“Why don’t you want to run the family business?” she asked after she’d eaten her fill, leaning back in her chair. “Especially when it keeps you flush in penthouse suites and hot dogs.”
“I think to truly want something, you have to be given a choice—an opportunity to know it’s what you desire. The choice has never been mine.” I twisted the wine glass stem in my fingers, watching the soft lighting play over her smooth complexion and dance in her eyes.
“The money? The perks? The Oliver?” she asked. There was no greed in her eyes, no calculation, just genuine interest.
“I’ve never not had the money, but I know I could be happy with a lot less. The perks can be pretty fantastic, but they come at a price. And sometimes Oliver is that price. You give up your privacy for security and your choices for the good of...the family. And I had a career I loved before I was called home.”
“And what was that? Batman?”
“I’m a human rights lawyer by trade.”
Her eyes flew wide. “So, Batman. You’re basically Batman. Could you be any more perfect?”
“I’m hardly perfect. And what about you? Are your parents proud of their author?”
She blushed prettily, her gaze falling away from mine. “Yeah, they’re proud. Mom likes to haul my books to the local elementary schools. I know they wish I’d move closer, but once you get that taste of freedom, of being on your own, it’s hard to go back. Even when I go home for the holidays, I can only hack it a week before I’m desperate to get out of there and get back to where the only expectations I have are my own. I don’t do other people’s rules very well.”
She studied me for a moment before she pushed back from the table and walked around to my side. With those simple movements, the air between us charged to a palpable level of electricity.
I watched her every move, my eyes drawn to the movement of her hips, the sway of her breasts beneath her plunging neckline. She motioned, and I moved back my chair just in time for her to straddle me.
My hands flew to her hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh. God, she felt good. Her curves were perfectly proportioned, and I knew without a doubt that she would feel like heaven under me, surrounding me.
Her arms looped around my neck, her eyes locked onto mine in a gaze more intimate than our current position—which was about to get a hell of a lot more uncomfortable really soon if she didn’t get that perfect ass off my lap.
“Willa?” I asked softly. I hadn’t brought her here to fuck her. Not that I was going to object if that was the way the night went. I wasn’t Jameson. I didn’t use my title to get laid, but I also never took a woman to bed who didn’t know who I was.
“Xander,” she whispered. Her hands threaded through my hair. “That’s better.”
“What’s better?” Her thighs shifted, her dress riding up, and it was definitely not better. I was getting harder by the second.
“You always look like you’re carrying the weight of the world.” She kissed my cheek. The tender gesture hit me right in the chest. “Especially when I ask you about your family, like right now.”
“Maybe not the world—”
She placed her finger over my lips, and I quieted.
“But when you kissed me, I felt that weight lift, your concentration shift.”
A corner of my mouth drifted up. “You do tend to consume my attention.” It was impossible to have her near, let alone this near and not get distracted by her.
“Good,” she said softly.
Her mouth met mine with a frenzy that I answered in full. I gave her control for a few seconds until I felt her tongue slide along mine. Then playtime was over.
I threaded my fingers through her hair and slanted her head so I could kiss her deeper. She moaned in my mouth, and the erection in my pants was no longer a thought, but a full-blown demand. The kiss was hot, openly carnal, a combination of teeth and tongue, lips and sighs.
Her hips rocked over mine, and then I was the one groaning, one of my hands sliding down her curves until I had a firm grasp on her ass. I moved my mouth along her jaw to the tender skin of her neck. She whimpered when I sucked on the spot that met her collarbone, and her hands tightened in my hair.
There was no logic here. No reason. There was only Willa, and the insane chemistry we had together.
And she has no clue who she’s really dealing with.
I clung to the thought as I leaned back, putting a little distance between us. “Willa, stop,” I forced out, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her eyes were hazy, her lips swollen from my kiss, and I’d never seen her more beautiful—or more fuckable.
“Nothing. I just think there are things you should know about me—”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and smiled in a way that was going to land her in my bed before I could say another damn word.
“Willa.”
“Are you a mobster?” she asked, flicking open the first button of my shirt.
“No.” But I do run an entire economy.
“Are you a criminal?”
“No.” Unless you listen to the Anti-Monarchists in Elleston.
“A murderer?”
“No.” They kept me far from the front line.
She picked up my hands and put them on her waist. “Then touch now. Talk later.”
Without breaking her gaze, I stood, lifting her against me. I balanced her weight with one hand under ass, as the other swept the dishes down the length of the table. I set her on polished wood and groaned at the sight of her soft thighs as the hem of her dress gave up the battle and headed for her waist.
I kissed her, melding our mouths until we were both gasping for air. Then I unzipped the back of her dress while my lips kissed a path to her neckline, and then the lacy cups of her bra as her dress fell open.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I said in reverence as I cupped the round globes of her breasts.
“More,” she instructed, arching into my hands.
In a world where I gave all the orders, I found myself willing to do anything she asked—just to please her. But touching her, damn if that didn’t please me more.
I peeled the lace of one cup down to reveal the pearled, pink tip of her nipple and nearly groaned. Of course she’d be exquisite. Everything about this woman was designed to tempt and tease me, almost as if I’d conjured her from a fantasy.
I had to taste her.
My hand slid up her thigh as my lips surrounded her nipple and licked the puckered flesh. My tongue swept and laved as her hands held me to her, her moans urging me on. Her thigh was so soft, supple, and I nearly bucked against the table when my thumb swept upward and over a very lacy, very wet, very small thong.
“Fuck, Willa.”
“Yes, please.” Her breath caught on that last word as her body rocked against me.
This was insane. Out of control. Reckless. And fucking flawless.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Ignore it,” she plead.
“I can’t,” I said, cursing every ounce of royal blood that sang through my veins. It could only be one person, and Oliver would only be here if it was urgent. I pulled the straps of her dress up and zipped her back. “Come in,” I called out.
Oliver stepped in and immediately turned around to face the door.
Not that I blamed him. If I walked in on a man with an hard-on this size I’d give him a little privacy too.
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir, but there’s a situation you need to be briefed on.”
“My family?” I asked, my throat closing a little. They hadn’t checked in from LA yet, and Brie and Sophie were both still in Europe.
“No, Sir, they’re still enroute to LA. It’s at home. Anti-Monarchists.”
“Fuck.” I seethed. “Sophie?”
“Secured.”
Relief washed over me. Brie was still in Monaco with whatever model she’d
chosen for the week.
“If I could turn on the television, Sir?”
“Go ahead.”
As Oliver headed to the living room—no doubt to bring up the news—I took Willa’s shocked face in my hands.
“Why would you need to know about Anti-Monarchists?”
“That was what I wanted to tell you. My full name is Alexander Wyndham.”
“Wyndham…” her eyes widened. “As in…”
“As in Crown Prince Alexander Gabriel Edward Wyndham the Fourth of Elleston.”
“You’re a prince.” If her eyes got any bigger, they might fall out. But there was no calculation there, no immediate assessment or speculation. Just pure shock.
“I am a prince.”
“Like a royal prince.”
“Is there any other kind?”
“I can think of musicians, anatomical piercings…”
I stroked my thumbs over her cheek, relishing the blush I’d brought to her cheeks a few minutes ago. “I’m the royal kind of prince.”
She swallowed, her eyes darting to where Oliver changed the channel to the world news. “You’re a prince. And I’m ...I’m a peasant.”
I laughed before I saw how deadly serious she was. Then I quickly schooled my features. “We don’t call people peasants anymore, Willa. We haven’t in a couple hundred years. The feudal system is out.”
She arched an eyebrow at me, thank God. My fiery American was coming out of her shock. “Fine then. A commoner.”
I leaned forward and kissed her softly, letting my lips linger without pressure. “You are anything but common.”
She sighed against my mouth, and I nearly swept in for another kiss before Oliver called over to me. “Found it.”
“Great,” I muttered. I searched the bluest eyes I’d ever seen and smiled. “I will answer every single question you could possibly have, but right now I need to see what it is they’re trying to destroy this time.”
Probably me, as usual.
“Can I come watch, too?” she asked. “Or do you need to do this alone?”
It was just the news, nothing she couldn’t see if she googled it. The briefings that would inevitably begin in a few hours were a different story.
“Please,” I said, helping her off the table. She held out her hand, and at the contact, my shoulders dropped a little, just the barest hint of relaxation, but it was enough.
Until I saw what had happened. There were Anti-Monarchist demonstrations in our capital city of Rhyston, and given what the news was showing, the Anti-Monarchists were no longer just a political threat. They were a physical one.
“Xander,” Willa whispered.
“It will be okay,” I told her, pressing a kiss to her temple before I reached for a phone.
For the first time, I headed toward a situation I’d need to eventually handle alone, but I didn’t feel alone. I had Willa.
Willa
He’s a prince. Not a billionaire, a prince.
Wait, he was both, I guessed.
I sat next to him in the living room of the penthouse suite, only a small portion of me watching the news report on the flatscreen. The rest of me, as if my heart had eyes too, watched Xander. Prince Alexander of Elleston as he soaked in the knowledge coming from the television.
The sound of his proper, formal name rang through the speakers, and something twisted in the center of my chest as I watched the tension in his shoulders return. I sighed. My earlier moves to ease that strain in him had vanished.
And now, knowing who he was…I better understood the weight that kept him rod straight as if always bracing for impact. But also, now that I knew who he was…I didn’t understand, couldn’t even begin to comprehend the stress he endured on a daily basis. No longer the CEO billionaire type I’d pegged him for, he actually had people. People who depended on him, needed him, needed his family and his ruling and…
My head spun, the thoughts weaving a story closer to a fictional tale I’d write than reality. And right alongside the fantasy, fear fueled every beat of my heart.
I’m no princess.
And I never would be.
He’s only here for a couple weeks.
I’d known that and committed myself to the fun anyway.
Who would I be if I abandoned my original mission to show him a good time, to help him unwind from the strains of his position—which I now knew were more severe than ever. I would be a total bitch. It would be worse than staying with him in the hopes of living out some fairytale fantasy most only dream of.
No. I liked Xander. He made me laugh, and I loved shocking him, surprising him. And his kiss…well, there was nothing to compare it to. The man kissed like he commanded legions, armies. He definitely commanded me. It went straight to my heart, my core, and then traveled between my thighs, making the loop on repeat until I’d wanted to take him at the table even though there were hot dogs present. The memory of his hard length pressed against me sent shivers down my spine, but the sight of him cooled the hot memory.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his coffee-brown eyes rich, deep, and narrowing at the screen.
The tension pulsed off his body and hit mine—beat after beat of a responsibility so great I could spend an entire lifetime trying to understand it and never get close.
Hell, I whined when my publisher placed my deadlines too close together. How could he be so fun and flirty and fantastic when an entire country relied on him? And his family as well?
“Some residents aren’t sure that the crown prince will be able to fill the shoes his father left behind…”
I cut my eyes to the screen for only a moment to glare at the faceless reporter who said such things. Not that I knew anything about being royalty, but I knew Xander. Well, I knew who he’d been with me these past few days, and he was more than enough.
Darkness flashed in the flecks of gold in his eyes, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. I both did and didn’t want to distract him from the reports, but bad reviews sucked, and while mine were nowhere near as important as his, I wanted to soothe the sting. I reached up, trailing my fingers over his cheek, enjoying the tickle of the light stubble there. A breath released from his broad chest like he’d been holding it, and he blinked before giving a nod to Oliver who quickly turned off the television.
“Do you need me to contact your mother?” Oliver asked, hands behind his back.
Xander shook his head. “All of the calls I needed to make are complete. The police have it in hand—these reports are hours old. I’ll call her in the morning.”
Oliver nodded and took his cue to leave again. The sound the door made when it latched was so much heavier than it had been the first time I walked inside, not even an hour ago.
Everything had changed, and yet, nothing had.
I was still Willa, and he was still Xander.
Prince.
It didn’t matter. I’d gone into this knowing he was going to leave. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hold on to a man like Xander—he was too important, burning brighter than a star whose tail flashed across an inky sky. I’d be lucky to get a taste of that brilliance, let alone show him a thing or two about my wildness, too. Something I’m sure he’d craved and was in desperate need of before he had to return to a life of…obligated privilege.
“No wonder,” I said, the realization hitting hard and true in my mind.
“What?” He said, his eyes tense, his entire body coiled as if he expected me to run out the door, agreeing with the garbage the reporter had spewed.
My lips shaped into a slow, wicked grin, and I relished the curiosity in his eyes that edged in panic. “No wonder you came looking for me.”
A rumbling laugh rushed out of him, and it soothed the knot between my shoulder blades that had formed since he’d uttered the word prince.
I can do this.
I could be myself and treat him like I would have if I’d never found out who he was—not that I believed for a second he would’ve taken it further
without telling me. He was too good a man for that, and I suddenly wondered if he even knew just how good he was? With the way he’d let every jab hit him from the TV, I doubted it.
The depth in his eyes lightened with his laughter, but it wasn’t enough. The weight was still there, and even though I knew one technique would be a sure-fire way to get him to loosen up, I knew tonight wasn’t the night to unhinge the passion pulsing in my blood. He didn’t need a good roll in the sheets right now—though the images of such a thing made me slick between the thighs. No, he needed a friend. He needed fun. He needed distraction.
“Willa,” he said, shifting to face me, his knee brushing mine. Delicious waves of heat curled up my core when he said my name, and it had me rethinking the friendly plan I’d concocted. “I want you to know that I was going to tell you before we…” he swallowed hard. “Before anything happened further between us.”
I grinned, snorting. “I know that.”
He cocked a brow at me. “Do you?”
I nodded. “You’re a good man, Xander. And besides, I was kissing you without demanding to know your deepest darkest secrets. You aren’t in trouble.”
Another deep sigh, one long and hard enough to lower his stiff shoulders just a tad.
“Well,” he said, placing a hand on my knee, and though the touch was innocent, it sent sparks shooting across my skin. “Then I need to be honest with you…”
My throat closed up, choking on the easy air between us. He was going to dismiss me before I had a chance to help him. Before I had a chance to unravel him. He wasn’t even going to give me these two weeks—or whatever he had left in the states.
“We spoke before about the woman my family wants me to marry.”
“Ah,” I said, slightly relieved and irked at the same time. I told myself to calm the eff down, as I’d just been schooling myself on the fling this would be. Nothing more. “You said that she looked at you as more of a brother than a lover. And vice versa.”
“That is true.” He nodded. “Though, I changed the wording a bit.”
“Oh?” It was my turn to arch a brow at him. “I do that all the time. Artistic liberties and all that.”
The Crown: A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance Page 6
