by Ember Casey
“I…” She swallows. “I…I don’t.” She opens her eyes. “I don’t.”
We both know she’s lying—after all, I was there last night. But if she wants to play this game, I’ll indulge her.
“Hm. And you feel nothing when I do this?” I set her hand down to touch her bare shoulder, tracing the line of the strap that’s barely holding up her dress.
She gasps and closes her eyes again. Her skin is covered in gooseflesh, and she looks as if she’s barely breathing.
“No,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing.”
“I see.” I smile and tilt my head. “Then I suppose you’ll feel nothing when I do this, Elle.” I lift my finger to her jaw, tilting her chin the slightest bit before dipping my face toward hers.
She doesn’t pull away from me. Instead, she makes a soft sound in her throat as my lips slide over hers. I take that as encouragement, leaning into the kiss as need pulses through me. How is it possible for her to continue denying the energy surging between us?
Even Elle seems to realize that there’s no more pretending. As my hand slides to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, I feel her fingers yank at my tie, pulling me closer.
She completely consumes all of my senses. My mind and body are focused on one thing and one thing only—being closer to her. It doesn’t matter where we are—in fact, I’m fairly certain I’ve forgotten where we are until I hear the faint clank of a dish in front of me, and even then I’m perfectly willing to continue ignoring everything but her.
Elle, however, pulls away. That lovely flush of hers returns when she glances up and sees our waiter placing her dinner in front of her on the table.
“Forgive me,” the man tells us with a bow of his head. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No offense taken,” I say with a grin. “In fact, it’s probably for the best you arrived when you did.”
The waiter, clearly a professional, doesn’t look the least bit fazed. He gives another bow of his head as he steps back. “Is there anything else I can get for you at the moment?”
I glance over at Elle, who looks like she wants to melt into her chair.
“That should be all for now, thank you,” I say.
When our waiter has disappeared again, I turn back to Elle with a smile.
“I think you might feel something after all,” I say.
“You should learn to control yourself in public,” she says, glancing at the tables around us. “I can’t believe you just did that here.”
“Me?” I say with a laugh. “Elle, you were as much a part of that as I was. In fact, you nearly choked me with my tie.” I straighten the tie and lean closer to her. “But don’t worry, no one here noticed—or would have cared, if they did. And either way, why should it matter? We aren’t harming anyone. You shouldn’t be so concerned with what other people think.”
“We’re in public,” she says. “At a really, really nice restaurant. We probably shouldn’t be making out at the table.”
“You didn’t seem to mind making love in the public park near your home, if I recall.”
Her entire face goes red. “That was different.”
“Elle, thanks to the paparazzi, most of the world has already seen us making out. And if I recall correctly, I was naked in those photos. So I don’t imagine anyone is going to have any objections to us kissing while fully clothed on a date.”
“And what about your family? What will they think?”
Her question catches me off guard. I hadn’t intended to speak much of my family—not until it was necessary, anyway. The truth is that my father and older brother still blame Elle for my wild behavior and acts of defiance three months ago. And though I have attempted many times to make it clear that it is I and I alone who should bear responsibility, both of them are stubborn when it comes to their preconceived notions about Elle.
As soon as they meet her, they’ll love her. They’ll have to. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
But I can’t exactly say that to her. Not yet.
“I don’t make decisions based on what my family might think,” I say carefully. “Do you make decisions based on Owen’s opinions?”
She gives me a pointed look. “That’s not what I asked. What do they think of all this? Do they even know you’re here?”
“They know I’ve returned to the United States, yes,” I say. “But I don’t give them full details of my motives or whereabouts every time I leave the country. They know I always bring Matthias with me, and that he will ensure they are contacted should anything happen.”
“So…they don’t know you came here to see me.”
“They never asked.”
“If you had told them, would they have tried to stop you?”
I pick up my fork. “I really couldn’t say. You should try your lobster before it gets cold.”
“You’re a master at dodging questions, Leo,” she says. “Don’t think you’re off the hook—just consider yourself lucky that I’m starving right now.”
She shoots me a look that tells me she’s completely serious before breaking off a piece of her lobster and popping it into her mouth. As her lips close around it, her eyes widen, and she glances over at me.
“Good, isn’t it?” I say.
She swallows. “Very good.”
“Have more,” I urge her. “Order an entire second lobster if you wish. Tonight, you can have whatever you like.”
“One should be more than enough.” She looks down at her plate with renewed enthusiasm in her eyes.
I take another bite of my lobster, wondering what she truly thinks about the things I’ve just told her about my family.
It’s a good sign if she cares, I tell myself. If she never wanted to see me again after tonight, why would it matter what my family thinks?
I continue to eat my lobster, every so often glancing at her again. She seems absorbed in her meal, but a couple of times I catch her looking back at me, too.
The third time our eyes meet, I smile.
“You’re staring again,” she says.
“I can’t help it.”
“I’m surprised you can tear your attention away from this lobster.”
“I might say the same of you.”
There’s that blush on her cheeks again. “I don’t know what to think of you sometimes, Leo.”
“Funny. I know exactly what to think of you.”
One side of her mouth tilts up. “And what do you think of me right now?”
“I think it’s a shame you haven’t been kissed in a full five minutes.” I lean toward her. “I think I should kiss you right now.”
My lips brush over hers, and once again, her body seems to respond immediately to me. She leans into me, her mouth pressing back against mine. All the air seems to rush out of me as I feel her tongue slide against my lips.
I grab her and yank her against my chest. “I think I need you. Right now.”
“We’re in a restaurant—”
“And a restaurant has washrooms, doesn’t it?” I pull back and rise to my feet. “What do you say?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am entirely serious.” I grab her hand and pull her up to her feet. “Completely, utterly serious.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close to me again. My face drops, and I kiss her again, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. A soft little moan emanates from her throat.
My hands slide slowly downward, across the curves of her ass. She jumps, pulling back slightly, but she doesn’t withdraw completely from my arms.
“Fine,” she whispers. “Fine, let’s go to the bathroom.”
I grin. “My lady’s wish is my command.”
Her entire upper body is now bright red. “Now you’re just teasing me.”
“I assure you, I’m doing nothing of the sort.” I grab her hand and pull her toward the washrooms. “As I said, I’m completely serious.”
She thr
ows a glance back at the rest of the restaurant as we head toward the back of the room.
“Don’t worry about them,” I tell her, my voice low. “No one will notice us. Or care.”
We’ve reached the small corridor at the back of the room, and I pull her into the first open washroom.
Fortunately, the Ambrosia Room has only the finest of facilities. This private washroom is decorated as luxuriously as the restaurant itself—and it features a small decorative sofa against the far wall.
I click the lock shut behind us and grab her against me again.
If I thought we were hungry for each other last night, it’s nothing compared to the desire pulsing between us right now. Perhaps the lobster only whetted our appetite for all of the pleasures of life. Our mouths attack each other. I can’t get enough of the taste of her. Can’t get enough of the feel of her beneath my hands. Can’t get enough of her.
My hands slide to her ass again. I grab her and lift her up against me. Her legs wrap around me, and the skirt of her dress slides up her hips. My fingers dig into her as I start to walk her across the room to that little sofa.
And then she bites down on my lip, and I know there’s no way I’ll make it even that far.
I turn and push her back up against the wall. Her legs tighten around me, and I release her so I can reach down and undo the zipper on my pants.
Her mouth pulls away from mine.
“Do…you…” She can hardly get the words out between her labored breaths. “Condom…”
“In…my…pocket…” I rasp. I’m as breathless as she is. My fingers fumble at my pocket, and after a moment I manage to grab the foil wrapper. Thank God I came prepared. I knew I’d never be able to make it through the evening without having her again.
I push my pants down my legs and somehow manage to get the condom wrapper open without dropping Elle. She kisses my neck, her teeth nipping at my throat. A growl escapes me. I sound almost animal.
I can’t wait a moment longer. It probably hasn’t even been two minutes since we got up from the table, but somehow it feels a thousand times longer.
The moment the condom is on, I don’t even pause to take a breath before I plunge into her.
Elle cries out as I pull her down fully onto my length, her fingers digging into my back. Her teeth bite down on the skin of my neck again as I start to move, rocking into her again and again.
How did I survive without this for three whole months? How did I ever think I might be able to survive without this for the rest of my life?
We’re consumed by fire. Two bodies coming together in the pure power of desire.
I reach up and grab her hair, yanking her head back away from my throat. I want to kiss her again.
No—I need to kiss her.
As our lips meet again, my hips begin to move faster. She tightens her grip on my back, and with every thrust—every time I push myself as deep as I can go inside of her again—another one of those little cries vibrates in her throat. I swallow them all, drinking in the sounds of her pleasure.
I will never let her go. Never.
I won’t last long this time, not with the cries she’s making. Not with the way she’s holding onto me like she never wants to release me.
I pull my mouth away from hers, wanting to focus my entire energy on getting her to her peak, on pushing her over the edge before I reach my own release. I lean my head over her shoulder, letting my forehead rest against the wall behind her.
“Come for me,” I murmur huskily. “Come for me, Elle.”
She responds with a moan that seems to resonate through my body.
I want to give this woman the greatest pleasure she’s ever known. More than that—I want to give her everything.
The words bubble up in my throat before I have the chance to stop them. Before I even realize what I’m saying.
“I love you. I love you, Elle.”
Her nails dig into me. When she speaks, her voice is so quiet I’m afraid to believe what I hear. “I…I love you, too.”
I thrust into her again—I swear it feels deeper than I’ve ever been inside her before—and suddenly she stiffens against me, her body contracting as her climax hits. She cries out and clings to me, and I groan as my own release rushes out of me.
As the moment of ecstasy pulses through me, I can only think of one thing: I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe I told her I love her.
And then: I can’t believe I love her.
I’m in love with her.
I don’t know how I never realized it before now—but I love Eleanor Parker. I love her more than I ever imagined I could love a woman.
I love her.
I LOVE HER!
I’ve never told a woman I loved her before. And I’ve definitely never experienced the feelings that go along with it.
And she said she loved me, too.
Euphoria rushes through me—followed quickly by mind-numbing fear. What am I doing? I can’t love someone. That’s not what I do—I’m Prince Leopold of Montovia. I have a reputation to uphold, after all.
But God, with Elle…everything I thought I knew about myself just goes out the window.
Slowly, I lower her to the ground. She’s still clinging to me, but after a moment, she pulls her hands away.
“That was…” She still sounds like she’s fighting for breath.
“I know,” I murmur. I kiss her temple.
Now she can’t deny that we belong together. Now there’s absolutely no chance she’ll want to go back for that job interview. Not after what we just experienced together.
“And we haven’t even gotten to the dessert course yet,” I say.
She lets out an exhausted, breathless laugh. “I think I might need a nap before then.”
“Mm, I agree.” I pull her back against me. Let my hands roam over her back. “Shall we return to my jet?”
She nods against my chest. “That sounds nice.”
Very nice indeed. Perhaps by the time we return to the plane, we’ll both be ready for another round of pleasure.
I call for Matthias and the car before quickly settling our bill. I have the owner pack us some of his famous tiramisu for later.
A short while later, in the car on the way back to the jet, Elle’s head falls against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her and hold her close, smiling to myself.
I guess I wore her out more than I thought. I could stay like this forever, just holding her while she dozes. Who would have thought that such a small thing could be so beautiful? That it could make me so happy?
No, she’s never going back to her old life. She’ll never want to. Not if I can help it.
When we reach the jet, I shake her gently.
“We’re here,” I tell her. “Time to get on the plane.”
Groggily, she sits up. She gives me a lazy smile as I help her out of the car.
She perks up slightly as we head up the stairs to the cabin. Matthias has already prepared it for our flight. He’s acquired some things for Elle as I asked him to—nightclothes and toiletries, among other conveniences—and folded the sofa down into a bed. I had the sofa custom made for this plane, and when it’s made up with high thread count sheets, it’s as comfortable as any bed in any of the world’s finest resorts.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine,” she says. She smiles back at me.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her, motioning to the bed. “You can take a nap once we’re in the air.”
“I’ll probably end up sleeping the entire way back to Arizona.”
I freeze on the top step. She wants to go back to Arizona?
“What if…” I trail off and start again as I follow her into the cabin. “I thought perhaps we might go somewhere else.”
She turns back toward me, frowning in confusion. “Where?”
“Anywhere we want,” I say, spreading my arms. “We have a plane. We can go wherever we like.” This is the part where I should tell her I have
her passport, but something stops me.
For a moment, I swear I see something in her eyes—a spark. A gleam. A glimmer of excitement.
But then she shakes her head. “I told you—I have to get back in time for my interview.”
“Forget the interview,” I say flippantly. “We can get you another later. In the meantime, we have the whole world at our feet.”
But she gives another shake of her head, and this time, something has closed off in her expression.
“I need to go to this interview,” she says. “I need to do this. For me. My work is important to me, Leo. More important than I think you realize.”
“I realize it’s important,” I say, but inside, I’m trying to make sense of everything.
She’s still shaking her head as she closes the distance between us. Her hand comes up and rests lightly against my cheek.
“No,” she murmurs. “You don’t. My work is…everything. It’s what I was put on this earth to do. It’s why I wake up in the morning. I know you mean well, Leo, but please don’t ask me to give it up.” She attempts to smile. “This weekend was…wonderful. The perfect way to end what we had together. We both know this has to end, Leo.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop me.
“No—don’t argue. We know it does. Let’s end it like this—on good terms. After spending an amazing couple of days together.”
I’m speechless. Did I just imagine the part where she said she loved me? Was I so delirious with pleasure that all of that was some sort of hallucination? But it makes no sense otherwise—if she loves me, then how can she even consider ending things now?
She must see something of my thoughts on my face, because something softens in her eyes.
“Leo, I…I mean it when I say I’ll never forget this. I’ll never forget you.” She blinks. “You’re right—there is something different between us. Something I’ve never felt before. But your life is in Montovia. And I…I belong where there’s work for me. Where people need me. I know a lot of people would happily trade in a life of work for one of fancy dresses and champagne, but I can’t. If I did, I think I’d lose a piece of my soul. I need to go to this interview. For myself.”
I know nothing I can say will make her change her mind. I can see it in her eyes. And frankly, I’m not even sure what I could say in response to a speech like that.
