Page 35 of Prince of Her Heart
The oak tree stood steady just outside, its thick branch still strong and familiar.It might’ve grown a couple of inches since she was a teenager, but not enough to deter her.
With deft movements honed in childhood and perfected by years of stubborn independence, Tabitha slipped out the window and down the thick limbs of the oak tree, her fingers curling around the bark as she moved with quiet determination.The night air was cooler now, crisp against her skin, and the cicadas hummed in the distance.
Ramzi’s bed and breakfast wasn’t far—just three blocks through the sleepy streets of Hendersonville.Her plan was simple: sneak over, apologize for the identity leak, and figure out a strategy to keep theirfakeengagement out of the press and off social media.The last thing either of them needed was a scandal that made headlines.Or worse—a diplomatic incident over something as ridiculous as a pretend relationship with a small-town woman in borrowed heels.
She slowed as she approached the charming Victorian inn, pausing in the shadows beneath a spreading maple tree.One of Ramzi’s guards emerged from the darkness like a shadow, his stance casually alert but unmistakably protective.
“Is he up there?”she whispered, nodding toward a second-floor window softly aglow with light.
The man glanced upward, then gave a sharp nod.“Yes, ma’am.”
“If I climb that tree, are you going to give him a heads-up?”
The bodyguard chuckled, a deep, amused sound.“Yes, ma’am.”
Tabitha groaned and scanned the perimeter.Every door and window was dark except the one she wanted.“The owners?”
“Locked up for the night.Gone to bed,” he confirmed with a hint of glee.
She glared at him, crossing her arms.“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said cheerfully, hooking his thumbs into his belt.“Would you like a boost?”
Tabitha narrowed her eyes at the offending tree, then shook her head.“Nah.I’ve got this.”
She walked around the base, calculated her angle, then jumped.Her hands found the lowest branch and she hauled herself up, muscles straining slightly in the snug dress.Her tomboy past came roaring back to life, and within moments, she was climbing like she was sneaking into the high school gym through the top window to prank the cheerleaders.
Just as she reached the window, it flew open.
Ramzi appeared, shirtless, scowling—and sexy as sin.
“What the hell are you doing?”he growled, reaching for her.His voice was low but sharp, thick with panic and anger.She had no doubt he was cursing her in three languages under his breath.Before she could answer, he hauled her inside, then slammed the window shut and yanked the curtains closed with a snap.
“Tabitha!I swear, I should spank your adorable ass for pulling a stunt like that!”
She blinked, her brain short-circuiting at the sight of him shirtless.Oh my God.He was every fantasy come to life—muscled, golden-skinned, and looking far too good for someone woken in the middle of the night by a lunatic climbing a tree.
Her hand lifted before she could stop it, fingers brushing against the heat of his chest.She shouldn’t be doing this.Sheshouldn’t.This wasn’t real.None of it.They were pretending.Pretending to be in love.Pretending to be engaged.Pretending—
“Ah, Tabitha,” he groaned, covering her hand with his, pressing it more firmly to his skin.His eyes fluttered closed as if savoring the sensation.“You drive me crazy.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, trying to make her hand pull away.
He opened his eyes slowly, dark gaze focused and unwavering.“Why the hell not?”
He stepped closer, keeping her hand pinned to his chest as his free arm wrapped around her waist.“We’ve been building to this foryears, Tabitha,” he said, voice low and intense.“Years of stolen looks and what-ifs.And now you’re in my arms, in my room… and there’s no press.No friends.No parents spying from behind curtains.”His eyes gleamed.“There’s no one here to interrupt.”
Then he kissed her.
This kiss was raw.Possessive.Deep.His tongue swept into her mouth with hungry precision, and her entire body arched into his.There was no audience.No pretense.Justthem.
She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing closer because she couldn’t get close enough.Her legs lifted and wrapped around his waist with natural instinct.Ramzi didn’t hesitate.He carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing at all.
As the mattress cushioned her back, she loosened her grip around his neck—but not around his hips.She wanted that solid, delicious weight.And God, she could feel every inch of him pressing against her, hard and ready.
Her breath caught in her throat as she rolled her hips, pushing into him.
A hiss escaped his lips.
