Page 63 of Reluctantly Rogue

I almost laugh out loud. As if I would even know what to ask for.

I really want another kiss. I also know that that’s innocuous compared to other things.

I’m not even sure how to put the other things to words. Certainly not out loud to an actual human man.

Again, I just nod.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon,” he says, then turns and pulls the door shut behind him.

I let out a long breath.

Man, if it’s easy to feel how I’m feeling right now around other men, I am going to be a bundle of nerves, emotions, and hormones for the next ten days.

But I don’t actually think that will be a problem.

I don’t know much about men, dating, sex, and romance, but I have a feeling that all of this between Jonah and me is unusual.

How do I look? Is this okay for drinks tonight?

Almost two hours later, I send the text and the photo of me in front of the full-length mirror in my hotel room to my sister.

I showered and then dressed in casual clothes to sit in the living area with my computer while Jonah cleaned up after his workout.

When I came back into my bedroom, I could smell his soap and aftershave hanging in the air.

I took in huge lungfuls.

I love the smell of him. Yes, it makes my heart beat faster and my nipples tighten and my skin feel tingly. But those are pleasant sensations in a way. I feel more alive and almost…daring.

We’re in the U.S.. No one from Cara is here. I don’t have to mind every single thing I do or say like I feel I do when I’m at the palace.

And the way I react to Jonah’s scent in my bedroom and bathroom makes me wonder if he had a reaction to being in my bedroom or the scent of my shampoo and soap in the shower.

And I hope so.

That’s probably problematic, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about it. And that Iwanthim to have a reaction.

It’s as if now that I know he has feelings for me, that hewantsme, I can’t stop wanting him to want me even more. That’s not kind. That’s not sympathetic.

But I’ve never had a man want me before. At least not like this. A man like Jonah. One who reallyknowsme, but wants me anyway. And one who I want too. One who could have any other woman. One who is good and loyal and noble so is holding back, yet still makes me feel desirable and admired and safe.

Damn. You look great. You’re so hot with your hair down. I don’t know why you don’t wear it that way more often.

Is my sister’s response.

I’m in the green dress Jonah told me to bring. My hair is down, and I’m wearing the lipstick and the heels he mentioned.

I look good.

And I feel nauseous.

She’s right. I don’t wear my hair down often. It’s much more businesslike and sophisticated up.

I smooth my hands over my hips and turn to check myself out from behind.

I suppose this dress is sexy. I think the last time I wore it, I had a jacket over the top.

But I definitely would not have worn my hair down.

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