Page 6 of Rowdy Prince
“Laura showed me all the news articles and where Reinqueno is on the map.”
“And you’re weirded out by that?” I tilt my head a little, trying to catch her eye. I’m rewarded by the softness of her green-flecked gaze when she turns to face me.
“I’m embarrassed. All these years, I’ve been making a fool out of myself. You’ve probably been laughing your ass off at me. I mean, I offered to pay your airfare and called you the Prince of Bullshit in an email to your security team.”
“To be fair, I set up a separate email address specifically for you to send that. I had a feeling that whatever you sent through would likely be flagged by the royal guard and they wouldn’t let me out of the country.”
“I must be a huge joke to you then.”
I reach across and take her hand in mine. “No, querida. I don’t think you’re a joke.”
Her breath sucks in as I lift her hand and press a soft kiss against her knuckles. The simple connection causes a flood of need to course through my body and it takes a hell of a lot of self-restraint to stop myself from growling and dragging her into the backseat to have my way with her—not that we’d fit in the backseat of her tiny car. But you catch my drift.
“Luis,” she whispers, and even through her hand I can feel that she’s trembling. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” Forcing myself to let go of her soft hand, I straighten myself in my seat and take a calming inhale before I run a hand down my face. “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don't mind.” The way she looks at me, she’s begging me to do so much more than kiss her hand. And god, I want to give in to her. I want to give her the world. I want to promise her a life. But I don’t have the capacity to follow through with those promises. And I hate that.
I offer her the ghost of a smile as I wage war with what I know I should do and what I want to do. “Do you think...” I glance over my shoulder to where Charles is still locked inside the rental. He looks furious and is making hand signals at me that basically say he’s going to kill me when he gets out of that car.
“Do I think?” She swallows, the air between us full of tension.
I lick my lips. “Can we get out of here?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Remember the cabin we used to spend the summer in?”
“That’s over an hour’s drive.”
“Good. It’ll give us the chance to talk again. Like we used to. Please?”
“All right,” she says, her voice sexy and breathy as she takes a hold of the steering wheel and pulls out into the street. My eyes drop down to where the hem of her dress has slid up and I can see the silky softness of her thighs. I’m desperate to find my way between them, to have this woman as mine. Even though it can only be temporary.
Unless I never go back.
Tara
“I’m sorry for calling you the prince of bullshit,” I say after a few blocks of silence. Being around him feels so strange now. Not because he’s royalty, though. Ever since he pressed those full, smooth lips against my hand, I’ve been unable to think of anything but. One tiny action made everything change. Suddenly, there’s the possibility of something. I don’t know what, but whatever it is, I want it. It could be a night. It could be forever. But when the one man you’ve always longed for notices you, you don’t ask too many questions. You just dive in, and take and give, and hope that whatever it is will be enough to fill the emptiness in your heart.
He laughs and rubs a hand over the slight beard he’s sporting. It’s new. And I like it on him. I wonder if it’s his version of a disguise? “It was the funniest thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” he says. “You can call me the Prince of Bullshit whenever you like, querida. It reminds me I’m just a man.”
And what a man he is.
“And I’m sorry I never believed you. It just seemed so far-fetched that a prince was in my home.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, querida. I enjoyed our conversations. I’ve missed the way you used put me in my place. Spending those years as a part of your family made me a better man, and I’ll be a better king as a result.”
“I read that your father passed away recently. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. He was a good man, and he believed that sending me away for college would broaden by worldview, which it did. But it also gave me a longing that my life in the palace can never fulfill.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
My heart thuds so loud that he probably hears the echo through my chest. “You long for me?” I ask, glancing at him before returning my eyes to the road. “In what way? I mean, I think I understand in what way, but I need to hear you say it because no one has ever said something like that to me before, and I need to be sure that what I think you mean is actually what you mean so I don’t embarrass myself by supposing.”
