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they currently shared. But, he didn’t feel like a prince, and these days he didn’t like the idea of his heart overruling his head.
    For a second time.
     
    ****
     
    “Vannie, consider your restaurant choice to be a major win. It’s perfect.”
    Not ashamed of gawking—he was an awestruck, first time visitor to Great Britain after all—Jackson craned his neck, taking in the atmosphere of Kellinger’s. Vanessa’s recommended eatery combined the best of his imaginings when it came to dining out in London. They had just been seated at a window-side table. Frosted glass ornaments in a hue of pale crème were etched by golden swirls and dangled from the ceiling. A tableside window framed the lit spires of Parliament and the towering grandeur of Big Ben, its clock face fully illumined against the dark sky. Through the window Jackson took in a new development—snowfall. Fat, swirling glitter flakes filled the night, dancing to the ground in a carpet of white that soon covered the streets and edged the tiny square window panes. Around them, the air simmered with tantalizing spices and food fragrance.
    “First, I’m delighted by your use of my nickname. Thanks for that. Second? I have to agree. Even as a native, I never get tired of this place. The view alone is second to none, but wait until you taste the food.”
    On cue, their server arrived, taking orders for hot tea along with dual requests for an entrée of Shepard’s pie. Outside, people bustled past, hunched into their coats. A steady wind rippled through the streets. Cars sailed past, as did double-decker busses and black cabs. Inside Kellinger’s, the world was warm and cozy. The roll of low conversations eddied around him. Candles nestled within clear crystal votive holders bathed their table with pale, white light.
    “So.” Vanessa propped her elbows delicately upon the linen draped table and rested her chin against folded hands. Large, clear eyes of green fixed on his and Jackson felt a tremor begin, fine but steady. And it built. “I’ve decided. Officially and everything.”
    He stared at her, puzzled, which made her grin.
    “The night we met you said once I got to know you better I could decide whether or not to learn more about you. Well, just in case my subtle cues have escaped your notice, I think you’re fantastic, and I definitely want to know you better. So. Go on with it, then. Tell me everything.”
    Jackson shifted in the chair and brushed his fingertips through his hair. He rallied reserve as best he could, silently stumbling for a few seconds. Following a pause, he met Vanessa’s gaze squarely. “I believe I also warned you that the topic would be boring.”
    “Highly unlikely. The man who runs a multi-million dollar business operation in the States, who can one moment formulate brilliant computer network operations, and the next moment render an attacker helpless defines himself as boring? I honestly believe you need to reconsider that idea.”
    “Don’t put too much emphasis on that, Vannie.”
    “You impress me. Deal with it.” She accompanied that playful jab with an arched brow and a smile that struck home perfectly. She touched her wine glass to his in salute. “And, once again, I love that you’re becoming comfortable with the use of my nickname.”
    Jackson didn’t allow her interest and praise to gain traction. Instead, he focused on what he knew needed to come next. Revelation. Out of respect for Vanessa, no matter where circumstances led them, he needed to be honest and open.
    “A black belt in martial arts is my way of keeping strong, maintaining mental and physical fitness in a job that’s quite sedentary. It led me to your rescue, and for that, I’m more grateful than I can say. I can’t stand the thought of the way you might have suffered—but beyond that—”
    “Beyond that, nothing else is necessary.”
    Her hand slid across his, resting warm and steady against the table top while candlelight flickered