The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales) (5 page)

“I don’t think you do.” She uncrossed her arms and poked him in the chest again. Prince or not, she wasn’t going to tiptoe around him. And if he didn’t like that? Well, he could
let her go
. “You live in your pretty little castle.” Another poke. “Wearing your pretty little suits.” Again. “And wave your pretty little hand to order me abducted out of a coffee shop before I could so much as finish my croissant.”

He caught her wrist, his grip firm. “Would you like another croissant brought to you, my lady?”

“What? No.” She growled in her throat. “That’s
not
the point.”

“I know.” He cocked a brow again, not even a hint of anger, embarrassment, amusement—heck, anything even
remotely
resembling emotion—crossing his face. “That was my attempt at a joke.”

She wrenched free. “Well, I see why you don’t do it often, then.”

He let out another laugh. “Touché.”

She glared at him, not speaking.

“Is it so bad to spend a few nights in my castle?” He reached out as if to touch her again, then pulled back. “I, for one, would like to get to know you again. I’ve always regretted not staying in touch with you.”

If he’d taken literally any other approach to this…and if he hadn’t broken her heart and his trust like he had…maybe she would have liked that, too. But instead, he took what he wanted without asking for it. Instead, he played with the emotions of the people around him, like a puppet master and his marionette.

“I know all I need to know about you,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I have no regrets over how you acted after you left New York. It showed me your true character.” Brushing past him, she yanked the door open. Sure enough, there was a guard standing there, waiting for her escape. It was the same man who had ridden in the car with her on the way here. “Please show me to my room.”

The man glanced over her shoulder, presumably at Leo, and then nodded.

She gritted her teeth.

Leo came up behind her and gripped her elbow. “Alicia—”

“Let go of me.” She snatched her arm back. “And go to hell while you’re at it.”

Everyone around them gasped.

A guard stepped forward, but Leo held up a hand, halting him immediately. Jaw clenched, he bowed. “As you wish, my lady.”

And then he shut the door in her face.

Chapter Seven

Three days.

Three long, agonizing, slow, torturous
days
.

That was how long Alicia had been in his home.

Once, zero, zilch, nada.

That’s how many times he’d seen her since her arrival.

Every day he sent her an invitation to join him for supper. Every day the servant he sent returned with downcast eyes and a whispered refusal. He got it. He was an asshole for detaining her. He deserved every ounce of her anger and her hatred and whatever else she wanted to throw at him, but he’d expected her to actually
give
it to him.

Not hide in her room for her whole stay.

That wasn’t supposed to be her style—and it sure as hell wasn’t his.

He was a man of actions, not words, and not being able to communicate with her, or even see her, certainly wasn’t helping his cause…or his guilt over this whole situation.

He’d done enough thinking to last a damn lifetime.

It was time for some fucking action.

He lowered his fist, glowering at the door.

For two minutes now, he’d been standing outside her bedroom, trying to think of the perfect thing to say when that door swung open, but the words wouldn’t come. As the prince, he
had
to know how to sway the conversation his way with his eyes closed, half asleep, while handcuffed. He could win any argument, anywhere.

It was his
job
.

But with Alicia, he managed to mess up every single encounter.

Ever since he delivered her suitcases to her room, Harry kept making snide remarks about her hiding out, saying the castle was better off without her roaming around Americanizing everything, but the truth was the country could use a little bit of Americanizing. Harry was just too much of a disapproving snob to see it, and Leo had already started searching for a new aide.

He didn’t need that condescending shit in his office.

Lifting his fist again, he knocked on the door three times. She was here, and he wanted to spend time with her. If that made him an asshole, so be it. He was a fucking prince. He preferred to face his problems, no matter how rough they might be, head on.

Alicia was the most beautiful problem he’d ever had.

The guard he’d sent away earlier came around the corner, saw him still standing there and backed up slowly at the same time as the door swung open.

“
Please
tell him I’m not interested in his stupid dinn—” The second she saw who stood outside, she cut herself off. “Go away.”

“I—” He barely caught a glimpse of her long hair and bright blue eyes, which was apparently enough to made his blood heat and his heart pound, before the door almost swung shut again. He slid his foot inside it at the last second, barely stopping her from locking him out. She slammed into the door with the force she’d been using to close it, her held breath escaping her in a soft whoosh of air, and pain shot up his calf. “Jesus, Alicia.”

The guard came running toward him, and he scowled at the man.

He immediately stopped, backing off again.

She narrowed her eyes. “Wow. It must be nice to have the power to stop a man in his tracks with nothing more than a magical stare.”

“It would be nicer if my ‘magical stare’ worked on you, too. Or, better yet, my kisses. As I recall, they worked pretty damn well at the club.” He leaned on the doorjamb, sliding his foot inside a bit more. Her cheeks flushed as she sucked in a breath, staring at his mouth before forcing her attention back to his eyes. If nothing else, it was obvious that despite her hatred for him, she still desired him—and he couldn’t stop the surge of satisfaction that punched him in the chest at that knowledge. “Maybe we could try again?”

“I’d rather kiss my own foot,” she said with a cold smile.

Amusement warred with frustration in his gut. It was beginning to become a feeling he associated with Alicia. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be with her—he had to get to the bottom of why she thought he was a liar. It had been eating at him for three days, keeping him up at night as he lay alone in his bed. This had to stop. “You can’t stay in there forever.”

“No, but I
can
stay in here until I’m permitted to leave.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “And, for the record, we have no reason to spend time together.”

He raised a brow. “I disagree. You may be in denial, but I see how your body reacts to me.”

“You’re welcome to fool yourself into thinking that, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Let me in, and I’ll show you just how wrong you are,” he said, his tone low. “Several times.”

She bit down on her lip, her breath quickening. “No, thank you.”

It took all his control not to reach through the door, curl his hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her until she stopped hating him long enough to
listen
.

She wore blue jeans, a gray tank top, and flip-flops. She was the epitome of the all-American girl he’d fallen for years ago, but she was grown up now. All woman. And she was fucking
killing
him.

His gaze dipped over her soft curves, lingering over the way the soft cotton shirt played with the natural slope of her breasts. It was long and loose, but there was no erasing the fact that her hips fit all too perfectly in his hands. He’d learned that firsthand.

It was something he’d never forget…

No matter how easily she could.

She cleared her throat, cheeks red, and tugged on her shirt as if that would hide her body from him. It wouldn’t work. Nothing would. The way her body felt pressed against his was ingrained in his memory, and it haunted him every night when he laid in bed alone with nothing but his own hand to keep him company. It was a poor substitute for her warm body, which he’d also learned firsthand…no pun intended.

“
Stop,
” she demanded, pressing her palm to her stomach and taking a deep breath.

“Stop what?” he asked immediately.

“Stop looking at me like you’ve seen me naked,” she finished, biting down on her lower lip.

He smirked, taking in her slim form again. This time he did it deliberately. He lingered over his favorite parts, taking his time. An answering desire darkened her eyes, and she leaned in closer, as if she felt the invisible pull between them that he’d been feeling since the moment she walked into that club.

Hell, scratch that.

He’d felt it back in New York.

“I don’t care how much I still want to jump your bones, I’m not going to—” she broke off, her cheeks instantly turning red. “Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud?”

Satisfaction coiled in his gut, and he leaned in, his chest rising and falling rapidly because she’d just admitted to
wanting
him. And if she still felt it, too…

It was time to stop playing quite so nicely.

“I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just hungry, for food, so I want to jump your bones…for food…not sex.” She stopped talking, shaking her head. “Yeah. No. That didn’t make it any better.”

He rubbed his jaw, hiding his smile. “Nope.”

“Just go
away
.” She pushed the door on his foot again, but he didn’t budge.

“You know what the sad part about that is?” he asked, dropping his voice even lower than before.

She licked her lips. “What?”

“I haven’t seen you naked in a long time—but damn, you have no idea how badly I wish I had. I haven’t able to get you out of my head the last three days.” Reaching through the door, he skimmed his knuckles over her shoulder, next to the strap of her tank top, dipping down her arm gently. “If you’d let me, I’d touch you, caress you, kiss you, taste you.
Everywhere
. But this time, I’d go slowly. Cherish every inch of you intimately, as I should have the first time we were together, until you’re crying and begging me to make it stop. And I will. Make it stop. I promise.”

She sucked in a breath, cheeks pink, and reared back. “Stop saying those things. Someone will hear you.”

“Then let me in, so I can say them in the privacy of your room. Because I won’t stop.” His heart pounded harder at the need he saw burning inside her. “I will never force myself on you, or coerce you in any way, but you can be damned sure I’ll use every fucking chance I have to let you know how badly I want you. Once wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.”

Letting out a small laugh, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and whistled through her teeth. She put on a good show, trying to pretend his words didn’t affect her, but he could see the truth of it in the way she stood, and the way she avoided his gaze, and her quickened breaths. “You’re ridiculous. And just so you know, that…what you just mentioned…was a one-time deal. Never happening again. But you can’t stand out in the hall talking dirty. It’s weird.”

“If you say so.” He gripped the doorjamb. “We had so much fun when we were kids. I’d like a second chance to show you that we can, at the very least, be friends.”

That wasn’t what he wanted. No,
his
head was filled with thoughts of her in his bed, writhing beneath him. But he wouldn’t push. It was enough just to spend time with her…

For now.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “I don’t particularly like the man you’ve become, and I choose instead to remember the boy I knew…before you left New York.”

She hit an arrow straight to the heart with that. What did she think he’d done?

Frustration at her attitude warred with his desire to make her see he wasn’t this monster that she made him out to be. He was just a guy who made a few stupid mistakes as a kid. “You liked me in that hallway, before you found out who I was. You liked it when I fucked you against that wall, hard and—”

“Oh my God, shut up.”

He nodded once. “Okay. But can you at least try to put yourself in my shoes?” he asked quietly. “I told you, I don’t sleep around, and it’s for this very reason. I don’t enjoy detaining a woman to make sure that the condom I’ve been carrying inside my wallet for three years did its job. And—”

She pressed a hand to her stomach, looking a little green around the face. “
Three years
?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the guard was a respectable distance away. “That was the last time I…well, you know. I date a great deal. It’s sort of expected. But like I’ve said, I don’t sleep with everyone I date. This antiquated law of ours is a pain in the ass and puts a damper on a guy’s sex life.”

She laughed. “You—a young, attractive prince who could get anyone in this country in his bed—haven’t had sex for three years?” she practically shouted.

Hell, the whole country probably knew now.

“Shh,” he said, glancing toward the guard again, who quickly gave them his back. “Please. Let me in so we can talk privately. I
beg
you.”

She raised her brows. “Beg?”

“That’s right.
Beg
.”

“Wow.” Whistling through her teeth, she stepped back, finally releasing his foot from the prison he’d stuck it into. “That must’ve hurt.”

Glancing down, he wiggled his toes. “A little.”

“I wasn’t talking about the foot.”

He shrugged. “My response still stands.”

“Interesting,” she said, eyeing him. “And honest.”

“I’m a straightforward man. If you ask me a question, you’ll get an honest answer.”

Nodding slowly, she watched him more closely. “Why are you so
honest
?”

“A ruler can’t afford to get caught in a lie. I’ll never lie to you, Alicia. I swear it.”

She stared at him another moment, then instead of saying she believed him or she didn’t, she settled into the chair in the sitting area of her room, she tucked her legs under her and immediately asked, “What’s your biggest fear?”

Easy one. She’d have to up her game if she wanted to make him sweat. “Failure.”

“What’s the best thing about being a prince?” she asked, biting her lip.

“The castle.” It was only partly a joke. He’d grown up here; it was home. A short pause, then he added, “And the cars. I have a lot of fast cars. I could take you for a ride in one, if you’d like.”

She snorted. “Such a guy answer.”

He laughed, the tension in his shoulders loosening at her openness in talking to him for the first time since he brought her here. Despite the past, and whatever she thought he’d done, he truly enjoyed her company. She brought back memories of the boy he’d once been. “Okay, fine. Real answer. I like being able to change the country for the better. I enjoy making laws, and making sure people live by them. I hope to be remembered for my fairness, and for making our struggling country financially stable. I hope to make a difference.”

She blinked at him, her mouth ajar. “How are you going to do that?”

“According to my father?” He lifted a shoulder. “Through marriage to a wealthy princess, of course. He’s got one in particular in mind for me, and she’s willing but…”

“Of course she is,” she said, averting her face. Was that a backhanded compliment, or was he only hearing what he wanted to hear? “And according to you?”

He headed for the bar in her room. “No fucking way that will happen. The only thing she talks about is shoes. I get it, people like shoes, but it’s an obsession. So, that’s a no, according to me. I’m determined, when the time is right, to marry for love.”

“Love?” she murmured. “I didn’t know princes married for that.”

“They generally don’t,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t stop me from hoping I could. I’ve given up many things in my life, without reservation. I live to serve the country, my people, but I won’t give up on that.”

“And if you can’t marry for love?” she asked softly.

All this marriage talk made him nervous. He was young and definitely wasn’t in the mood to settle down. He had a good ten years until that time came…maybe twenty. “Then I won’t marry at all.” Tugging on his collar, he sighed. “I need a scotch. Would you like a brandy?”

“No.” She frowned. “I’ll take a scotch.”

“Are you sure?” He walked toward the bar. “It’s pretty stiff.”