Page 16 of The Princess and Her Mercenary

She leaned into him. “You've made that abundantly clear by now. I got it big guy. You want to have sex with me.”

He shook his head and said, “No, you don't understand.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t want to have sex with me? Because if you’re after my jewels, you’re going to have to fight me for them, then pry them out of my cold dead hands.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Yeah, I wanna have sex with you. Have from the moment I saw you in that stupid Twisted Sisters T-shirt and ripped up jeans.”

“Well that’s a relief, but you need to be more respectful of the Twisted Sisters. They educated me in a way dozens of tutors never could. 80’s metal is as close to nirvana as I’ll ever get.”

He growled at her, “Could you focus for a minute, trying to say something important.”

“Of course!” she said brightly, turning her body toward his. “I’ve been known to sit still and listen for upwards of five whole minutes!”

“You need a spanking, Princess.”

She sighed and shrugged. “Promises, promises.”

“Damn it,” he snapped. “What I’m trying to say is, I want you to want to be with me.” He paused, letting it sink in, before he continued, “Will you come with me? Will you leave the country with me willingly?”

Slowly the grin faded from her face, but not in a bad way. Or at least he hoped not. She was just thinking over his proposal, watching him with those big, thoughtful and intelligent eyes. Finally, she nodded. “I want you too. Right from the beginning, when I saw you wearing those green pants with the pockets and you had all those muscles rippling beautifully in your ugly T-shirt. And those boots, ew, not even remotely in fashion anymore. Oh, and guns should never be considered accessories.”

Ignoring most of what she said, he asked, “Why didn't you say anything, if you wanted me from the beginning?”

“Why didn't you say anything?” she countered.

“Thought I made my feelings pretty fucking clear.”

She glared at him and shook her head. “Storming around, grabbing me and ordering me about is not flirtation.”

He put his hand up against her neck, then gripped her trying to get her attention. “You need to answer my question.”

She looked at him with innocent eyes. “What question?”

He growled in annoyance. “The question of whether you come with me willingly or not.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you're going to make me come with you anyway, aren't you?”

“I want you to agree to come with me.”

“But why does it matter?” she asked. “You’ll just do your own thing anyway.”

He stared at her. He didn't know how to give her an answer that would satisfy her. Finally, he said, “It just matters.”

She looked past him out the window over his shoulder. She seemed to be thinking about it. Then she said, “Yes, I'll come with you willingly.”

He eased the grip on her shoulder, a grin spreading across his lips. He never imagined it would feel this good to know that she wanted him as bad as he wanted her. He knew from day one that this woman was it for him, that he was a goner for her. There could be no others. She was too perfect, with her long legs, her quick wit, her lips, her silly snobbery, her haughty attitude. It all spoke to his dick like nothing else ever had. He would have taken her, it was true. But having her agreement, it felt like the fucking cherry on top of the biggest hot fudge sundae out there.

“I have conditions though,” she said, regaining his attention.

He grinned at her. “Whatever my Princess wants my Princess will get.”

He dragged her against his chest and kissed her; a full on, exuberant, tongue twisting celebration of a kiss. She kissed him back with enthusiasm, her arms wrapped so tightly around his neck he thought she’d strangle him if she had enough strength in her.

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