Drunk on him.
On his presence. On his aura. On the irresistible pull that draws me closer to him.
The path veers to the right and starts to climb. The Prince lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head.
“After my accident, they told me I’d never walk again. The thought of spending the rest of my life in a wheelchair nearly killed me. It all comes down to the mind.”
The path narrows, and the Prince lets me walk ahead of him. I can feel his body behind mine, sending pulses of heat coursing through my veins.
Gulping, I try to take a full breath. No one has ever had this effect on me before.
“How did you learn to walk again?” I force myself to ask.
“Sheer determination, luck, and lots of physical therapy.”
The Prince’s hand drifts to my waist, and he nods to a small pathway which intersects the one we’re on. My skin tingles where he touches it through my shirt. My breaths are shallow, but not because of the climb. It’s because of Prince Luca.
I step onto the small pathway, holding a tree branch out of the way for the Prince to step under. His chest brushes mine as he walks across, his eyes meeting mine. There’s a fire burning inside him, and in the silence of the woods, I can hear it crackling.
When his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my cheek, I close my eyes and lean into his touch. Everything he does makes my heart skip a beat. My stomach clenches, and I force myself to glance at the narrow forest pathway.
“Where are we going?”
Prince Luca grins. “Well, ever since I learned to walk again, I’ve made a point to do it every day. I’ve been exploring the royal grounds, and I found this spot just last week. Being in nature, on these paths that would have been unavailable to me. Being here makes me feel alive.”
He turns down the path, jerking his head for me to follow him. A lump forms in my throat as I stare at the Prince’s broad back.
I’ve judged him harshly. I’ve thought of him as nothing but a player, a bad boy, a sleaze. But what if there’s more to him than meets the eye?
Being told you’re paralyzed for life—that must do something to a person.
My eyes drift down to his narrow waist, and over his bum.
“You staring at my ass?” he asks without turning around.
My eyes widen. “No,” I lie.
The Prince chuckles, the sound sending more shivers teasing through my core.
“If you were walking in front of me, I’d be staring at your ass,” the Prince says, glancing over his shoulder. His lips tug into a grin, and the heat of his gaze makes my cheeks burn.
What am I doing here? I should be in the kitchens with George, learning how to make pastries. Instead, I’m being dragged off into the woods by a Prince.
I shake my head to push the thought away. The woods open up and we arrive at a small clearing overlooking Farcliff Lake. The forest stops on a cliff’s edge, and a gentle wind washes over my face. The far shoreline is lined with trees, and the waters of the lake look clear, blue, and cold.
Prince Luca smiles. “It’s places like this that make me feel like myself again. Small enclaves where my feet carry me, away from people and their problems. All we did was walk for ten minutes and look where we are.”
His eyes move to me, and I see a softness in his eyes I haven’t seen before. Then, a flash crosses his face.
“Should we jump?”
“W-What?” I stutter, glancing at the cliff. My stomach surges, and I take a step back. “No.”
Isn’t that how he injured himself in the first place? He went cliff jumping with his brother, Prince Beckett, and Queen Cara, and jumped in a spot where the water was too shallow.
Does he have a death wish?
Prince Luca laughs at the expression on my face.
He cups my cheek. “The only thing that makes me feel more alive than walking is an unbelievable surge of adrenaline.”
Prince Luca grins at me, drops his hand, then takes off sprinting and launches himself off the cliff.
I scream, the sound echoing across the lake as Prince Luca flies through the air. He flips, landing feet-first in the water with a tiny splash that would make Olympic diving judges proud. I stumble to the edge, gasping.
My heart races and I scream again. “Luca!”
The surface of the lake stays dark and utterly prince-less. The wind rustles through the trees, and a songbird calls out behind me. My breaths are short and quick as I scan the water.
Nothing.
“Shit. Shit. Ahh…” I fist my hand into my hair and then tighten my bun, my eyes scanning around me. I left my phone in my bag at the castle. Going to get help and coming back would take at least twenty minutes. There aren’t any boats on the water over here, and not a single soul in sight.
I crawl to the edge, a rock tumbling over the cliff. It lands in the water with a splash, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
The seconds tick by, one by one.
Thump, thump, thump.
All I can hear is the beating of my own heart as panic starts to lace my blood.
He’s dead. Drowned. Broken his back again. He’ll bob up to the surface, face down, and I… What will I do?
My mind spirals deeper and deeper into black panic.
Then, with a crash, Prince Luca breaks the surface. He flicks his head back and a shower of droplets dot the water. His smile is blinding as he glances up at me. His arms spread wide, and his laugh echoes up toward me.
“Come on!” he calls out. “It’s great in here.”
“No fucking way!” I scream.
The Prince laughs, beckoning me with his hand. “Come on, Poison. Live a little!”
Staring down at him, something shifts inside me. Maybe it’s his smile, or it’s the fact that my whole body feels like it’s on fire when he’s around.
Maybe it’s the fact that he lost his ability to walk after a devastating injury, and I just watched him jump off a cliff without hesitation. He stared in the face of his deepest fears, laughing as he punched through them.
Whatever it is, it compels me to stand up. It almost feels like I’m watching myself from above as I take four steps back from the cliff, sucking in a breath to steel my nerves.
Then, I run toward the edge of the cliff.
For the few, short seconds that I fly through the air, I can’t think. My mind is completely clear. It’s clear of the jealousy that has plagued me since I was a kid. It’s clear of fear, and worry, and resentment. It’s clear of desire.
Only when my feet break the surface of the water and the cold shocks my senses, do I yelp. I close my lips at the last moment, sinking into the freezing, inky water of Farcliff Lake.
The cold takes my breath away. I sink down, down, down, opening my eyes underwater to see blackness all around me. With one powerful kick, I propel myself upward. I kick my way to the surface, coming up with a gasp.
Prince Luca is there, and he wraps me in his arms. I lean into his warmth, panting. We swim toward the edge of the water, pulling ourselves up onto a flat rock that’s been warmed by the early summer sun.
The Prince peels his shirt off over his head, revealing a chiseled body and bronzed skin. His physiotherapy must have included hours in the gym during his recovery, and a treacherous part of my brain wonders what it would feel like to run my tongue up between his abdominal muscles, licking the water droplets clean off his skin.
I lay beside him, letting out a sigh and shaking my head.
“Did you enjoy that?” He grins.
“I think so.”
The Prince props himself up on his elbow, angling his body toward mine. I blame the cold water, because I find myself shifting my body closer to his warmth. HIs hand drifts up my soaking-wet shirt to my face, sliding across my jaw.
His touch is soft, yet possessive.
My heart goes boom, boom, boom against my ribs.
“Thank you for jumping with me,” the Prince says, his eyes soft as they drop to my lips.
He grins. His thumb brushes my lower lip, and a delicious shiver tumbles down my spine. It circles in my stomach and teases between my thighs.
I want him. I don’t even know what that means, really, except that I know I want the Prince to kiss me and touch me like I belong to him.
A drop of water falls from his hair onto my cheek, and the Prince wipes it off. The touch makes me shiver, and a sigh slips through my lips.
I reach up to hook my hand around the Prince’s neck, and without even knowing what I’m doing, I pull him down toward me.
The Prince brushes his lips over mine gently, so gently. His breath washes over my skin as my nipples pucker under my wet clothing. Pulsing waves of heat course through my body, and I forget that I was cold a few seconds ago.
Angling my lips up toward his, he pulls away and chuckles. His lips trace my jaw, sending waves of fire coursing through me. Finally, the Prince’s hand slides back to the nape of my neck, and he stares into my eyes.
“Where did you come from, Poison?”
I can’t answer. He’s stolen the words right from my mouth. I gulp, and the Prince’s eyes flick to my lips. Then, without another word, he finally, finally kisses me. The instant his mouth touches mine, liquid heat pours through my veins. I part my lips and accept his kiss, curling my fingers into his wet hair.
A moan slips through my lips and the Prince swallows it down as if it gives him sustenance. He shifts his body over mine, and the weight of him makes my whole body thrum.
Deepening the kiss, the Prince swipes his tongue across my lips and claims them as his own. Fire burns inside me. My cold, wet clothing clings to my body, making me feel like I’m burning even hotter.
The Prince’s hand drifts down to my shirt, and he palms my breast. His thumb runs over my pebbled nipple, feeling it through my drenched clothing. I gasp, nipping at his lips as I try to have more of him.
I need more. I need him.
My body screams for him—his touch, his kiss, his everything.
I thought I’d been kissed before. I thought that those sloppy, drunken embraces in dingy nightclubs counted as kisses.
I was wrong.
Nothing could have prepared me for the electric heat that the Prince delivers to me. Every time his finger brush over an exposed sliver of skin, sparks erupt and goosebumps follow. I arch my back, hooking both arms around his neck as he moans into my mouth.
He tastes like honey and danger. Like adrenaline and sweet sin wrapped into one. I rough my hands through his hair, gasping when he drops his head to my breast. Pulling my shirt down, he takes my hardened nipple between his teeth.
The cold air coming off the lake mixes with the Prince’s hot breath, and my head spins. Sparks tease my thighs, and my legs part of their own volition.
I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want Prince Luca. My hands trace the outline of his muscular shoulders, feeling the cold, wet material of his shirt all the way down to his defined waist.
He brushes his hand over my breast again, bringing his lips up to kiss me once more.
“You taste even better than I expected, Poison,” the Prince whispers.
I shiver, not knowing how to respond. My head is a mess. All I can think about is the molten lava coursing through my veins, the undeniable heat that’s sparking between my thighs, and the deep, pulsing desire that’s starting to overwhelm me.
I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never been with anyone—let alone someone like Prince Luca.
I’ve never felt ready to give myself to anyone…
…until now.
12
Luca
Ivy’s skin tastes like magic and cinnamon and sweet, forbidden fruit all swirled into one. I claim her lips again. I can’t get enough of them. That lush bottom lip that she’s been teasing me with is finally between my own.
My cock is hard as a rock, pressed up against her leg as she grinds her hips toward me.
Then, as soon as it started, it’s over.
The sound of someone calling out above us makes Ivy freeze, and she scrambles away from me. She pulls her shirt up over her exposed breast, glancing up to see the source of the voice.
I lay back on the rock, panting. My heart races in my chest, doing its best to break free from its cage. Turning my head to glance at Ivy, I see her smoothing her hands over her head.
“I should get back,” she says. Her cheeks flush when she meets my eye, and then she touches her shirt. It’s still dripping wet from our dip in Farcliff Lake, her nipples calling out to me through the sopping fabric.
Ivy shakes her head. “How am I going to explain this?”
“You could tell the truth.”
She gives me a sideways glance and shakes her head. “I’m sure that would go over well. I already got a stern talking to from my sister’s agent about you. I’m not supposed to go anywhere near you.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Is that right?” I grin. “Yet, here you are.”
Ivy doesn’t answer. Instead, she just lets out a dry chuckle and shakes her head. She glances up at the sun, as if she’s trying to determine what time it is.
“I probably do have to go, though. I’m supposed to go to some stupid yacht party with my sister, because apparently she’s incapable of doing things on her own.” Ivy gulps, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sounds like it is what you meant,” I say, standing up with her. “I’m going to that stupid yacht party, too, so at least you have that to look forward to.”
Ivy’s cheeks burn brighter, and she shakes her head. “I can’t. If anyone knew about this”—she moves her finger between her and me—“I’d be dead. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
I fight a smile. “No?”
My hand goes to her hip, and I pull Ivy close. She lands against my chest, her hands splaying against my wet shirt. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhales deeply and shakes her head.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“But you are.”
I brush my lips against Ivy’s, tasting them one last time before we head back. The walk back to the castle is slightly shorter from the bottom of the cliff, and before we clear the trees, I hang back.
“I’ll give you a five-minute head start. You know—for your reputation.”
Ivy laughs, nodding. “That’s very kind of you. It still doesn’t explain why I’m soaked.”
“Say you tripped and landed in the pool.”
“On my way to the dumpsters?”
I shrug. “You got any better ideas?”
Ivy’s eyes flash. “We have to pretend this never happened, or else I’ll be in big trouble. I mean it, Your Highness.”
“I don’t think I’d be able to pretend it never happened even if I tried.”
Ivy lets out a breath, staring at me for a long moment. She sucks that lip between her teeth and worries at it, and another wave of desire threatens to overwhelm me. Then, she sets off toward the castle. The floury handprints on her ass have been washed off, but it doesn’t stop me staring as she walks away.
It’s only when I get back to my chambers that I realize that I haven’t had to take a painkiller all morning. Even after jumping into the water and crashing into its icy depths at top speed, I haven’t needed to dull anything.
I pop a painkiller into my mouth out of habit more than anything, knowing that the reason I haven’t needed any was because I was with Ivy.
When Beckett and I make it to the pier for the yacht party, I can already see some paparazzi sneaking around the marina. I don’t know why they bother hiding. It’s obvious they were called here on purpose. This is a photo op. It’s all arranged.
Our bodyguards whisk Beckett and me toward the massive yacht. When we get near the boat, I hear excited shouts behind me.
A limousine pulls up, and Margot emerges. Her hair is gleaming in the sun, and her thin sundress leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s wearing oversized su
nglasses, but she still manages to smile and wave at the cameras. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Does she actually enjoy this? The cameras, the attention, the lack of privacy?
Beckett lets out a sigh behind me. “Damn…”
I glance at my brother, and he clamps his mouth shut, turning his eyes away from my supposed girlfriend. I look back at her as she struts down the pier.
The way the paparazzi clamor for her makes me want to retch. When I see her wave for the cameras, I understand why Ivy was so hesitant to be seen with me. She knows that anything she does could be blown completely out of proportion.
I know that already. That’s the reality I’ve been living, too. I’m the prodigal son who learned to walk again, returning to spread my message of hope to the masses. I’m the miracle boy, healed from his cliff dive. The man who would never walk again, walking.
If I act like anything less than a hero, I get torn apart by the media.
But I’m used to it. Ivy’s not. She still lives her life in the semi-unknown. She’s adjacent to fame, but she’s doesn’t feel the direct heat of the spotlight.
A small part of me wants to respect that. I want to shield Ivy from it all, and let her keep that pure, innocent spirit that she has. Would she have jumped off that cliff if she was worried about cameramen hiding in the bushes?
Maybe not.
Behind Margot, Ivy emerges from the limo. No one snaps a photo of her. No one even seems to notice her.
But I do.
Ripped jeans. White t-shirt. Baseball cap. Sexy, angry scowl. She looks exactly how I feel.
My heart thumps, and all the blood rushes between my legs. The two sisters walk up toward us. Margot hands her purse to her sister before slipping her hand in mine. She reaches her head up to kiss my cheek, and I glance over her shoulder at Ivy.
The dark-haired girl glowers. Her eyes shoot flames at me, and I grin.
Is she jealous that I’m holding Margot’s hand, or is she just scared that I’ll say something about our kiss?
“You look great,” I say to Margot, leading her up the gangway to the yacht’s exterior deck. I can hear the paparazzi shuffling behind us, rushing to get into boats that will follow us out onto Farcliff Lake. Beckett hovers, saying an awkward hello to my date.
Knocked Up by the Broken Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 7
