âHow much longer will this go on?â
âItâll get faster now. The next few speakers arenât quite so fond of the sound of their own voices.â
He stifled a yawn. âThat woman in the front row, the one with the enormous hat.â
Rebecca knew instantly who he was referring to. Her hat, smothered in apricot silk roses, was possibly the largest sun hat she had ever seen. And sheâd seen a lot of hats. The two people seated on either side of her were leaning subtly outward to avoid hitting it. âMrs. Smythe-Robinson. She loves all things royal, knows more about us than I do even, and her second love is gardening.â
âI thought maybe she was planning on making a run for it, that the hat was camouflage. You know, crouch down amongst the bushes and tiptoe for the exit.â
Rebecca stifled her smile at the thought of the portly Mrs. Smythe-Robinson, a stickler for protocol, doing any such thing.
âBut if sheâs not going to use it, I say we do. Iâll create a diversion, you get the hat, itâs big enough for both of us, and we make a run for it.â
Laughter hiccupped within her. She oughtnât to be laughing. These things were not supposed to be funny. But it was such a change to be sitting with someone who didnât take them seriously and didnât even pretend to.
âI thought you needed to be seen with my father.â
âPhotographers snapped us arriving together. Your fatherâs here. The right connections will be made.â A slide show, set to orchestral music, began playing on the screen to the side. âWhat do you say? On three?â he asked.
She focused on her duties, her responsibilitiesânow was not the time to let him distract her. âThereâs a ribbon to cut.â
He sagged back into his seat. âThe ribbon cutting is your job, I take it?â
She nodded. âItâs a hereditary role.â And she didnât need to ask how insignificant that would look to someone who ran a multinational corporation heâd founded after dropping out of college. âI took over after my mother died.â The mother whose grace and warmth had added elegance to whatever she did. The mother whoâd died when Rebecca was a child.
His hand closed around hers. Was that sympathy? âSoyouâre pretty handy with knives and scissors,â he said half a minute later.
âJust some of my many talents. Timing is very important.â
âDonât belittle your skills or responsibilities. I know you work with schools and hospitals and that both the local fashion and tourist industries credit you with their recent upsurges in business, and that The Princess Foundation has raised a huge amount of money to benefit many charities.â
âI do my job.â
âYou do. And you do it well. And I owe you an apology.â
âAn apology?â She smiled. âThatâs not a word Iâd have thought would often pass your lips.â
He matched that smile, his own wry. âItâs not. Because I try never to be in the wrong. And generally Iâm successful. But I came here with preconceived notions of royalty and I let them color my opinion of you. I even said as much to you. Which you took with remarkably good grace. Which made it all the worse as I came to realize how wrong I was. So, yes, I apologize.â
âThank you.â What else could she say?
âThereâs that good grace again. The one that almost makes me feel worse. You could try gloating?â
âGloatingâs not really my style.â
âIâve noticed. Itâs one of the many things I admire about you.â
âAre you up to something? Is there an agenda here Iâm not seeing?â
Logan laughed. âNot at all. Itâs justâ¦youâre different from any other woman Iâve known. And I have to admit I like those differences. The whole serenity thing you
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