now. But my problem was that I’d never met the right girl. And now I have. Now I want to believe.’
Emotion and longing rioted through Charlie. She thought she might burst.
Rafe’s sad smile was breaking her heart. ‘Is it safe to kiss your lips?’ he whispered.
She knew she should step back, tell him no. If he kissed her mouth, heaven knew what else might happen.
But it was so hard to be sensible. To her dismay, she heard herself say, ‘I have a new lipstick for touch ups.’
Idiot.
It was all the invitation the Prince needed. Slipping his arms around Charlie’s waist, he gathered her closer, and now she could smell the expensive cloth of his jacket, the light cologne on his skin.
His lips found hers and her heart seemed to burst into flames. She tipped her head to access the dizzying pleasure, and worried, fleetingly, that her tiara might slip, but this worry and all others were shoved aside as Rafe’s lips worked their magic. His kiss was all-seeking and possessive, commanding every shred of her attention.
Happiness and hunger in equal parts rose through Charlie like a bubbling geyser. She no longer cared that she’d fallen under this Prince’s spell. She would happily hand him her heart on a platter.
With unforgivable ease, he had won her completely and, as his kiss deepened deliciously, a soft moan of deepest pleasure escaped her.
But the moan was cut short as the door burst open.
A woman’s voice yelled, ‘What the hell’s going on?’
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