Читать книгу The Royal Treatment - MaryJanice Davidson - Страница 16

Christina started to get a bad feeling when the smell hit her. Bird droppings and dead fish. The last time she’d smelled that, she was in Boston visiting the New England Aquarium.

But in the palace? What the hell? Sure, she was on the farthest west end of the palace…much farther and she’d be out on the lawn, but that smell…ugh!

She tapped on a door marked P, P, for P and at David’s “Come!” entered cautiously.

“I knew it!” she said as the smell assaulted her anew. “You’ve got penguins in here!”

He straightened up from where he’d been leaning and tossing fish into the water. He was dressed in navy shorts, belted at the waist, a billowy white shirt open at the throat, and sandals. His big blue eyes gleamed at her in a friendly way, and stubble bloomed along his cheek. It was almost enough to distract her from the reek.

Almost.

“Hello again. Forgive my appearance, but I had the distinct impression you wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t in a suit. Aren’t they charming?”

“Bleah, no!”

He froze in the act of dropping another dead fish, and nearly lost the first two fingers on his left hand to a particularly hungry penguin. “What?”

She threw up her hands. “Jeez, Dave, you are so spoiled! This whole crown prince gig makes things really easy, doesn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but in five minutes you won’t notice the smell. Now, I’m having our dinner delivered up here in ten minutes, but there’s champagne in the—”

“Ugh, we’re eating in here? Amid messy birds and fish scales? What is wrong with you? A normal guy would never, ever get away with this. But you can bring girls to this stinky room and they actually pretend to be into it, don’t they?”

He cocked his head—just like the penguins were doing!—and said sharply, “Pretend?”

She folded her hands over her breasts and looked adoringly at him. “Oh, Your Highness, they’re so cuuuute! And they swim so fast! And look, they’re eating right out of your manfully royal hand! And they don’t smell like fishy shit or anything!” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, then had to stop when it made her dizzy. “Seriously, Dave. That whole, ‘Hi, I’m going to be the king of Alaska someday…how you doin’?’ thing works pretty well for you, doesn’t it?”

“What is wrong with a hobby?” he demanded, wiping his hands on a nearby towel.

“Hobby! There’s gotta be a hundred of the little buggers in here. So you, like, kidnapped them from Canada or wherever—”

“Antarctica,” he said sourly.

“—then shut them up in your little palace of horrors—”

“I did not!” He angrily shook his head. “By that I mean, they have plenty of room, they’re happy, and they’re in no danger of being devoured by a killer whale or a walrus in here.”

“No, they’re just in danger of making guests pass out from the stink. But I guess that’s okay.”

“Well, I’m not getting rid of them,” he shouted, “no matter how many freckles you have!”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Well, I’m not eating in here.”

“You certainly are, Christina!”

“Oh, that’s supposed to be a royal order or something? Fact check, Prince Penguin, I’m an American citizen. You can’t make me do shit.”

“Then go away,” he snapped.

“In a New York minute, pal! If I see one more bird shit on those rocks, I’m going to yark. Not that you’d notice the smell. And what’s P, P, for P?”

“What?” He was very red, but took a deep breath and seemed to recover enough temper to answer the question. “It’s Privacy, Please, for the Penguins.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Oh, I’m gonna puke right now,” she finally decided, and let herself out.

The moment she left, David hurled the contents of the last bucket into the water, and watched moodily while the cleverest, most charming creatures on the planet devoured the last of the fish.

“Well,” Edmund coughed, emerging from one of the storage areas, a hose coiled over his shoulder, “that went well.”

David nearly fell into the penguin pond. It was absolutely uncanny the way Edmund popped up and disappeared, never being heard or seen unless he chose to. “What are you doing here? If the rocks need to be washed off, I’ll take care of it.”

“I was merely anticipating your needs, sir, as any good assistant—”

“Eavesdropper!”

“—would do. It’s just as well.”

“What?”

“Well, the last thing in the world you need is a wife and partner who will tell you the truth, no matter how unpleasant. You need a flatterer, a panderer, a—”

“—woman like my mother, no thanks.” He stared gloomily into the water for a long moment. “Well, I’m not getting rid of them, and that’s that.”

“As crown prince, you don’t have to do much you don’t wish to.”

“The biggest lie of all,” he sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. She’s—well, refreshing, at the least.” He thumped his chest with a closed fist. “And she got me right here—I have had other girls up here, and they’ve seemed to go into raptures about birds that eat fish but can’t fly.”

“Fascinating creatures,” Edmund conceded, “but not that fascinating. Ah, supper for two,” he added as a footman rapped on the door and wheeled in a prodigious amount of food.

“Take it to the gallery,” David grumbled. “I’ll be there directly. As soon as I’m sure I can talk to her without strangling her.”

“The gallery?”

“That’s where she probably is.”

Edmund cocked an eyebrow at him. “And how does His Highness know that?”

“Oh, she loves it in there. I think she likes looking at all the relatives. Because she doesn’t have any, you know.” He hurried to the sink in the far corner and washed his hands. “This is assuming she hasn’t left the palace in disgust.”

“Oh, if only.”

“What?”

“Dry air.” Edmund coughed, and coiled the hose neatly on a rock, and followed the prince out the door. “I’ve still got to look into that, I suppose.”