Page 20 of Prince She Shouldn't Crave
Never, and he craved more of it.
He looked down on her, hair long and loose about her shoulders. Her skin smooth and golden. Plush lips a soft pink. So fresh and beautiful. The collar of his normally comfortable shirt became too tight, the room too hot. Even though he knew his rooms were perfectly climate controlled, he wanted to throw open a window and let in the cool night air. Instead, he took another sip of his drink. The heat of the whisky burned, hitting his stomach.
‘And you’re not unimportant either—what you think, what you feel,’ Lena said. ‘So where does the ambassador get off raising marriage with the man who’s one day going to be his king?’
There was a sharpness to her voice, a story there that he wanted to hear. And he found he wanted to know a great deal more about her. Her likes, dislikes. Her passions…
‘I assume it’s a message from my parents—a not so subtle hint via their friend, if you will.’
‘Our parents and their desire for children to marry to solve all their problems.’
‘You’ve had experience of this?’ he asked.
The corner of her mouth kicked up. It wasn’t a smile. There was sadness in that wry kind of grin of hers.
‘My mother thought if I married it’d sort out her issues. It didn’t seem to matter what I wanted, so I’m familiar with the sensation.’
‘What did your father think?’
Something about her closed off immediately. One minute her face was open. Warm. Sympathetic. The next, it was as if she were made of glass. Cool and brittle.
‘My father’s dead.’
He started forward, an ache in his chest. Feeling terrible for bringing back painful memories.
‘I’m so sorry.’
She shrugged. ‘He wasn’t much of a father. More a donor of genetic material. I’m surprised you don’t know that already, what with the investigations your palace would have done to ensure I…fit.’
He guessed she was right and that she’d been investigated closely, but he hadn’t bothered looking into it. If Lena had been cleared to come to an interview with him, the relevant checks hadn’t shown up anything of concern.
‘You’d have been vetted when you went to work with Isolobello’s royal family. Priscilla recommended you. That was enough for me. But I want to know what problems your mother thinks your marriage might solve.’
If there was something he could help with, it might ease the pressure on Lena. He didn’t know why he hated that thought—of her marrying someone else, whereas at the same time, he had an intense desire to see her in a wedding dress, a veil over her face, looking up at him… No, not at him. That wasnotwhere his thoughts were going. She was a beautiful woman, that was all, and she’d make a beautiful bride.
The air in the room seemed to get still and heated again. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the arm of the chair, loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Lena took another sip of her hot chocolate, then licked her lips, the pupils of her eyes wide and dark in the lower light of the room. Something heavy, palpable, weighed on him—the intensity of the situation, the desire to kiss her, to taste her. It was wrong. He was her employer. Yet, he also accepted in that moment that he was simply a man, and she was a beautiful woman. And what man wouldn’t want to kiss her, wouldn’t want to marry her, wouldn’t want to have her for ever?
But she remained quiet, the question unanswered.
‘That employment trial, your probation,’ he said.
Her eyes widened, her white teeth biting into her lower lip.
‘I think we both know you’ve passed it. I’ll ask my private secretary to have the official employment contracts drawn up.’
Her mouth broke into the most beautiful smile. Whilst he’d seen her smile before, this one was pure, unrestrained joy. It lit her whole face.
‘Thank you,’ she said, her eyes glittering. Were those tears? ‘You can’t know what this means to me.’
She came closer to him, a step. Did he step towards her as well? Gabe wasn’t sure. He might have imagined it, but he could almost feel the warmth from her body. His own, too hot. Everything tight, as if he were too big for his skin, as if he wanted to split in two and morph into something, somebody else. They were almost touching now, so close if he leaned down he could capture her mouth with his own. He might have imagined it, but her head tilted back. Lips sightly parted. He wanted to kiss her. Craving it more than his next breath. Did she want to kiss him?
A gentle rap sounded at the door, and the handle turned. The door cracked open, and Lena stood back. There was only one person who would ever walk in, the only other individual who had any entitlement to be in his personal quarters and space. One he’d texted after he’d arrived back at the house—his valet.
‘Pieter,’ he said.
‘Y-Your Highness.’ Gabe didn’t miss the slight hesitation. ‘I can leave—’
‘No,’ Lena said. ‘We were talking work, and it’s late, but maybe…’ She placed her cup on a side table and reached into the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out her phone. ‘We can take photographs of some unscripted moments. The public like you unscripted.’
