Page 48 of Royally Matched
That doesn’t stop me wanting to do it, though.
“We shouldn’t be laughing,” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes, her face bright.
“Why not? It was bloody funny,” I say.
“This was meant to be an elegant afternoon tea party to honor leaders in the community.”
“Not a free for all for a couple of labs on the loose?”
She lets out another laugh. “Absolutely not.”
We look down at the dog terrorists. Their recent excitement has worn off, and they are both lying on the grass at the side of the path, panting and looking thoroughly pleased with their efforts. They notice us watching them, and immediately spring to their feet, their tails wagging.
“They’re too adorable to be angry with for very long,” Sofia says as she leans down to pet them.
“You’re right,” I agree. “Who can resist those faces?”
Pepper’s head tilts to the side, her ears pricked up as though she knows we’re talking about her.
“Does your brother really not like dogs?” Sofia asks after a beat.
I straighten up. “He—” I begin, but judging by the way he reacted today, she already has a fairly clear idea. “He doesn’t. But I do, if that’s any consolation.”
“Oh.” She presses her lips together, and it’s clear to me she’s disappointed.
“That doesn’t mean he won’t grow to love Lemon and Pepper if you get married.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Busted.
I shrug. What else can I do?
She lifts her chin and tightens her features, the easy camaraderie between us of only moments ago suddenly vanishing. “I suppose you see our difference of opinion over dogs as another reason for us not to marry.”
I raise my hands in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”
I didn’t have to.
She bristles.
“There you are!” Amelia barrels toward us in her dress and heels, a huge smile on her face. “That was off the charts crazy!”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Sofia replies.
“Who are the naughtiest doggies in Ledonia?” Amelia crouches down to pet the two dogs, who lap up every last spec of affection from her. “Oh, yes. Definitely Lemon and Pepper.” She peers up at us. “Why’s Enzo not here? I would have thought he should have rushed after you to see if you were okay.”
“He’s busy with the guests. Someone needed to stay to calm everyone down,” Sofia replies without looking at me.
Amelia straightens up. “In that case, it’s really nice of you to keep my sister company, Marco.” There’s a definite edge to her voice, echoed in her raised brows.
“It was my pleasure,” I reply with a bow. “I hope the rest of your garden party goes a lot more smoothly.”
“Are you leaving?” Sofia asks, and I hear a note of disappointment in her voice, her features tight.
It takes me by surprise. She doesn’t want me to leave?
“Destruction and unhappy guests. My work here is done,” I joke, but her features remain taut.