Page 9 of The Prince Who Loved Me

“You want me to look like a gaping fish?” He had already found his nice girl. Any account he created would soon get deleted.

“Then say cheese. Or, you know, whatever you do in Casanges instead of giving me that glare.”

He looked at her, her blonde hair outshining the sun, and smiled.

“Damn, Sebastien, you’ll find a date faster than me with those looks. The sun is really making your hair a great coppery-bronze. Now turn your chin to the right and extend your neck.”

He did so, grimacing at the stretched position. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“Not a clue, but it’s what you told me to do so it must be right, because I look gorgeous.”

He lowered his chin and took her hands in his. “Why are you putting yourself through this again? You should ditch your responsibilities and come away with me.”

The light went out in her unusual eyes. “That’s my problem, isn’t it? That’s what I used to do. That’s the Old Brandi. Now there’s the distillery, and the Inn, and for the first time in my life, I have people counting on me, and not to be arm candy. And I like it.”

Damn, he should’ve known that was the wrong approach.“Then have dinner with me tonight instead.”

“Ooh, are you going to rent a plane and fly me to Paris to a restaurant in sight of the Eiffel tower?”

“That overdone cliché?” he scoffed. Though he could picture him and Brandi, strolling around the city of love. “I was thinking that seafood place in Macon that shares its space with the gas station.”

She laughed. “I’ll just grab something from the kitchen.” She scrolled through the pictures, then cast a glance up at him. “We can catch a movie later if you want.”

She didn’t get it. “Maybe tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah.” She grabbed his hand and led him back to the house. “Sure. Let’s go inside and pick one of these.”

“Happy to help.” That sounded like the most fun he’d had all decade. He should have had her pose while picking her nose or with the faces she made when putting on makeup.

Who was he kidding? Her vivaciousness would shine through even if she was wearing a mask.

They settled themselves at one of the cherrywood tables in the dining room, under portraits on the wall of generations of her family. Sebastien scrutinized each picture, and knew the minute he saw it. “That one.”

He’d been right about her personality. A gentle breeze had lifted her long hair away from her heart-shaped face and he caught her mid-laugh, her nose crinkling in the most adorable way while her eyes shone with her internal brightness. His body tightened and he shifted so she wouldn’t see. He glanced up at the photograph of her great grandfather to make sure he hadn’t seen, either.

“You think?” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her phone. “I don’t look… frivolous?”

“You look like you. Gorgeous and with depth.”

She put her phone down and picked up her tablet. “Youalways say the nicest things to me.” She swiped and typed until she found the site she wanted. “I need a nickname for this site. After you register, you’re not allowed to use your real name.”

“WhiskeyWoman.”

“I’ll sound like an alcoholic.”

“BlondeBeauty.”

“Conceited much? Besides, that’s too much like a horse. And it shouldn’t be about my looks.”

Sebastien closed his eyes and let images of Brandi fill his mind. He’d sketched her often enough to recall every detail perfectly. Her unusual eyes, pert nose, full lips. She was always full of joy and hope, even when her life dealt her harsh blows.

“Joie De Vie,” he said quietly.

“Ooh, I like the way that sounds. Especially with your charming accent.” She furrowed her brows. “Something of life?”

“Joy.”

“I love it.” She tapped on the tablet.