Page 67 of Dark Princess Emerging

The afternoon crowd had thinned out, leaving only a few other patrons scattered among the tables—mostly clan members who liked to work there and a couple of Kra-ell hybrids who preferred human food.

From his position, he had a clear view of the glass pavilion about a hundred feet away, where the elevators would bring Morelle up from the underground complex. The structure gleamed in the sunshine, and its modern architecture was in stark contrast to the more traditional styling of the residences in the village.

He'd approved the building plans along with the other council members, so he couldn't complain about the mismatching of styles, but if they ever decided to move somewhere else, he promised himself to pay more attention to what he was putting his signature on.

Before, he hadn't cared because he had not intended to spend much time in the village, but now…

Well, that depended on whether he managed not to blow things with Morelle. If she dumped him, which was starting to seem likely, he would go back to his condo in the city.

Brandon looked down at his untouched cappuccino and the patterns created by the shifting breeze on its surface—he then lifted his head and gazed at the open laptop and the notes about InstaTock displayed on the screen. He'd intended to work on incorporating William's suggestions, but his mind kept circling back to his behavior earlier that day and the damn tantrum he'd thrown.

There was no other word for it. It had been a carefully controlled, outwardly calm tantrum, but a tantrum nonetheless, all because Morelle had wanted to try something he wasn't a fan of.

Brandon ran a hand through his hair, catching his reflection in his darkened tablet screen. The truth was this shouldn't have surprised him. He'd always been this way—controlling, demanding, absolutely certain that his way was the right way.

The only way.

After all, his reputation as a Hollywood shark had been well-earned. He hadn't gotten that nickname by being nice, mellow, and accommodating. He'd earned it by bulldozing over any opposition to his creative vision and being utterly confident that he knew better than anyone else what worked and what didn't.

During Morelle's coma and her initial recovery, his protective instincts had surfaced, overshadowing his other tendencies, so all she had seen was the gentle side of him, the nurturing sidethat he hadn't been aware of having. He'd been focused solely on her well-being and providing whatever she needed.

His usual controlling inclinations had lain dormant.

But now that she was recovering her strength and demonstrating her resilience, she was starting to assert her independence. Well, the shark was swimming back to the surface.

"Asshole," he muttered into his cooling cappuccino, though he supposed the more fashionable term these days was alpha-hole.

Either way, he needed to do better.

Much better.

If he didn't learn to compromise—and fast—he might lose her.

The thought sent a chill through him despite the warm California day. Morelle wasn't some Hollywood executive who could be intimidated into compliance or an actor who could be charmed or coerced into following his vision to the letter. She had her own mind and her own vision of how she wanted to lead her life, and if he tried to stifle her independence and her drive, she might choose to walk away instead of fighting for what she wanted.

"Can I get you anything else?" Marina appeared at his elbow, coffee pot in hand.

"No, thanks." He gestured at his full cup. "Still working on this one."

She gave him a knowing look. "How is Princess Morelle doing?"

"Getting stronger in every way."

"I'm glad to hear that." She moved on to the next table.

Brandon turned his attention back to the glass pavilion, and a movement caught his eye. Morelle emerged from the elevator, her lithe silhouette moving with a sensual sway of her hips. Her stride was growing more confident with each passing day.

When she walked out the pavilion doors, he stood and smiled as she approached his table. "Had a good session?"

"Yes." She stretched, and his mouth went dry at the graceful movement. "Gertrude says I'm making excellent progress."

"You are. Would you like a cup of coffee? Something to eat?"

She chuckled. "We had lunch less than an hour ago. We should head back."

He cleared his throat. "Would you like to stop on the way at my house? It's not far from Annani's."

Her eyes lit up. "Yes, of course, I would."