His Royal Prize. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
about the cream?”
“It probably isn’t thick or sweet enough for him.”
“Ella.” Vi’s voice was strained. “Please.”
The cook gave Livy a quick look then stared down at her hands. No one said anything after that. Vi finished arranging the biscuits on a red cloth napkin lining a basket, and Livy stacked some plates to be taken into the dining room.
Vi was usually the most pleasant, even-tempered person Livy had ever met. But not lately. Her mood could sink lower than the hundred-year-old well out back. There was lots of speculation around the ranch about what was happening. Everyone loved her and they were all concerned.
Personally, Livy figured Vi’s moodiness had to do with all the attention her husband was paying one of the boarders. Her name was Savannah and she was one of those gals who always had on just the right clothes and makeup. Still, Livy didn’t think it was anything to worry about. She’d be a mighty happy woman if she had a husband like Randy Coleman looking at her the way he looked at Vi.
Ella made a tsking noise with her tongue. “You gonna stand there woolgatherin’, or help Vi?”
Livy gave the older woman a cheeky grin. “Good thing you’re such a good cook, because you sure are bossy.”
Ella tried to snap a dish towel across Livy’s fanny, but Livy was too quick and scooted out of the way. “Tell that to His Highness in there.” Ella inclined her head toward the dining room. “He already turned down my blueberry pancakes.”
Livy stopped two feet from the dining room door. Panic fluttered in her belly. He was in there? Already? She thought he was upstairs waiting to be called down. She wasn’t ready to face him yet.
“What’s wrong, Livy? You look as pale as Ella.” Vi put down the spatula and stared at her with concern. “I hope there isn’t a bug going around.”
Livy took a quick breath. “Nope. I’m fine. I was just…” She took another breath, this one deeper. “I was just wondering if I should take some coffee out there.”
“Good idea. I made a fresh pot. Rose was going to come get it, but she must be catching up with her son.”
Livy nodded absently, vaguely recalling that Shay was Rose’s son and that they had only recently met. But it was hard to imagine an elegant, kind lady like Rose having an arrogant, fathead son like Shay.
After retrieving the coffeepot and patting her hair down, Livy pushed through the dining room door. She was tempted to pass by the antique mirror hanging over the corner buffet, but she decided she didn’t give a fig about how she looked. Sort of.
His back was to her, his dark hair damp, probably from his shower. Of course, everyone else had been up for hours doing chores. She doubted he’d ever done a lick of work in his life.
Rose sat to his right, her blond hair held back in a youthful ponytail, making Livy wish she hadn’t let Mickey whack hers off. Another place was set across from Rose, but there was no sign of anyone else.
When a floorboard creaked under Livy’s boot, Rose looked up and smiled. “What a surprise to see you here,” she said, and Livy tried not to wince. “Have you met my son?”
Shay didn’t even bother to turn around to see who Rose was talking to. Livy briefly thought she could set down the coffee and cream and get out before he saw her. Especially after Rose’s comment. He was going to think Livy was here to see him. Which was mostly true, but still…
A slight frown creased the older woman’s brows, and Livy realized she hadn’t responded. Hadn’t done anything, in fact, but stare at the back of Shay’s immobile head. “Uh, yeah, we met,” she mumbled, and saw him straighten.
“Oh, really?” Rose smiled again, and looked from Livy to Shay. “At the stables?”
An innocent question, a logical one, really, since that’s where Livy worked, but she stiffened with guilt and Shay finally turned toward her. It was a slow, almost reluctant movement that set Livy’s teeth clenching. Just before she would have met his eyes, she bowed her head to pour the coffee.
He didn’t say anything, which did nothing to ease Livy’s nerves. Better the jackass didn’t acknowledge her, she told herself, but she couldn’t do a darn thing about the heat crawling up her neck and stinging her cheeks.
“Livy? Are you all right?” Rose started to rise, but Livy waved for her to stay seated.
“I’m fine. Ella’s got some kind of bug, and Mrs. Coleman asked me to help out, but it looks like I might be coming down with something, too.” The words came out so fast and garbled that Livy wanted to sink into the seams of the hardwood floor.
Against her will, her gaze met Shay’s. Amusement glittered in his dark blue eyes, but his expression never wavered.
“The sugar needs replenishing,” he said calmly, and turned his attention away from her.
She blinked, stunned by his dismissal. His callous words dug their claws into her, and hurt replaced surprise. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and glanced at Rose.
The older woman was staring at her son with disapproval. She slowly lifted her napkin to her lips and dabbed a little, letting silence grow before she said, “King Zak is a lovely man. I’m sure he raised you with manners, Sharif.”
Livy wanted to disappear. She looked helplessly at the coffee. Rose would probably understand if Livy left the pot on the table and hightailed it out of here. Of course, judging by the way Shay’s jaw clenched, he just might beat her to the door. Right after he exploded.
But to her utter amazement, he did nothing. After a brief but awkward silence, he said, “I did not mean to be rude.”
He didn’t look at Livy or Rose, but faced straight ahead and that suited Livy just fine. Rose didn’t seem too pleased by the vague apology, but she didn’t push it.
“Your breakfast should be ready at any minute,” Livy mumbled as she poured the coffee, her gaze carefully directed to the chore. “Is there anything else you need besides sugar?”
“I’ll get it.” Rose started to rise. “I told Vi I’d love to help.”
“Oh, no. I’ll get it.” Livy jerked the pot and coffee sloshed over Shay’s cup into the saucer and splattered his shirt cuff. “Oh, boy.” She stared at the spray of brown against the snow-white silk. “Sorry.” She hoped he’d brought a lot of shirts.
He barely moved. His accusing gaze went from the dotted cuff to Livy’s face.
“It was an accident.” She lifted her chin.
“Of course it was,” Rose said, dipping her napkin in her water glass and reaching over to dab at the cuff.
Shay pulled away, and looked at Livy again. He said nothing as he extended his hand toward her, the soiled part of the cuff facing her.
Obviously he wanted her to clean it. She stared him down for a moment, tempted to pour the rest of the coffee over his head. But for Rose’s sake, Livy forced a smile and set the pot aside.
“Sharif.” Annoyance edged into Rose’s voice.
“No problem,” Livy said quickly, and plucked Shay’s linen napkin off his lap. Before he knew what she was doing, she dipped the fabric into his water glass and blotted the cuff.
He stared in disbelief. First at his wrist, and then at her. “Are you mad?”
“Fuming, actually,” she said, her temper overcoming her embarrassment. He had kissed her just yesterday, and now he was treating her as if he barely knew her. Or worse, as if she was his personal maid. What a jerk!
“Mad as in insane.” He snatched the napkin out of her hand, and started rubbing at the coffee stains himself.
“Gee, I’m glad to see you can do something for yourself.” Livy