A Royal World Apart. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
just got out of the car together, Mak, it’s pretty obvious that I’m with you.”
“Just walk on,” he repeated, his voice firm as he closed the door behind her.
Frustration built in her chest, like a hardening knot. It was completely disproportionate to the situation, but that didn’t stop it from getting even worse.
“Fine,” she said, turning and heading toward her favorite coffee shop. It had been a long time since she’d been able to go out for coffee. Trips out on the town were a rare treat, typically reserved for the times when Marlo and Sidney were around and their security team joined forces with hers. They were always a spectacle, the three of them, with everyone giving them a wide berth. Often, their security detail would go into shops first and clear them of clientele before they went in.
It was all a bit over the top. And as far from normal as anything she could imagine. This would be a different angle on it. Still, hardly normal with a large, muscular man in a custom black suit stalking her like predator.
She turned and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He pretended not to notice, choosing to fade into the crowd around him. Not that he could really fade, not in the sense that he could go unnoticed. But he blended into his surroundings like something organic to the cityscape.
He looked more a part of Kyonos than she’d ever felt she was.
She turned away from him and focused on the shops that lined the narrow streets. English and Greek were spoken in Kyonos, and both languages were printed on signs in newer parts of the city, but in old town, it was predominantly Greek. Here there were still market stalls, with fish and fruit and homemade pitas. She liked it better than the polished, uniform look found deeper in the city.
She made her way into the kafenio, and she could feel Mak follow her in. She focused on the surroundings instead of turning to look at him. She always enjoyed coming here. It was small, with lavish details carved into darkly stained wood. Old books filled the shelves and mismatched armchairs were placed in front of small boutique tables.
It was intimate. Quirky. Everything the palace was not. Everything she looked for when she sought to escape the confines of her family home.
She approached the counter and spoke in Greek to the woman working the register.
“Coffee. Metrio, please.” The hair on the back of her neck stood up, a shot of adrenaline spiking in her veins. Mak had gotten closer to her. Strange how she was so certain of that fact. That she was so very aware of him. “And another please. No sugar.”
Mak didn’t seem like the sugar type.
Eva paid for both drinks and collected the white cups after the woman finished pouring the thick coffees. “Efharisto,”
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