Page 37 of Royal Charmer
“Thanks, Lucas, for everything. You’ve been really good to me, and I appreciate it.”
“Right. Goodnight.” He leaves, shutting the double doors behind him, effectively shutting me away before I can get out my own goodnight.
“Goodnight!” I call through the door belatedly.
I get ready for bed, changing into my favorite sleep shirt that reads So Many Books So Little Time with my pale blue sleep shorts. I hear the TV go on in the living room and tell myself to stay put.
My self doesn’t listen, and I pull open the door and poke my head out. He’s not in there. The doors to his bedroom are closed. Maybe he’s getting ready for bed too. Is he one of those men who strip down to their boxer briefs when they get comfortable at night? I willnotsneak a peek.
This is silly. I really am tired, and I want to be well rested for sightseeing tomorrow. I won’t be back here anytime soon.
I climb into bed and turn off the light.
~ ~ ~
Lucas
I’m restless, tense, and I know exactly why, but I don’t want it to be that because then I’ve screwed this whole thing up. It was supposed to be a game. I mean, yes, I was attracted to her from the first time we met, but I also felt protective. She’s in a vulnerable place and not over her ex. I told myself not to get too close, but now that I’ve gotten to know her…she’s bright and quick-witted and so fucking sexy. I have never once been bored in her presence, and that’s no small thing. The pull to her is stronger than I’m used to with a woman, beyond desire to raging need. She checks every box for what I like in a woman, and I had the lousy luck to meet her at the worst possible time in her life.
I stalk out to the living room to watch TV, barely noticing what’s on. I turned it on earlier so I’d stop listening to Alice getting ready, and imagining what she looked like naked. For a brief moment earlier tonight, when Alice had a jealous snit over Bella, it actually felt like the fiancée thing was real, like Alice wanted me all to herself because she cared. I didn’t introduce Alice because I knew Bella wouldn’t be kind. She never is with other women.
I blow out a frustrated breath, too wired even to sit on the sofa. Playing at fiancé was supposed to be easy. What am I supposed to do with this craving to be near her? To feel her softness pressed against me? I stare at her closed bedroom doors.
This is so stupid. She’s right there, yet she might as well be back in Oregon because I can’t be the asshole here. She deserves better and, if I act on these urges, this whole thing will blow up in my face. Drama with a capital D. I know it. And then it will bring unwanted attention to us, especially from Anna and Gabriel. They don’t know I went forward with the fake-engagement plan.
I turn off the TV and go to my bedroom, climbing into bed.
A few restless minutes later, I throw back the covers, heading for the shower. Time for a date with my hand. I’m barely started when images of Alice flash through my mind—her shy smile, her laugh, her hand on my arm, her fantastic breasts. Fuck. Anyone else. I search my mind desperately, but there she is again, only this time she’s wearing the pink lacey sheer lingerie she showed me. It’s like a movie in my mind so vividly real my breathing accelerates. Time slows down, and then I’m gone. The release is a relief.
But when I lean my forehead against the shower wall, catching my breath, I’m unsatisfied. I need more. I need Alice.
What did I get myself into?
I have to protect her, and the only way to do that is to keep my distance.
~ ~ ~
Alice
After a good night’s sleep, I’m positive I did the right thing keeping my distance from the temptation that is Lucas. He’s not a staying kind of guy, and I’m not ready even if he was. I will proceed on a friendly course from now on. I need coffee to crank start my brain in the morning, but I’m just vain enough to brush the bedhead look from my hair and brush my teeth before peeking out of the bedroom.
“Good morning,” Lucas says, surprising me. He’s standing in the living room looking at me expectantly, already freshly showered and dressed in a short-sleeved light blue collared shirt, tailored tan pants, and loafers. I don’t think he owns a T-shirt or shorts. It’s a little disconcerting to find him wide awake and waiting for me. How long has he been standing there?
“Morning,” I say, stepping out of the room. I sniff the air, sensing caffeine. “Did you make coffee?” I look toward the kitchen but don’t see any.
His voice is gruff. “What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my sleep shirt. “Pajamas.” It’s a long shirt and shorts, not even remotely sexy.
He stares at the hem of my shirt and gestures at me. “Is there something under there?”
“Under where?” I grin at my little underwear joke, lifting the shirt to show him. He backs up a step, looking away. “Relax, it’s shorts. Have you been waiting for me long?”
“A bit. I ordered us some breakfast.” He gestures to the round table in front of the sofa.
I join him on the sofa, and he pours me a cup of coffee before taking a seat next to me. “Thanks.”
He’s extremely solicitous, offering me a basket full of croissants and muffins. I take a chocolate croissant. There’s also fruit slices, cheese, and a couple of hard-boiled eggs.
