Page 11 of Royal Cocktail

He wore jeans and a black tee, as did the men who accompanied him, and Leo hoped that none of the patrons were such avid royal-watchers that they recognized him. He would hate to see Skye plastered across social media.

As he approached, she crossed her arms protectively across her chest. Her brown eyes shot daggers, though, telegraphing that she didn’t regret the slap at all.

Why would she?

He dipped his head in apology, then met her eyes. “Skye.”

“Don’t … don’t say …” She closed her eyes and he watched as she worked to control her breathing, his heart aching for her as she struggled with the words. When she opened her eyes again, the pain he saw there cut straight through his soul. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.”

“But I am.”

Her shoulders shook. “You’re an ass and a liar and you … you used me.”

“No, I—” But he cut himself off. Maybe she was right. Maybe he had.

“You made me into one of those women you…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t even voice the words, then she shook her head violently. “It doesn’t … matter.”

He glanced around the room. There were eyes on them, but that seemed to be more about the lovers’ quarrel than because they recognized him. He stepped toward her, his hand going to her upper arm before she shook it away. “Please, Skye. If we could just talk.”

She lifted her chin, looking sophisticated and in control. He knew she was a lawyer now, and she looked the part. Her gaze steady. Her chin firm. Her hair was longer and hung in waves to just past her shoulders. She projected sophistication and confidence, and he couldn’t be prouder.

But he couldn’t tell her that. Not unless he wanted her to slap the shit out of him again.

He started to speak, intending to once again ask her to give him just a few moments of time. But she got there first.

“I don’t know what you’re doing back in Austin, but do me a favor and stay far away from me. In case you’re confused, I’m not one of the party girls you hang with at all those villas across Europe.”

Her words came out slow and he knew she was working hard to speak as clearly as possible.

He almost smiled. At least she thought he was worth the effort. For whatever cold comfort that might provide…

“Skye, please. If we could just—”

“I’m leaving now.” She pushed past him and out the door, leaving the familiar scent of lavender in her wake.

God help him, he wanted to cry. Right then, he wanted to sink to the floor and bawl like a baby simply from the horrible pain of knowing how deeply he’d hurt her.

Most of all, he wanted to go after her. To explain. Hell, to grovel.

He almost did, but Jürgen stopped him. “There’s no point. Why hurt her more?”

“Dammit, Jürgen, I need to—”

“You pathetic son-of-a-bitch.”

He turned to see a familiar blonde standing where Skye had been. “Hannah. I—”

“Fuck you, Your Highness.” To her credit, she kept her voice low enough that it was meant only for him. “Although I suppose I should thank you on her behalf,” Hannah continued. “I mean, she learned a valuable lesson. Guess a girl like Skye wasn’t video-and-sound ready enough for a guy like you to have around.”

“No, I—”

“Prick.”

She paused as if waiting for him to defend himself. But how could he? He hadn’t left because of her speech. He hadn’t left because he didn’t want her. But he had left without saying goodbye, and in doing so, he’d hurt her. And that really did make him a prick.

“She fell in love with you.” Hannah’s voice was softer, the words pushed out with emotion. “Being with you … honestly, it was the first time since I’ve known her that she stopped being so aware of how she sounded. To her, it must have been like living in a fairy tale.” She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “You might be a prince, Leo, but you’re no Prince Charming.”

“I never intended to hurt her.”