The Princess Finds Her Match (6 page)

She blushed a becoming pink at his rather trite but true sentiment, and Nic fell deeper under her spell.

And because he couldn’t help it, he murmured, “Don’t I get a thank you kiss in exchange?”

She wrinkled her pert little nose at him in mock disapproval. “Don’t you do anything merely out of the goodness of your heart?”

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. “Kissing you is a very good cardio workout. Just the thought of it is already making my heart race. Feel it.”

“Oh, in that case, your health should come first.” She leaned towards him and Nic swooped down, capturing her lips and giving his heart an intensive workout for several minutes. Nic didn’t know how long they stayed out in the street. Only some catcalls from a passing car snapped him out of the moment.

“Red, I think we better take this someplace else where we can finish,” he whispered roughly.

Lexie blinked as if coming out from a deep slumber. “No. Not yet. I have another item on my list,” she mumbled.

“What list?”

As usual, she ignored him. She appeared to be a woman on a mission. As if fuelled by a higher power, she dragged Nic a few stores back where they came from. Nic stared incredulously at the neon signage. “Vinny’s Skin Art,” he read incredulously. “You want to get inked?” Somehow he didn’t peg her to be the type.

She nodded with what appeared to be a mix of trepidation and determination aimed at the façade of the tattoo parlor. “I’m scared of needles.”

Nic shook his head, completely flummoxed. “Then why do it?”

She sent him a piercing look. “Because I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

He looked at her for several seconds then simply held out his hand for her to take. She grasped it and they entered the shop.

S
ensing that she was nervous
, Vinny, a muscled Italian with a Brooklyn accent who, luckily, was in the store that night, made her drink a vodka on the house to calm her nerves. He was delighted that Lexie had seen his sample artwork courtesy of Freya.

“Normally you would have to book in advance to get a slot, but somebody chickened out,” he said, grinning. His black wife beater showed off his intricate tats.

“It’s our lucky night,” Nic said blandly.

“It must be my lucky earrings,” Lexie said, touching one of them, then realized what he had just said. “You’re getting one, too?” Lexie was starting to feel really relaxed by the cranberry vodka, now her official favorite drink. She was lounging on a mechanical chair, the one with fancy hydraulics. Around the walls were samples of artwork you could choose from.

“Sure. Why not?” he shrugged casually.

“Mind you, it can’t be anything too complicated or original. For that, I need days to draw out the design from your concept before we can execute it.”

“No,” Lexie started to shake her head and stopped, feeling a bit lightheaded in a pleasant way. “I want something simple. Just something to remember this night.”

Vinny ambled off to prepare his materials. “Be back in a jiffy.”

“What is Nic short for?”

“Nicolas.” Each syllable was drawn out, melodious. “What is Lexie short for?” he riposted quickly.

“Just Lexie.”

“Are we still playing this game?”

“What game?”

“The 20/20 questions. Twenty questions from me and twenty non-answers from you.”

Her face fell. It’s not that she wanted to hide her identity from Nic. Sooner or later he was bound to find out. She’d rather it be later. “Not now.”

She heard him sigh in frustration as he dropped on an identical chair across her. She was saved by Vinny, who came back with an assistant.

“This is Mike.” He gestured to the young looking man who appeared to be barely out of high school. At the doubt in Nic’s eyes, he said: “He’s a genius. Trained him myself.” He addressed Mike. “You take care of him,” he said, pointing to Nic, then he turned to Lexie. “And I’ll take care of this sweetheart.”

“Naturally,” was Nic’s sardonic reply.

Lexie saw the warning glance Nic shot Vinny.

“Where do you want it, honey?”

“Here, please.” Lexie shrugged off Nic’s coat, revealing her delectable body, and gestured to her shoulder blade. He really hoped the tat artist’s hands remained where they ought to. He wasn’t looking for another fight.

“Is your name Nick spelled as in N-i-c-k?” She craned her neck to look past Vinny’s bulk. It was blocking her view. She almost dropped her drink when she saw Nic pulling off his shirt, revealing tanned, well-defined chest and arms. His jeans were riding a bit low on his hips, framing flat washboard abs
. Oh, mio Dio!
She took another sip of her drink to fortify herself against the lust−inducing display. Would anyone notice if she discreetly rubbed the cold, moist vodka bottle against her neck to cool her off?

“N-i-c.” Mike was wiping some antiseptic on one of his biceps. He cocked an eyebrow at her question.

Vinny made her lie prone on the chair, which had magically straightened out like a bed. Nic was across her, just a few feet away. She turned her head towards him, her hands pillowing her cheek. “I have to make sure Vinny gets the spelling right.”

“The spelling?” His head shot up and electric blue eyes pinned her with lightning intensity as he quickly understood the import of her words.
So this is what smoldering looks like
, Lexie thought with a hint of hysteria. She was unable to look away from Nic. Her whole body felt hot and heavy, so much so that the first prick of the needle didn’t bother her too much. Her nipples were poking into the cushion of the chair. She started to feel overheated and moist down under.

“Don’t move,” Vinny admonished when she squeezed her legs tighter.
Oh, God, I am so going to get it later.
Oddly, the thought didn’t send her into a panic. She was filled with breathless anticipation. She had closed her eyes to block out Nic’s gorgeousness from burning her retina but when she opened them, he was raking his blue eyes all over her body in a way that made her boneless. He stroked his lip with his forefinger, and Lexie bit on hers to stop from moaning.

“Stop it,” she croaked, and the activity on her shoulder blade ceased. “Not you,” she ground out over her shoulder to Vinny. “Him!”

Nic smothered a laugh, not minding Mike’s needle. The man was clearly enjoying himself at her expense. Lexie decided it was payback time. She caught his eye and deliberately made a show of dragging her gaze down all over his body until she settled on the area between his legs. In disbelief, the wicked man splayed his limbs even wider, making himself more comfortable. She gave a small gasp of faux outrage when she saw the bulge in his crotch. With a huff, as much as she could do anyway without Vinny complaining she was moving too much, she turned her face away. But not before she saw the amused gleam in his electric blues that had her smiling like an idiot until Vinny was done with her.

N
ic insisted
on paying for their tats even though she was secretly a modern royal and carried money with her, unlike Stefan, who delegated everything to his personal secretary. She gave in graciously. Everything was rosy in her alcohol-induced buzz.

“Show me your tattoo,” Lexie demanded. They stepped out of the shop as the taxi they called in pulled up by the curb. Nic pulled up his right sleeve.
“Rojita,”
she read, trying to make out the letters written in beautiful cursive. Then understanding dawned. “It means little red one,” she translated, suddenly short of breath. She touched her wig involuntarily.

He smiled in amazement. “You know Spanish?”

She nodded. “It was a requirement. I had to learn four languages as a child−” she broke off, suddenly remembering she was a different person tonight. Nic’s smile faltered and his expression became shuttered.

“Let’s get out of here.”

There was a definite chill inside the cab. Lexie suddenly felt awkward as the driver asked for their destination. Nic’s eyes were glittering even in the dim interior. When she refused to say anything, he said evenly, “The Bellagio.”

“Nic.” She reached out for his hand tentatively, needing his warmth. He was staring rigidly out of the window. “Please, don’t be like this. Not tonight.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what you want to know tomorrow.”
Tomorrow I can handle it. I must.

His shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “What do you want from me, Lexie?” His tone was neutral but his eyes were another story. “I need you to say it.”

Did she dare? Again? To be reckless and foolish? It was only for one goddamn night. She owed it to herself, and after…she wouldn’t think about that now. She wouldn’t, not when Nic’s eyes were clearly telling her the same thing she needed.

She took a deep breath. ”I want you to make love to me, Nic,” she declared, finally jumping off the tower, free falling.

T
he moment
the door of his hotel room slammed close, Nic had her back pressed against it in two seconds flat. Both his arms were flanking her head, trapping her.

“I’m clean, Lexie. I had myself tested months ago and I haven’t,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “been,” and the area between nose and lips, “with a woman since.”

He paused, and she knew it was her cue. “I haven’t been with a man since−” she floundered, “since then, too.” Lexie doubted he had even heard what she had said.

He leaned in closer, angling his head towards her neck. “Did you just sniff me?” she squeaked.

“Hhhmm,” he murmured, “you smell so fucking good.” And he sniffed again. “Like a flower,” he nuzzled the skin under her jaw, “the purple one.”

Due to her repressed upbringing, or at least, that was how she chose to justify it, Lexie found nothing as erotic as the combination of the F word and a gorgeous, sexy man who was going to be effing her in a few moments. Okay, scratch that. The big hand that was presently slinking up her thigh right this second and nearing its presumed target? That was just as effing erotic, too.

“It’s lavender−oohh!” Lexie attempted to sound sexy and breathy at the start, all soft, tremulous moans and sighs issuing forth from her lips as Nic did wicked things to her body, but all veneer of sex kitten left her when his tongue darted inside her ear and started doing things there that should be declared illegal. “Aaargh!” It was a cross between a giggle and a whimper of pleasure but managed to sound like a cat purring with a hairball stuck in its throat. Lexie started sliding down to the floor but Nic caught her and strode to the bed, laying her down gently.

“Are you wet, Lexie?”Nic rasped as he pushed her dress up over her hips and spread her legs wide.

“M−maybe?” She could feel the blush reaching all the way to her collarbones.

“Then let’s find out.”

He made short work of her panties, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder. She let out a muffled groan as she felt his finger delving between the lips of her sex. It was answered by an equally felt groan from Nic. “Fuck, you are soaking wet,
querida
.” That word again! Her legs fell open wider.

“Why did you stop?” she complained when Nic’s fingers disappeared.

“I want to savor you.” He sidled to her side, pulling her dress down and baring her breasts. Lexie watched through half−lidded eyes as his fingers painted her nipples with her own moisture.

“
Oh
mio Dio
,” she cried in pleasure when Nic’s mouth closed on one rigid peak, suckling her. His fingers went back between her legs, slicking her with her juices. He found her sensitive spot and circled it slowly with one finger, his motions gradually increasing in pace. He ceased his ministrations on her nipple and pulled back, watching her. Lexie closed her eyes and bit her lip, out of her mind with pleasure.

“Let go, Lexie. I’ll catch you.” His voice was a low rumble. With a small scream, Lexie’s torso bucked halfway off the bed. Her body went into spasms and then she went limp.

“
L
exie
?” Nic gave her a gentle nudge when she hadn’t moved after several minutes. A half-pained laugh escaped him when he realized she had fallen asleep and was gently snoring. She was dead to the world and oblivious to leaving him as hard as his polo mallet. He flopped back on the bed, arms folded behind his head as he contemplated the ceiling and recalled the crazy night they had shared. He had never shared that instant connection that he had experienced with Lexie with another woman in his life before. Even with Melissa, who had been an extremely sexy and beautiful woman.

He felt her moving. She had turned toward his side, almost edging him out of the bed, and he smiled ruefully. They were obviously going to have to discuss sleeping arrangements, amongst other things, tomorrow. Later, he corrected, the clock indicating it was half past two in the morning. She started tugging on her hair, mumbling in an irritated voice. He couldn’t understand what she was saying and realized she was talking in a different language, but he understood the source of irritation. Underneath the wig, Nic could feel several pins, which were probably digging into her scalp.

“Let me help you,
rojita
,” he whispered, pulling the pins as gently as he could. Underneath the wig, Lexie’s hair was swept up in another updo and held by more pins. He managed to figure out how to remove more hairpins that were stuck into her hair and was surprised by the sheer number that he had removed. Through it all, Lexie had gone back to sleeping deeply. Making sure that he had removed each and every damned one of those hairpins, he combed out Lexie’s hair so that the long tresses fell in a disarray down her back.

Nic muffled his laughter as the night lamp illuminated her real hair. It was a glorious titian red. Thank God. His tattoo wouldn’t have made any sense if she had been a brunette. He fingered the soft locks and tucked it gently behind an ear. She appeared younger in sleep. Later, they would talk. It was blessed timing that his practice was scheduled in the afternoon, so they had time to spend together before he had to be away from her. Nic decided to make himself comfortable since he had a few hours of shuteye to spare. He was still hard, but that could wait. Without standing and some hip action, he managed to remove his trousers. His mobile fell with a thud to the carpeted floor.

There were several missed calls from Rupert Butler and another from a number that wasn’t on his phone book. Lexie stirred and Nic glanced at her quickly, afraid he had woken her up, but she was still deep in slumber. Her profile was clean and pure. Her dress was still riding on her hips, exposing a smooth thigh. A shot of lust speared Nic at the sight of her breasts pressed close together by her arm. She looked like a Titian painting and Nic had never seen anything so artless and lovely. Before he knew what he was doing, Nic had captured several photos of her in repose. Later, he would show her how beautiful she was in sleep. His eyes drifted close and the last thought he remembered was that he couldn’t wait for her to awaken.

T
here was
one thing a self-proclaimed modern princess like Her Royal Highness Alexandria Maria Gallagher Ligueria from the principality of Seirenada could do very well, amongst other princess approved pursuits – curse in four languages. As this was an ability that she could not ask the Royal Secretary to include in her press kit, she deemed it useless but secretly satisfying nonetheless.

As per this instance.

“
Mecachis
!”Lexie cried out in Spanish as she was jarred from sleep, having landed on something sharp on the floor. It was the heel of her evening shoe. “
Maledizione!
” she uttered in Italian. Her limbs were tangled in the linen, and it was a good thirty seconds before she emerged victorious from battling the rumpled covers. Pushing her curly locks out of her forehead and feeling the room swimming around her, she grabbed the edge of the bed to steady herself and encountered a familiar and most gorgeous set of electric blue eyes regarding her sleepily.

“
Merde
!” Lexie felt sucker punched by those sexy eyes and dropped on her haunches. “Shit!” She felt weakness invading her limbs. Outtakes of last night’s memory came rushing back, and with it came a dawning sense of horror. “
Merparoata
!”

A deep, raspy chuckle came from the bed. “You lied to me, sweetheart.”

Lexie’s eyes panned the room in mounting panic, skittering to a stop when she spotted her discarded wig lying on top of the velvet couch.

“I did?’ she croaked, her mouth dry, trying vainly to recall if she had revealed her identity to him last night and at the same time wondering if she should make a dive for the wig.

“You told me you only knew four languages, including English, that was. You just swore in five.” He sounded delighted and Lexie stole a quick look at him, just to confirm it wasn’t the remaining alcohol level in her bloodstream that was making her hallucinate. Nope. He was still there. Draped on the bed, a hand cupping his chin, his elbow supporting that gorgeous head with wavy, grown out locks. His eyes were positively wicked.

“Oh.” Lexie’s breath hitched before she said in a rush of relief, “The last one was Liguerian. It’s a dialect, so it doesn’t count.” Hazy images of her standing on a stage, holding a microphone and belting a Britney Spears song in out-of-tune splendor came back to torture her. The crowd was cheering, egging her on, and he was watching her with a grin etched on those sexy, firm cut lips.

“Liguerian?” he asked in a raspy rumble.

Something twitched down there. Was it her uterus reacting to the ridiculously sexy male sprawled a few feet from her? Nope, just her full bladder choosing to make its presence known at that instant. She needed to pee. And where was her phone?

She stood, dragging the blanket she had draped around her with as much dignity as she could. Her bustier dress was around her hips, and Lexie didn’t want Nic watching her trying to wiggle it back up to her chest She walked slowly to the bathroom then slammed the door shut, but not before seeing Nic’s amused expression.
Oh God, where was her underwear?
she thought as she relieved herself. Flushing the toilet, she grabbed the handlebar and hoisted herself on unsteady legs. Her reflection in the mirror horrified her. Her mascara had dried in sticky flakes and her eyeliner had smudged, making her look like a raccoon. Her hair looked like several kittens had a field day playing in it. She washed her face, trying to remove as much make−up as she could, then spotting a band provided by the hotel, gathered her hair in a ponytail. She zipped herself into Blair’s rumpled dress and with a deep breath, walked out of the bathroom and completely forgot what she had been about to say.

She saw him in the process of pulling on his jeans. Lexie stopped dead cold, his naked, ripped torso rendering her speechless.

“Good morning,
rojita,
” he greeted huskily, his eyes running over her with some heat as he took in her cleanly scrubbed face and hairdo. “You are impossibly more beautiful this morning than last night.”

Goodness! She could feel the gears in her brain chugging to a slow, clanking motion at his presence. “Um, a−about last night,” Lexie began and then cringed at how original sounding she was. He started sauntering to where she was rooted stupidly in the middle of the bedroom. She started backing away, unnerved by the intensity of the expression in his eyes. He followed suit, stalking her until she bumped against the door.

“What about it?” Two muscular arms flanked her head, trapping her. Just like yesterday. Or was it earlier today? She blinked, trying to get her brain straightened out. A thumb descended and stroked her lower lip.

Focus, Lexie
, she berated herself.
Do not get distracted by those marvelous pectorals, those bronzed arms and Oh, God, that patch of cut muscles between his thighs and lower abs. And that hint of cologne and man that was now assaulting her nostrils.

“Last night was an aberra−oh−my−Lord!” she squeaked as with a deft and practiced movement, Nic unzipped her dress and pulled it down effortlessly.

“Fucking beautiful,” Nic murmured. That F word again! It was like tripping the wire to her erogenous zones. Her nipples peaked to attention and the area between her legs clenched. He slowly stood up, his hands running a leisurely path up her thighs, a burning trail on her body until they settled on her waist. “Breakfast can wait.” He stared into her eyes before uttering in a deep, sexy murmur, “Or not,” and proceeded to wipe out whatever was left of Lexie’s mental processes at that point.

Her eyes closed at the feel of swirling, decadent, wet heat on one taut nipple. She gasped when he started suckling, his other fingers rolling on its pebbled mate. Lexie’s knees started to buckle and she grasped the doorknob to keep herself upright, wary of touching any part of Nic’s body. If she touched him and participated in his seduction, she would be consumed.

Her legs finally gave way, predictably, and she landed in an unglamorous heap on the floor.

“Easy,” Nic cooed and instead of helping her up, he grasped her thighs and opened her wide. On. The. Floor.

“Wait,” Lexie cried weakly as his head started its descent towards its presumable target. That spot that was shamefully, undeniably wet. She was stone cold sober now and although every nerve ending in her body was screaming for him not to stop, she owed him the truth about who she was. Either he hadn’t heard her or chose not to because the next instant she felt his tongue on her. Tasting, flicking, plunging in and out. Faster, harder, until she was incoherent with pleasure. Her toes curled, her whole body went into rictus, and she must have screamed before she went boneless.

“You were saying?” The wicked man was looking very smug. Lexie was too wrung out to care that her juices were still glistening on those sexy lips.

A phone ringing intruded into the relative silence of the room. Several seconds passed before Lexie recognized her ringtone.

“What time is it?” she asked with foreboding.

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Shit!” Lexie was galvanized into action. She jerked upright and felt the room momentarily sway. Nic cupped her elbow, but she wrenched it away. She rushed to the bed, rummaging through linens and pillows trying to look for her wrist bag.

“Here.” Nic handed her the bag calmly. “It was on the night table.”

With shaking fingers, she undid the clasp. Out tumbled her phone, credit card, and some cash. There were three missed calls from Theia and a text message.

GOOD MORNING YOUR HIGHNESS. REMINDING YOU THAT THE CHARITY LUNCHEON FOR THE CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL IS AT ELEVEN AM TODAY. COULD YOU PLEASE GIVE ME A RING ONCE YOU ARE UP?

She had just finished reading the message when the phone rang again.

“Lexie? Thank God,” murmured the usually unflappable Theia when she answered the call. “I have been trying to reach your room since eight this morning.”

Lexie deliberately turned her back on Nic, who was unashamedly listening to the end of her conversation, and kept her voice low. Her mouth was dry. “I’m sorry. I overslept.”