Page 39 of Prince of Her Heart
She shoved the sheets away and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, jamming her feet into her fuzzy, well-worn bunny slippers.
Last night had been…
Unbelievable.Stunning.Earth-shattering.
Ramzi hadn’t just made love to her—he’d worshipped her.Every kiss, every touch had felt like it was meant just for her.He’d listened to her, responded to her, whispered to her in the dark like she was the only woman who had ever mattered.Her body still tingled at the memory.
But that was lust.Just lust.
Right?
She buried her face in her hands and groaned.It had been five in the morning when I climbed back in the window.Five!No wonder she felt like her head was full of mashed potatoes.
Clearly, she was overtired.That explained her emotional whiplash.And the… longing.It was just exhaustion messing with her rational brain.
Tabitha stood up and tugged a giant sweatshirt over the tank top and pajama shorts she’d thrown on when she got home.As she padded toward the stairs, she rehearsed what she’d say.
Something cool.Dignified.
Something like,“Last night was fun, but it can’t happen again.”
Yes.That sounded good.Sensible.
Maybe even add an apology for climbing into his room like a delinquent teenager.If she hadn’t done that, there wouldn’t be this awkwardness.No elephant in the room.No tangled sheets or memories of the way his voice had rasped her name as he—
Nope.Don’t go there, Tabitha.
This weekend was about helping her mother.That’s it.A fake engagement.Strategic.Temporary.
What happened last night?That had been a mistake.
A glorious, moan-inducing, body-worshipping mistake.
Tabitha reached the kitchen, zeroed in on the coffee machine, and opened the cabinet above it, hunting for her favorite mug.Of course, her parents had thirty different novelty mugs in various sizes.For a two-person household, it was absurd.
She muttered under her breath as she dug toward the back.“Why do you need a mug that says‘Don’t talk to me until this is full’if it holds forty ounces of caffeine?”
Finally, she found it: the chipped mug shaped like a cartoon monkey doing yoga.Her favorite.
But as she pulled it out, a deep voice behind her said, “Nice slippers.”
Tabitha startled hard.The mug slipped from her fingers, tumbling through the air in a slow-motion horror show.
Before she could even yelp, Ramzi moved.
He stepped forward and snatched the mug out of the air one-handed, saving it with infuriating grace.
Of course he did.
Because apparently, evenphysicsfound him sexy.
“You left me this morning,” he murmured, setting the mug on the counter behind her.
Then he stepped in, bracing his hands on either side of her, locking her in.
“I just… umm…” Her eyes flicked to his mouth, her voice trailing off as the memory of his kisses, his hands, his body—all of it—slammed into her like a wave.She shouldn’t be thinking about how much she wanted to kiss him again.But she was.
If they kissed again, would they be able to stop?
