacy.
She’d been horribly wrong.
“And the man in the navy suit . . .”
“The scoundrel who set you up.” Luke’s tone rumbled low, threatening. Without a word, he placed a palm to her back, both calming and safe. “What’s he doing here?”
Luke’s presence, his touch, took a little of the sting out of Maxim’s presence. She wasn’t alone. The one time she’d seen Maxim after the photos and stories ruined her life, he’d looked at her with such arrogance and self-conceit.
She’d wilted beneath his stare, a victim of his deceit all over again.
Because not only had he betrayed her, but when she’d tried to break up with him, he’d spread horrible lies to anyone who would listen. And even continued to share private photos of them for the whole world to see.
Shame scorched her cheeks with such heat, her eyes began to water.
For months, she’d taken all the blame for his response, embracing what the media called her. Receiving her just deserts. After all, she’d chosen to be with him. She’d ignored the warnings of those closest to her, rebelled against the good and right.
She’d “earned” the soured reputation. The mishandling.
But with the love of her family and months of counseling, she’d begun to see how very wrong her thinking had become.
“His show’s ratings are down, so I imagine by somehow reconnecting our stories, he hopes to gain some views.” She looked over at Luke as a shiver climbed up her arms. “And likely intimidate me. He was always good at that.”
“Well, he’ll have to get through me to get to you.” Luke gestured with his chin to a man poised nearby. “And Cameron.”
Who seemed to recognize his name surfacing in the conversation, because he and Luke shared an understanding nod.
“Are the two of you friends now?”
Luke smirked. “I’m not saying we’re going to take up Xbox together, but I think we have a healthy respect for each other, especially when it comes to a certain princess we know.”
She readied her response when a movement to her right caught her attention. Maxim saw her . . . and was walking in her direction. All confidence fled her body as she kept a threadbare hold on her expression.
“Maybe you should pretend to be my date?”
Luke’s brows rose so high they hit the strands of hair that fell over his forehead. “I’m sorry? Did you just say pretend to be your date?”
Maxim was stopped by someone during his approach.
Ellie attempted to control the sudden quiver in her voice. “Maxim is on his way over here and I . . . I can’t let him think I’m alone, Luke. Not him.”
“You’re not alone. I’m right here with you.” He waved toward the crowd. “And there are a few dozen other people.”
“Luke.” She hated the pleading in her voice. “He’s the sort who won’t let it alone.”
“So . . . fake dating?” He pushed the trope out of his mouth like it hurt.
“Might as well stick to as many tropes as we can while we’re at it, right?” She pushed up a tense smile. “And it would only be for today. With him.”
He squinted down at her for a second and then grinned. “What if I want it to be real for one day?”
“We’ve already been over this.” She huffed. “How can it be real between the two of us when it’s so temporary?”
“Being temporary doesn’t make it less real.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to ignore the pull of his gaze.
“How about it’s real for me but fake for you?”
She nearly laughed. “How can that even work?”
“I’ll just mean it and you won’t.”
She rolled her gaze heavenward, wrestling with her smile.
“If I do this”—he lowered his attention to her lips, his lashes sweeping low—“will the kisses be fake too?”
Heat exploded in her face. “Luke!”
“Ellie!” he countered with the same voiced emotion, only his was rather teasing.
She narrowed her eyes at him in powerless reprimand.
He leaned closer. “I don’t like being fake.” The soft curl in his low voice nearly melted her to the floor. “So, Ellie, would you go on a date with me today?” He wiggled his brows. “If you say yes, then we won’t have to lie.”
She couldn’t actually think well enough to speak.
“And then my reward kisses won’t have to be fake either.”
She stared up at him, wishing there was a way to make him her future because she . . . she wanted every date, every feeling, every kiss to be very real. She rallied from the wonderful aura of his nearness and stepped back a little from his distracting touch. “But we can’t present ourselves as a serious relationship, Luke.”
“Great, I prefer humor anyway.”
“Luke,” she said through her laugh, “I mean it. The media won’t leave you alone and they’ll distort whatever they see.” Her gaze pleaded with him. “I don’t want you to have to manage any of that. It’s horrible.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “We can weather a lot of things for the people we care about.” The gleam returned to his eyes along with an added wiggle to his brows. “But I’ll try to play nice.”
“Oh dear.” She couldn’t control her grin resurfacing.
“You promised the aforementioned reward, so this whole room could do about anything to me and I’ll be just fine.”
“I did not promise—”
“Princess Elliana?”
The voice brought unwelcome and shameful memories with it, even souring her own name to her ears. She turned to find Maxim in a suit he’d somehow managed to make look too relaxed, with Drake by his side, the latter staring with wide, ravenous eyes in search of the next story.
“Mr. Tatem.” She turned to Drake. “Mr. Stephens. How good of you to come to support our children here.”
“Mr. Tatem?” Maxim raised a golden brow. “Such formality. Should I bow?”
Her left hand shook from the effort to contain her emotions, so she fisted it at her side. “I don’t know that you suffer from following the ‘shoulds,’ Mr. Tatem, so I’ll leave your response to your own discretion.”
“Still nursing old wounds, are we, Elliana?”
Luke’s palm warmed her lower back, reminding her of his presence. Somehow, strength passed from him to her. She stood a bit straighter. “Oh no, Mr. Tatem. I have no need nor desire to highlight or waste time on insignificant scars. I prefer to learn from my past and move forward with a much better perspective, instead of renewing grudges or dwelling on past mistakes.” She turned toward Luke. “May I introduce you to my guest, Mr. Luke Edgewood.”
“Guest?” Maxim’s gaze roamed over Luke with unveiled humor before he turned back to Ellie. “I hope you and the Duke of Styles haven’t fallen out.”
Ellie stilled her expression. Oh no! She hadn’t told Luke about Christopher.
Luke held out his hand in greeting. “The duke was unavailable, so she had to settle for the peasant.”
She looked over at him and he shot her a wink.
And at that very moment, she knew she loved him.
Maxim scoffed and stared down at Luke’s hand for a moment before taking it. “How do I know your face? I rarely converse with peasants.”
“I’m only here to help with some renovations for the orphanage.” Luke gestured toward Ellie. “Princess Elliana was kind enough to include me in the festivities surrounding some of the work I’m doing.”
“What a boon for your confidence, to be the guest of royalty!” Drake interjected, like the approval-seeking pup he was.
Ellie stifled a cringe.
“I suppose that speaks to the type of person the princess is, doesn’t it?” Luke didn’t miss a beat. “Aware enough to make the changes necessary to help others, but humble enough to realize we’re all the same at heart. Royal or not.”
Oh, he really wanted his reward, didn’t he? And deserved every bit of it.
“Which is why we’re all here, isn’t it?” Ellie added, matching his lighter tone. “Through service and love to these children, we encourage a better future for them and for Skymar. They are the future, aren’t they?”
Maxim’s smile failed to resurface, which only teased Ellie’s wider.
“Or they’ll only end up moving away as many others have,” Maxim challenged.
“If you knew your current news, Mr. Tatem, you’d realize that trend is subsiding due to many of the programs my parents have initiated, as well as growing interest in Skymar across the globe.” She gestured toward Luke. “And Mr. Edgewood has suggestions to advance those ideals further.”
The light left Luke’s eyes, and he merely nodded in agreement.
Maxim’s doubt splayed across his features without any subtlety. “It should be interesting to hear what you bring from your experience, Mr. Edgewood.” He bent his head toward Ellie. “Princess.”
Ellie turned to him as soon as they were out of earshot. “Luke, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Christopher.” At Luke’s confused look she clarified, “The Duke of Styles. We are friends, but presently I’ve made it clear that I have no other feelings toward him.”
“This guy on the list?”
“One of several.” Her shoulders drooped a little. “I didn’t mention him because I didn’t want you to think—”
“I knew about the duke.”
Her bottom lip dropped. “You did?”
His knowing look took a sympathetic turn. “Ellie, I googled you, remember? Your life is pretty available to see. I think the duke may have taken you out for Italian on the last date?”
“That particular instance was not a date; it was a coincidence.” She winced, searching his face. “I hope you know I’m not as I was, and even now, what they publish, it isn’t the real me.”
