This guy was something else. What a jerk.
“Liar.” She glared at his hand on her arm, trying to pull free because his skin was touching hers, and her pulse was racing, and she didn’t know whether to kiss him, hit him, or kill him. Maybe all three. “Let go of me.”
He stiffened, anger making his nostrils flare, and he didn’t let go. If anything, he moved closer, his body heat taking over her breathing space mercilessly. “I am not a liar.”
“Yet you say you never wrote me, and I never wrote you?” she asked, letting out a laugh. “I don’t know what else to call it, then.”
“Nothing. Call it nothing.” He tightened his grip on her before releasing his fingers. “Or, better yet, call it the truth.”
“I wrote to you, and you wrote back.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but that didn’t happen.”
Stepping away from him and his magnetic pull, she lifted her chin, refusing to even entertain the idea he was telling the truth. Even if, against all odds, he was and he’d never written those horrible letters…he still broke a promise. And he still couldn’t be trusted. “Whatever.”
“Why would I lie about writing letters?” he said slowly, still acting lost.
“It doesn’t matter. None of this does.” She dug her nails into her palms, breathing fast. “Just let me go.”
“I can’t—”
“Yeah. So you said.” She tapped her foot. “Why not?”
“Because we had sex,” he said pragmatically. “As a prince, I have to be sure there wasn’t a child made in the process, so you have to stay here with me, until we find out for certain.”
She choked on nothing at all, coughing and gasping for air. He sighed and studied his nails, clearly unconcerned for her welfare. By the time she pulled herself together, he leaned against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. As she rubbed her face and let out a nervous laugh, he cocked a brow. “Are you finished, then?”
“You can’t be serious about this,” she croaked, her throat aching. “We used a condom. There is no secret baby.”
“Unfortunately, I am.” He stared at her, not smirking, yet somehow still appearing to have done so. “I don’t joke often.”
“You’re keeping me hostage until I get my period? Seriously?”
For the first time since he walked in the room, his cheeks flushed, and readjusted his stance against the wall. “Yes.”
“That’s…that’s…” Barbaric. Stupid. Ludicrous. “Illegal.”
He rubbed his chin and stared at her, somehow making her insides melt without even trying to. So not fair. “Actually, when it comes to the possibility of royal offspring, I have every right, by Randovian law, to detain you until we’re sure. And since you’re not Randovian, we thought it would be best to have you stay here, with me.”
“God.” She reared back, staring at him. “What happened to you?”
His brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“What made you so…so cold?” she asked slowly.
“I’m not cold. I’m fairly certain I showed you that last night.” He pushed off the wall and stalked toward her. She swallowed hard. He didn’t stop until she was in his arms and his skin was burning into her like a roaring fire on a cold night. He gripped her hip, holding her in place as he lowered his mouth to her ear to murmur, “When I touched you, made you come, I wasn’t cold. When you screamed, your body tensing around mine as I was buried inside you, that wasn’t cold. It was fucking hot, and we both know it.”
She pressed her mouth into a thin line, trying her best to focus on her anger instead of the blazing hunger he brought out in her with his hand on her hip and his hot breath in her ear. “And now you’re abducting me to make sure I’m not pregnant with your baby.” She pressed a hand to his chest, keeping him at a safer distance. “Do you realize how crazy this is?”
“Not just any baby.” His nostrils flared. “The future ruler of Randovia.”
Her belly clenched, her face heating at the idea of his baby inside her belly.
No. So wrong. So very wrong. And still…
“Like I said, we used protection. There won’t be a baby.”
“And you’ll be free to go, once that’s certain.” He ran his knuckles over her cheek. She flinched away, so he dropped his hand to his side, fisting it, and stepped back, finally letting her breathe. “Until then, you stay.”
“Or, instead, I could text you or call you when I get my period.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll let you know when a baby is out of the equation.”
“I’m sure you would, but there have been times where women have lied, so it’s become custom to play it safe. That way there are no little princes or princesses running around unaware of their heritage.” He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “We simply can’t risk it. It’s a law in my country.”
“So, what, every time you sleep with a woman, you kidnap her?”
He laughed, but it didn’t sound like humor at all. More like a rehearsed imitation of the real thing. “Most women consider it an honor to receive an invitation to stay at the palace. But for the record, I don’t make it a habit to sleep around, for this very reason. If I have sex, it’s with a woman who fully understands the situation, and what comes after. Last night was…special, in more ways than one. When I saw you, I broke my rules.”
“Yay. Lucky me,” she said.
He sighed again. “I understand your frustration, but—”
“I don’t think you do.” She uncrossed her arms and poked him in the chest again. Prince or not, she wasn’t going to tiptoe around him. And if he didn’t like that? Well, he could let her go. “You live in your pretty little castle.” Another poke. “Wearing your pretty little suits.” Again. “And wave your pretty little hand to order me abducted out of a coffee shop before I could so much as finish my croissant.”
He caught her wrist, his grip firm. “Would you like another croissant brought to you, my lady?”
“What? No.” She growled in her throat. “That’s not the point.”
“I know.” He cocked a brow again, not even a hint of anger, embarrassment, amusement—heck, anything even remotely resembling emotion—crossing his face. “That was my attempt at a joke.”
She wrenched free. “Well, I see why you don’t do it often, then.”
He let out another laugh. “Touché.”
She glared at him, not speaking.
“Is it so bad to spend a few nights in my castle?” He reached out as if to touch her again, then pulled back. “I, for one, would like to get to know you again. I’ve always regretted not staying in touch with you.”
If he’d taken literally any other approach to this…and if he hadn’t broken her heart and his trust like he had…maybe she would have liked that, too. But instead, he took what he wanted without asking for it. Instead, he played with the emotions of the people around him, like a puppet master and his marionette.
“I know all I need to know about you,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I have no regrets over how you acted after you left New York. It showed me your true character.” Brushing past him, she yanked the door open. Sure enough, there was a guard standing there, waiting for her escape. It was the same man who had ridden in the car with her on the way here. “Please show me to my room.”
The man glanced over her shoulder, presumably at Leo, and then nodded.
She gritted her teeth.
Leo came up behind her and gripped her elbow. “Alicia—”
“Let go of me.” She snatched her arm back. “And go to hell while you’re at it.”
Everyone around them gasped.
A guard stepped forward, but Leo held up a hand, halting him immediately. Jaw clenched, he bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”
And then he shut the door in her face.
Chapter Seven
Three days.
Three long, agonizing, slow, torturous days.
That was how long Alicia had been in his
home.
Once, zero, zilch, nada.
That’s how many times he’d seen her since her arrival.
Every day he sent her an invitation to join him for supper. Every day the servant he sent returned with downcast eyes and a whispered refusal. He got it. He was an asshole for detaining her. He deserved every ounce of her anger and her hatred and whatever else she wanted to throw at him, but he’d expected her to actually give it to him.
Not hide in her room for her whole stay.
That wasn’t supposed to be her style—and it sure as hell wasn’t his.
He was a man of actions, not words, and not being able to communicate with her, or even see her, certainly wasn’t helping his cause…or his guilt over this whole situation.
He’d done enough thinking to last a damn lifetime.
It was time for some fucking action.
He lowered his fist, glowering at the door.
For two minutes now, he’d been standing outside her bedroom, trying to think of the perfect thing to say when that door swung open, but the words wouldn’t come. As the prince, he had to know how to sway the conversation his way with his eyes closed, half asleep, while handcuffed. He could win any argument, anywhere.
It was his job.
But with Alicia, he managed to mess up every single encounter.
Ever since he delivered her suitcases to her room, Harry kept making snide remarks about her hiding out, saying the castle was better off without her roaming around Americanizing everything, but the truth was the country could use a little bit of Americanizing. Harry was just too much of a disapproving snob to see it, and Leo had already started searching for a new aide.
He didn’t need that condescending shit in his office.
Lifting his fist again, he knocked on the door three times. She was here, and he wanted to spend time with her. If that made him an asshole, so be it. He was a fucking prince. He preferred to face his problems, no matter how rough they might be, head on.
Alicia was the most beautiful problem he’d ever had.
The guard he’d sent away earlier came around the corner, saw him still standing there and backed up slowly at the same time as the door swung open.
“Please tell him I’m not interested in his stupid dinn—” The second she saw who stood outside, she cut herself off. “Go away.”
“I—” He barely caught a glimpse of her long hair and bright blue eyes, which was apparently enough to made his blood heat and his heart pound, before the door almost swung shut again. He slid his foot inside it at the last second, barely stopping her from locking him out. She slammed into the door with the force she’d been using to close it, her held breath escaping her in a soft whoosh of air, and pain shot up his calf. “Jesus, Alicia.”
The guard came running toward him, and he scowled at the man.
He immediately stopped, backing off again.
She narrowed her eyes. “Wow. It must be nice to have the power to stop a man in his tracks with nothing more than a magical stare.”
“It would be nicer if my ‘magical stare’ worked on you, too. Or, better yet, my kisses. As I recall, they worked pretty damn well at the club.” He leaned on the doorjamb, sliding his foot inside a bit more. Her cheeks flushed as she sucked in a breath, staring at his mouth before forcing her attention back to his eyes. If nothing else, it was obvious that despite her hatred for him, she still desired him—and he couldn’t stop the surge of satisfaction that punched him in the chest at that knowledge. “Maybe we could try again?”
“I’d rather kiss my own foot,” she said with a cold smile.
Amusement warred with frustration in his gut. It was beginning to become a feeling he associated with Alicia. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be with her—he had to get to the bottom of why she thought he was a liar. It had been eating at him for three days, keeping him up at night as he lay alone in his bed. This had to stop. “You can’t stay in there forever.”
“No, but I can stay in here until I’m permitted to leave.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “And, for the record, we have no reason to spend time together.”
He raised a brow. “I disagree. You may be in denial, but I see how your body reacts to me.”
“You’re welcome to fool yourself into thinking that, if that’s what you’d like.”
“Let me in, and I’ll show you just how wrong you are,” he said, his tone low. “Several times.”
She bit down on her lip, her breath quickening. “No, thank you.”
It took all his control not to reach through the door, curl his hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her until she stopped hating him long enough to listen.
She wore blue jeans, a gray tank top, and flip-flops. She was the epitome of the all-American girl he’d fallen for years ago, but she was grown up now. All woman. And she was fucking killing him.
His gaze dipped over her soft curves, lingering over the way the soft cotton shirt played with the natural slope of her breasts. It was long and loose, but there was no erasing the fact that her hips fit all too perfectly in his hands. He’d learned that firsthand.
It was something he’d never forget…
No matter how easily she could.
She cleared her throat, cheeks red, and tugged on her shirt as if that would hide her body from him. It wouldn’t work. Nothing would. The way her body felt pressed against his was ingrained in his memory, and it haunted him every night when he laid in bed alone with nothing but his own hand to keep him company. It was a poor substitute for her warm body, which he’d also learned firsthand…no pun intended.
“Stop,” she demanded, pressing her palm to her stomach and taking a deep breath.
“Stop what?” he asked immediately.
“Stop looking at me like you’ve seen me naked,” she finished, biting down on her lower lip.
He smirked, taking in her slim form again. This time he did it deliberately. He lingered over his favorite parts, taking his time. An answering desire darkened her eyes, and she leaned in closer, as if she felt the invisible pull between them that he’d been feeling since the moment she walked into that club.
Hell, scratch that.
He’d felt it back in New York.
“I don’t care how much I still want to jump your bones, I’m not going to—” she broke off, her cheeks instantly turning red. “Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud?”
Satisfaction coiled in his gut, and he leaned in, his chest rising and falling rapidly because she’d just admitted to wanting him. And if she still felt it, too…
It was time to stop playing quite so nicely.
“I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just hungry, for food, so I want to jump your bones…for food…not sex.” She stopped talking, shaking her head. “Yeah. No. That didn’t make it any better.”
He rubbed his jaw, hiding his smile. “Nope.”
“Just go away.” She pushed the door on his foot again, but he didn’t budge.
“You know what the sad part about that is?” he asked, dropping his voice even lower than before.
She licked her lips. “What?”
“I haven’t seen you naked in a long time—but damn, you have no idea how badly I wish I had. I haven’t able to get you out of my head the last three days.” Reaching through the door, he skimmed his knuckles over her shoulder, next to the strap of her tank top, dipping down her arm gently. “If you’d let me, I’d touch you, caress you, kiss you, taste you. Everywhere. But this time, I’d go slowly. Cherish every inch of you intimately, as I should have the first time we were together, until you’re crying and begging me to make it stop. And I will. Make it stop. I promise.”
She sucked in a breath, cheeks pink, and reared back. “Stop saying those things. Someone will hear you.”
“Then let me in, so I can say them in the privacy of your room. Because I won’t stop.” His heart pounded harder at the need he saw burning inside her. “I will never force myself on you, or coerce you in any way, but
you can be damned sure I’ll use every fucking chance I have to let you know how badly I want you. Once wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.”
Letting out a small laugh, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and whistled through her teeth. She put on a good show, trying to pretend his words didn’t affect her, but he could see the truth of it in the way she stood, and the way she avoided his gaze, and her quickened breaths. “You’re ridiculous. And just so you know, that…what you just mentioned…was a one-time deal. Never happening again. But you can’t stand out in the hall talking dirty. It’s weird.”
“If you say so.” He gripped the doorjamb. “We had so much fun when we were kids. I’d like a second chance to show you that we can, at the very least, be friends.”
That wasn’t what he wanted. No, his head was filled with thoughts of her in his bed, writhing beneath him. But he wouldn’t push. It was enough just to spend time with her…
For now.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “I don’t particularly like the man you’ve become, and I choose instead to remember the boy I knew…before you left New York.”
She hit an arrow straight to the heart with that. What did she think he’d done?
Frustration at her attitude warred with his desire to make her see he wasn’t this monster that she made him out to be. He was just a guy who made a few stupid mistakes as a kid. “You liked me in that hallway, before you found out who I was. You liked it when I fucked you against that wall, hard and—”
“Oh my God, shut up.”
He nodded once. “Okay. But can you at least try to put yourself in my shoes?” he asked quietly. “I told you, I don’t sleep around, and it’s for this very reason. I don’t enjoy detaining a woman to make sure that the condom I’ve been carrying inside my wallet for three years did its job. And—”
She pressed a hand to her stomach, looking a little green around the face. “Three years?”
The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales) Page 5
