Page 15 of His Perfect Princess

And to my surprise, she smiled and whispered back, “And I will give you what you have been wanting, my prince.”

I almost didn’t make it back down the aisle. Her wit, her poise, her submissiveness, her joy in her own body…She was fooking perfect for me, and now she was my wife.

It was only remembering my duty to my position which kept me from whisking her away to take her virginity in a closet somewhere. I—we—were the future rulers of Faencairn. We had hours of dancing, our official presentation to my parents, and then the stupid cake-cutting, amongst other tedious traditions.

The only way I was going to make it through it was not to look into Clarissa’s please-fook-me eyes. Because I was the Crown Prince, and I needed to put Faencairn’s needs before my own.

No matter how much I needed her.

Chapter 7

Clarissa

“Ye ken, Rickard’s no’ going to leave unless ye ask him to.”

I was dancing with my new brother-in-law Wulf, whose voice was a low growl—much like his namesake—which I’d heard others considered quite erotic…though not to any woman not currently in love with the man’s brother.

“I beg your pardon?”

He chuckled as he spun me through the waltz. “Rickard’s all about duty and devotion to the country and being proper, and all that shite.”

“And you are not all about those things.” It wasn’t a question, because Rickard had told me enough about this younger brother to know Wulf enjoyed thumbing his nose at what was expected. “But I suspect you could be, if you applied yourself.”

“Applied myself?” He swung me in a circle. “I’m the head of the Castle Guard. Did ye see the size of my muscles?”

“Well, I am pleased you exercise something,” I quipped, “since you clearly have no interest in diplomacy.”

“Is wooing women no’ diplomacy?”

“Not your brother’s new wife.” It was fun to tease him, to watch him flush with embarrassment as my barb hit home.

But he chuckled. “Fair point. But my point is, Rick’s stuck-up enough to stay until the bitter end of this bloody affair, when I can see how badly ye both want to sneak away. He’s likely been all dutiful and kept his hands off ye…?”

If only you knew.

“He has been aggravatingly…proper,” I hedged.

My new brother-in-law chuckled again and spun me through a turn. “Aye, that sounds like Rick. But since the vows, he hasnae been able to stop staring at ye. He’s doing it right now.”

I peeked over Wulf’s shoulder, and he was right. Rickard might’ve been speaking with a group of dignitaries and their wives, but his stare bored into me. I felt my heart speed up and my breath catch.

Even from across the room, he was labeling me as his. Liquid warmth flooded my core. I wasn’t wearing bloomers beneath my wedding gown. I knew he’d approve.

“So…” Wulf was not-so-subtly dancing me back across the reception’s ballroom floor to deposit me near my husband. “All I’m saying is that I think the only thing Rickard might love more than his duty is ye, so if ye want to sneak away, ye’re going to have to be the one to ask him.”

He loves me?

The thought made me breathless—or perhaps that was merely Wulf’s overly energetic dancing. My chest was tight, but I had to conclude it was excitement.

Rickard loved me!

How could I do anything except love him in return?

Wulf whirled us to a halt right beside Rickard, gave an outrageously mocking bow—complete with hand-waving and one foot cocked at a funny angle—and disappeared.

I might’ve been giggling when I turned to Rickard, but my laughter died when I saw the heat in those gorgeous blue eyes of his. Even though we were surrounded by people—his friends? I didn’t know—he was still looking at me like he wanted to make love to me right there on the dance floor.

Oh dear. Perhaps I should have worn bloomers after all; I could feel my thighs becoming damp.

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