The Prince's Texas Bride / The Reluctant Princess. Leanne Banks
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“I feel so much better now,” she said in a dry tone.
“You’re good at what you do. You’re just not accustomed to the way our press works. Just don’t talk to them until you learn the ropes.”
“Who’s going to teach me the ropes? Franz?” she asked with dread in her voice.
“No. My assistant or me. You can always call him,” he said. “You can always call me.” He couldn’t remember when he’d told any other woman such a thing.
The band eased into a slow, sensual tune. Stefan’s hands itched to touch her in ways he knew wouldn’t happen tonight. “Dance?” he asked, setting down his glass on one of the tables.
Meeting his gaze, she let him take her glass and do the same with his. Then she walked into his arms, and Stefan sighed at the sensation of her body close to his, where she belonged. He drank in the subtle spice and sweet combination of her scent. Her silky hair skimmed his jaw and her breasts brushed against his chest with each movement.
Holding her eased something inside him at the same time he felt need stretch inside him. He tried to ignore the need and focus on how good she felt. For a full moment, the only sounds were of the sultry song, their hushed breaths and in the background, ocean waves rolling into the surf.
“Have you ever had a more perfect moment than this?” she whispered, lifting her mouth just beneath his ear.
He searched his brain and came up empty. “No,” he murmured, pulling her even closer.
The song finally faded away, and she lifted her head, searching his eyes. The expression of wanting he saw there made his gut twist. The connection between them was shocking in its intensity. He lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss. She immediately responded, tasting of oranges, bourbon and something forbidden.
Although he was already aroused, he couldn’t resist feeding himself on her mouth. He felt her arms climb around his neck as she kissed him with equal intensity. He slid his own hand to the small of her back, bringing her intimately against him. He wondered if she would pull away. Instead, she wriggled against him. His heart stuttered in his chest.
“You make it difficult for me to show restraint,” he muttered against her mouth.
“Is that what I’m supposed to be doing? Helping you show restraint?” she asked, her voice husky, her lips already swollen. She grazed his neck with an almost kiss and another twist of need ricocheted through him, this one stronger than before.
“You need to understand that everything will change once we become lovers,” he told her.
“Is this the standard warning required by the advisers?” she asked, pulling back slightly with a sliver of wry amusement in her eyes.
“No,” he said. “It’s just me being straight with you.”
“Aren’t things already different between us?” she asked.
“Yes, but I am determined to be discreet. I don’t want you or your reputation to be affected.”
“Can we just make this between you and me?” she asked.
“My position makes it difficult,” he said.
“I don’t want the position. I want the man,” she said.
Her words nearly put him over the edge, nearly made him pick her up, lay her down on the couch and take her that moment. He’d spent a lifetime being the prince instead of a man. “You really don’t care about my title, do you?”
“To be perfectly honest, Stefan, I’d probably like you more without it,” she drawled.
A sliver of exultation rushed through him. “I like your honesty,” he said, lifting a strand of her hair. “I like you too much.”
Her eyes darkened in awareness. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one feeling this way.”
“No fear of that,” he said in a dry tone and gave in to the urge to sink his hands into her hair and pull her head toward him.
They kissed again and he linked one of his hands with hers.
Eve’s heart hadn’t beat regularly since she’d first laid eyes on Stefan tonight. She wasn’t sure when she would breathe normally again. The world was tilted upside down, the night was spinning and heaven help her, she liked it. She liked the way his mouth moved against hers. The way his body felt against hers. The way his voice felt against her ears and skin …
She wanted to feel more of his skin. More of him. Seeking his lips, she tugged at his shirt, unfastening one button, then two … She spread her hands over his chest and sighed at the indulgent luxury of feeling his muscles beneath her fingertips. He sighed, too, and the sound was more delicious than the most decadent chocolate. The sea air and the sound of the surf only added to the ambiance.
“You have muscles,” she said. “When do you ever get the chance to work out?”
His laugh rumbled through her. “Every morning at 4:30 a.m.”
She winced, still sliding her hands over his bare chest. “That’s insane.”
“And what time do you get up?”
“Five-thirty,” she said. “Compared to you, I’m a slacker.” She kissed him again. “But maybe if I had to deal with your advisers, I’d get up at four-thirty to work off some of my frustration to keep from wringing their skinny necks.”
He chuckled again. “Some of their necks are fat.”
Shaking her head, she sank her face into his bare shoulder and inhaled deeply. “I like the way you smell.”
“I’m not wearing cologne,” he said and lifted her head. The expression in his eyes was just this side of ravenous. “Eve, you’re not acting like a woman who wants me to hold back.”
Fighting a flutter of nerves, she licked her suddenly dry lips. Fish or cut bait, she told herself. “Maybe my actions are doing all the real talking.”
She felt him slide one of his hands all the way down her back and he pulled her against his arousal. He made sure she knew just how thoroughly he was aroused. “Are you sure? I want you to be sure.”
“Another disclaimer for the advisers?”
He narrowed his eyes. “No. For me.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m sure.” She smiled. “Ravish me.”
He shook his head. “What an invitation,” he said and pushed her dress down her shoulders. Three heartbeats later, her bra snapped loose and his mouth covered hers.
Eve knew she was venturing into new territory, but she was determined not to be shy about it. She wanted to feel everything. She wanted to feel bold and in control, but the truth was she felt vulnerable. Eve refused to give in to weakness.
Instead she focused on her senses. She traced her fingers through his crisp hair, down to his strong shoulders