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One Night with the Forbidden Princess

Page 9

by Amanda Cinelli


  She watched him silently for a moment, wondering if he was actually openly referring to the chemistry between them. ‘Are you really so unable to control a flimsy attraction?’ she asked bravely, shocked at the words coming from her own mouth.

  His eyes widened. ‘I’m a grown man, Olivia. Older than you by almost a decade.’

  ‘I fail to see what age has to do with it.’

  He stepped forward, a dangerous glint in his slate-grey eyes. ‘I’m not a mindless teenager who can be waylaid by a set of curves.’

  ‘Well, then, what’s the problem?’ She shrugged one shoulder, fully committed to her act now, even as her insides quaked. ‘I’m not about to jump your bones, and you’ve made it clear that you are far too mature to do anything quite so...primal.’

  He smiled the kind of smile that screamed danger as he allowed his gaze to take her in slowly from her head down to her bare toes. ‘Primal? Is that what you’d call it?’

  She gulped.

  He noticed.

  Roman took a single step forward, closing the gap between them so that they stood almost toe to toe. ‘I’d like to wager that you’ve never jumped anyone’s bones in your life, Printsessa.’

  ‘I’m not about to divulge that kind of information to you.’ She tried her best to keep up her confident act but he’d rattled her. He knew it too.

  Cursing her lack of practice in these things, she turned as nonchalantly as possible and began walking back towards the villa, hoping she’d simply seem bored or tired.

  ‘I did not mean to offend you.’ His voice drifted from behind her as she began climbing the steep steps. ‘I’m sure you are perfectly capable of jumping my bones.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she breathed, aware that she was barely a quarter of the way up and already feeling winded from the incline.

  She hadn’t eaten nearly enough today to fuel this kind of exertion, and tiny spots had begun to appear at the edges of her vision. She paused, holding on to the rail for a moment as she caught her breath.

  ‘Problem?’ he asked, coming to a stop beside her.

  He was barely even breathing heavily, the great brute.

  She shook her head, not wanting to admit that she had been moping around the villa for most of the day and had refused Jorge’s offers of lunch and dinner.

  Standing up straight, she continued to climb, begging the gods of never-ending stairs to have mercy on her. Eventually she reached the top—and not a moment too soon. She caught one glimpse of the amber lights of the villa before her ears began to pop and her legs started to shake.

  Roman instantly noticed the change in her demeanour. ‘Was the climb really so tough?’ he asked, half mocking.

  She groaned, moving to the grass and half sitting half falling onto her rear end with an unceremonious grunt as the world tilted around her.

  ‘You look as though you are about to be ill.’ He crouched in front of her, the mocking tone completely vanished from his voice. ‘Olivia?’

  ‘I need some water,’ she managed to rasp, looking up at the blurred outline of his face. ‘Just a little light-headed.’

  * * *

  Roman took one look at Olivia’s pale features and cursed under his breath. ‘When did you last eat?’ he asked, a mixture of anger and concern filling him as her eyes darted away from him with embarrassment.

  ‘Just give me a moment to catch my breath.’

  ‘No, you need a damned sandwich and some common sense,’ he gritted. ‘Can you walk?’

  She nodded—far too quickly. Her eyes were still unfocused and her face pale as moonlight. Still, to her stubborn credit she rose to her feet and attempted two whole steps before her legs buckled and she tipped into his waiting arms.

  ‘This is mortifying!’ she groaned, her face mashed against his chest.

  Roman ignored the all too welcome sensation of having her slim figure pressed against him. With a deep breath he lifted her against his shoulder and closed the distance between them and the villa.

  Once inside, he deposited her roughly onto the bench in the kitchen and set about preparing a cold meat sandwich on crusty white bread and a tall glass of ice-cold orange juice.

  She sipped at the juice with gusto, and a hint of colour reappeared in her cheeks after a moment as she nibbled on the crust of the bread.

  ‘You eat like a rabbit,’ he commented, when after five minutes she hadn’t taken more than a series of tiny bites.

  ‘I eat enough.’ She shrugged.

  Roman remained silent. She was watching him closely over the rim of her orange juice glass, but did not speak until the sandwich was completely gone.

  ‘White carbs are my weakness.’ She sighed. ‘You’ve just sent me down a path of total and utter ruination in the eyes of my stylist.’

  ‘I’m sorry its not gluten-free, but true hunger can’t afford to be picky.’

  ‘What would you know of true hunger?’ She raised a brow. ‘You eat enough to feed a small army.’

  ‘I grew accustomed to eating as much as I could fit in once I got out of prison.’ He spoke without thought, and then watched as stark realisation dawned over her delicate features. ‘Old habits, I suppose.’ He shrugged, instantly regretting his words.

  ‘I never thought...’ She let her voice trail off. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re sorry that I was in prison?’ He leaned down, grabbing her plate and turning to deposit it in the sink. ‘Don’t be. I deserved every year I got. Trust me.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry you had to experience hunger like that. I didn’t think when I spoke. I was just being...snarky.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  In all the years that had passed since his time in jail, he couldn’t remember anyone ever commiserating with him over the hardships he must have endured. She didn’t even know why he had been landed there in the first place. She knew nothing of the man he had been. No, he corrected himself, the boy he had been.

  ‘You’re not a bad guy,’ she said quietly.

  Roman looked up, unable to conceal his surprise at her words.

  ‘I mean, obviously I’ve only known you a couple of days...’ She shrugged her shoulders, heat lightly warming her cheeks. ‘But a bad guy wouldn’t have brought me here to begin with. He wouldn’t be making sandwiches at one in the morning to stop me from fainting like a helpless damsel.’

  ‘Don’t paint me as some hero, Olivia.’ He shook his head. ‘You have no idea how far that is from the truth.’

  She made to continue talking, but he’d suddenly had enough. He put a hand up, silencing her. ‘I’ve had a long day, and I’d appreciate it if you considered what I said about obeying my rules tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll consider it.’

  She shrugged, then walked past him into the hallway and began ascending the stairs, effectively robbing him of the chance to walk away first.

  ‘That didn’t sound like a yes.’ He sighed, trying and failing to avoid the delectable sight of her shapely bare calves below the hemline of her dress.

  ‘That’s because it wasn’t one.’

  She disappeared from his view.

  * * *

  Olivia shielded her eyes as her hair whipped around her. The wind was like razor blades at this altitude, but the hour-long hike had definitely been worth it. She braced herself, taking one step out onto the balcony of the lighthouse. Heights had never really been an issue for her, but then again she had never been alone on a ledge in coastal winds before.

  But all fear was forgotten once she stepped out and felt the sun spread across her face, warming her through.

  There was nothing but ocean ahead of her for miles. She turned and caught her breath. She could see the entire island in all its glowing emerald glory. A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she leaned her elbows against the metal railing.

  Th
e villa was little more than a pea-sized white blur from here, partially hidden in the trees far over to the north. Likely Roman was still holed up in his office there, determined to spend as little time in her company as possible.

  She had almost been tempted to go and ask him to show her the lighthouse. She had walked boldly up to his office door and stood poised, ready to knock. But then she had remembered his face as he’d called her Princess. The patronising tone as he had all but called her a child in need of supervision. She had not actually agreed to his terms, so technically she wasn’t breaking any promises.

  The hike had been just what she’d needed to shake off the extra energy that had plagued her all morning. She had made a point of eating a good wholesome breakfast before setting off, not wanting to make the same mistake as she had the night before. Now her thighs burned from exertion and her cheeks were warm and she finally felt as if she was doing something. And the best part of all was that she was entirely alone.

  A harsh male roar caught her by surprise and her hand almost slipped on the railing. She looked down, wide-eyed, and caught sight of Roman powering across the plane at the base of the lighthouse, angry determination in his posture as he stopped and looked up at her.

  He shouted something entirely inaudible, his voice fighting against the noise of the wind and the waves below. Olivia couldn’t help it—she laughed. The smile that erupted on her lips made him scowl even more as he powered ahead once more and disappeared through the door beneath her.

  There were at least three storeys between them, made up of one long winding staircase, and yet it seemed like barely a minute passed before she heard him step out onto the platform behind her.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing up here?’ he growled.

  Olivia turned to look at him over her shoulder. ‘I’m enjoying the view.’

  ‘Oh, of course. Of course you’d have to perch yourself fifty feet in the air. You couldn’t just stand on the deck below like a normal person.’

  ‘The door was unlocked and I’ve never seen the inside of a lighthouse before.’ She shrugged, holding onto the railing to pull herself up. ‘It’s not half as quaint as I’d imagined.’

  She turned to face Roman, seeing his look of cold rage turn quickly to disbelief.

  ‘This isn’t a game, Olivia,’ he said darkly. ‘What if you’d fallen?’

  ‘I’m quite capable of using stairs without supervision.’ She stood tall, wishing he wouldn’t keep looking at her that way. ‘Please, just...stop treating me like a child.’

  ‘Well, then, stop acting like one!’ He raised his voice.

  She sidestepped him, neatly sliding through the doorway and starting down the steps at a rapid pace.

  He followed quickly behind her.

  ‘You are the most reckless, difficult client I have ever had.’ Roman stalked behind her, his voice still holding that dark edge.

  ‘Because I wanted to explore a little?’ She paused, turning to look back at him. ‘This entire island is more secure than the royal vaults. You knew exactly where I was—as evidenced by the fact that you are here.’

  ‘I was at least ten minutes behind you.’

  ‘You are seriously overreacting, and I would like to know why.’

  He met her eyes easily, his height making him tower above her even more than usual. ‘I’m reacting as anyone would if they found the woman they are supposed to be protecting dangling her legs from a fifty-foot balcony.’

  ‘It would hardly be your fault if I fell, would it?’ She shrugged, turning back to continue down the steps. ‘I’m sure your beloved Khal would find a replacement princess eventually.’

  Strong hands encased her shoulders, effectively barring her from moving. Roman moved around her so they stood face to face.

  She was almost completely level with him on the step below. The expression on his face completely took her breath away.

  ‘Do you honestly have a death wish?’ He grasped her shoulders tightly, his eyes blazing with real, deep concern.

  ‘I... No, of course not.’ She turned her face away from him, only for him to turn it right back.

  His fingers were hot and hard against her cheek, and this close she was surrounded by the warm, delicious aroma of him that she had come to recognise so well.

  ‘Your eyes tell me a different story.’

  ‘Isn’t that against the rules? Looking into my eyes?’

  Was that her voice? That husky murmur? She could feel her heart hammering hard and slow in her chest. It was as though the simple act of being near him sent her vitals into chaos.

  ‘I’ve always hated rules.’

  His mouth tightened, and tension spread through his hands and up his arms so that they felt like bands of iron on her shoulders rather than flesh and bone.

  She bit her bottom lip as shivers spread down her arms. Roman’s eyes lowered to take in the movement, his pupils darkening as he pressed his lips together hard. She thought he might kiss her. He certainly looked as though he wanted to.

  But she saw the moment that something changed in his eyes—something that made his mouth harden and his eyes shift away from her once more.

  For one crazy moment she wondered what it might be like to lean across and kiss all that tension from his mouth. To just take a wild leap and not care about the consequences.

  And then all of a sudden she was doing it.

  She closed the gap between them and laid her mouth against his, feeling his shocked intake of breath as their lips connected and her breasts pressed flush against the hard, strong plane of his chest.

  * * *

  He was going to hell.

  There were no two ways about it.

  Roman felt something inside him roar to life the moment Olivia’s lips gently touched his, her feather-light caresses against his mouth almost completely undoing him. His hands found their way to her hair, releasing the clasp that held it wound at the nape of her neck.

  He was letting this happen.

  More than that, he wanted it so badly it made him ache.

  She gave just as good as she got, her hands travelling over his shoulders and down his waist. Sharp fingernails grasped his hips just above his jeans. The sensation sent pulses of heat southwards and he felt himself grow hard against his zip.

  The fleeting thought of stopping the madness came and went quickly as Olivia moved against him, her abdomen in direct contact with his erection. Far from being shocked or appalled, she kissed him even harder.

  Their breath mingled into one frantic cloud of white-hot need. He kissed a trail down her neck, his hands sweeping deftly to the front closures of her blouse. With each satisfying click he was treated to a delicious sliver of creamy soft skin and the smallest glimpse of white lace.

  Her breasts were small and firm, perfectly rounded and straining against the lace fabric of her bra. With one hand he reached behind her, undoing the clasp.

  She exhaled long and slow, biting her lip as he pulled the garment away and lowered his mouth to her breast. Her skin tasted like a smooth ripe peach, the softness unbelievable against his tongue.

  As he drew one peak into his mouth she hissed out a breath. ‘Roman...’ she breathed in awe.

  Her fingers wound through his hair, anchoring him to her as he explored one taut peak and then gave ample attention to the other.

  Their position on the steps made things difficult. It would be so easy to carry her down to the landing below and take her hard and fast on the floor. He could tell she was ready for him by the way she moaned at the slightest touch. She was his for the taking...

  Except, she wasn’t, was she?

  The thought stilled him, stopping his body mid-motion.

  She wasn’t his.

  Roman stepped away from her as though he’d been burned. His breath escaped his nostrils in harsh bursts as
his body screamed in protest. He cursed out loud, his voice echoing in the cavernous space as he realised what he had been doing. What his body was still deeply invested in doing.

  Olivia fell back at an uncomfortable angle, her breasts still bared to him. She looked up, confused and flushed.

  ‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ he breathed, bracing his back against the cold wall and forcing himself to look away from the tantalising curves on display.

  In his peripheral vision he saw Olivia stiffen, her hands quickly moving to cover herself. A prolonged silence ensued as he turned his back and listened while she frantically tried to button up her blouse and calm her breathing. When he finally turned around it was to find her gone—back up the stairs to the top of the lighthouse.

  He followed, stepping out soundlessly onto the narrow balcony alongside her.

  ‘Olivia...’ he began, exhaling on a long sigh.

  ‘Whatever you are about to say, just don’t,’ she said, her voice tight with recrimination and something else—regret, perhaps?

  ‘It won’t happen again, between us,’ he said, almost as though he were trying to convince himself along with her. ‘It was a mistake, bringing you here at all. This just proves what I already knew.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘That you are incapable of controlling your impulses.’

  ‘And you are the most arrogant man I have ever met.’ She turned to face him. ‘Are you actually trying to blame me for this?’ she asked. ‘I may have kissed you first, but at least I’m emotionally mature enough to admit it was because I wanted it.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I wanted it.’ She spoke slowly and deliberately, her eyes blazing emerald in the brightness of the mid-afternoon sun. ‘I wanted to know how it would feel, being kissed by you. To get under that wall of stone you surround yourself with. And I may be unpractised in these things, but I know that you wanted it too.’

  His mind caught on one single word she had uttered. Unpractised. He coughed on the sharp intake of breath that filled his lungs.

 

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