She was about to ask what he meant when he continued.
“And you? Were you born into a family of lawyers? Or have you chosen this path?”
“Both. My great-grandfather founded a firm. I’ll join, but only if my grades … are up to the firm’s standards. And only … after I clerk for a judge.”
“You’re not willing to just skate because you’re family.”
He said it with approval, and she stood a little taller, amazed that he recognized that in her. And liked it.
“What if you didn’t want to be a lawyer?” he asked as they approached the cross street. “What if you truly didn’t want to, but you absolutely had to?”
The question was so surprising that she actually stumbled to a stop, then looked him up and down. She had no idea why he was asking it. He might simply be making conversation, but somehow she doubted it.
She licked her lips, not sure what the best answer would be, so she said the only true thing that came to mind. “My family wouldn’t do that to me.” But even as she said the words, she wondered if they were true. Her father had aspirations for her, after all.
“Pretend.”
She frowned but tried to really think about the question. “I … I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to let them down, but…”
She trailed off with a shrug, and he nodded.
“Exactly,” he said. “But.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, then his lips curved in a slow smile. “Will you do me a favor?”
She swallowed, feeling a little excited, a little nervous. She had the strange realization that she’d been flirting, something that had never come naturally to her, but it felt good with this guy. Easy. “I don’t know. What’s the favor?”
“Will you turn around and let me buy you a drink?”
She thought of finals coming up. About how she’d been almost relieved that Hannah had bailed on her, because she needed to go lock herself in her apartment, curl up in bed with a mug of coffee and her antitrust book and learn everything she could.
She had things to do, law to learn, concepts to evaluate and turn over in her head until they made sense and felt like a part of her. It was important stuff. Important to her grade and the career she so desperately craved.
But she knew other things were important too, and for some inexplicable reason, she thought that this guy might be one of those things. “I’m Skye,” she said.
“Leo. And is that a yes?”
She nodded, and when he took her hand, it felt like the start of something wonderful.
Chapter Five
“I guess this is our place,” Skye said, after he’d urged her to blow off studying and head back to the bar.
They were standing just inside The Fix on Sixth, looking in at the large room filled with talking, laughing people gathered near the Austin, Texas, mural or sitting at the long, oak bar that ran along the west wall.
“I guess it is,” he said, surprised by the butterflies in his stomach that had flapped into motion at the thought of him and Skye having their own place. “And it looks like we have a welcoming committee.”
She turned her head to look at him quizzically, and he nodded across the room to the broad-shouldered man in a hoodie. The man’s shadowed eyes narrowed as his head cocked to the side as if in question.
“Oh, that’s Griffin,” Skye told him. “He’s a writer. He … camps out here a lot when he’s not traveling.”
“And he’s staring me down because…?” Leopold hoped she had an answer. That this man had an unrequited, but completely understandable crush on Skye, for example. What he didn’t want to learn was that Griffin had recognized him and was about to post a royal sighting on Twitter.
“He might be … worried about me.”
Leopold frowned. “Because I look like a dangerous psycho?”
Her laugh delighted him. “No. Because he … might have noticed me looking at you last night.” Her cheeks bloomed a delightful shade of pink. “He’s probably checking up on me.”
“Oh.” Leopold nodded. “Well, I can’t fault a friend for that.”
“Do you mind?” She took a single step away from him, and he felt her absence immediately. The reaction was surprising—and entirely pleasant. “He knows … I should be studying. He probably … thinks you’re a bad influence.”
“That’s what my family is always saying,” he admitted. “I’m the original bad boy.”
She bit her lip as she studied him, and it took all his effort not to take a nip himself. “I’m not sure I believe that,” she finally said. “But if you are … that could be fun, too.”
Her blush deepened, and he grinned. Somehow he had a feeling that this girl was not the kind to fall for bad boys, and he had a sudden quick stab of regret for all the times that he’d gone a little wild back home.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, then squeezed his fingers before crossing the bar, the warmth of her touch lingering with her lavender scent.
He watched her go, surprisingly relieved to have a moment to gather himself. He was undeniably nervous. Him.
It was ridiculous. He met regularly with heads of state and never had butterflies. He was raised to not be nervous. Other people were supposed to be nervous around him. He wasn’t meant to feel this way. And yet there it was, impossible to miss. Sweaty palms. And those butterflies in his stomach that suggested that whatever he was doing with her was the most important thing in the world.
Leopold settled himself at a table and ordered them both Loaded Coronas. Then he leaned back and searched the bar. She was still there, talking with the writer who kept sneaking glances at Leopold from under that hoodie.
He sipped his drink, enjoying the taste of the beer mixed with rum. As he swallowed, he watched Skye, fascinated by her.
He’d never been attracted to a woman at first sight. He could appreciate a woman, of course, but there’d never been this kind of attraction. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t real. That this was simply a product of him not having dated in a while.
Somehow, he didn’t believe that.
From across the room, Skye caught his eye and waved, then held up two fingers, presumably meaning she’d be back in two minutes. Not a problem. He was content to sip his beer and watch her.
He frowned, feeling eyes on him. Then he turned and saw Jürgen.
The man did his job well, Leopold had to give him that. He’d known the bodyguard had been shadowing them as they walked, and it was to Jürgen’s credit that Leopold was able to completely erase the man from his mind.
He lifted his drink in a subtle toast, and grinned when Jürgen toasted him right back, then tilted his head toward Skye and gave him a small thumbs up.
Leopold rolled his eyes and turned back to the table, but he was more pleased by the approval than he should be.
He glanced at the menu, wondering what kind of appetizers she’d like. When he looked up again, he didn’t see her. A chill shot through his entire body, the fear that she had decided to leave. That her friend had told her that it was a bad idea to go out for drinks with a guy she barely knew, or that she’d found another guy she wanted to be with more.