Page 17 of Royal Catch
“And no,” she says, standing much too far away.
“Why not?” I bark. I usually have better control, but need claws at me.
She huffs. “Because you don’t get everything you want when you want it,Your Highness.” She says that last part with pure contempt. I’ve never been addressed so rudely. I still want her.
She goes on, her hands gesturing wildly. “Before you were so rude, I was going to suggest you help me win the game, and in return, you give me some compensation to quietly disappear.”
I blink. “You want me to pay you to leave?”You don’t want to marry me?
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her eyes shift to the side before meeting my eyes. “Reasons.”
“I need a bride regardless. There will be no compensation. The best candidate will win.”
She looks to the ceiling, her hands in fists, apparently trying to get her temper under control. She levels a fiery look my way. “And you don’t care who that is?”Is she jealous?
“Of course I care, but it’s not a simple thing. There’s a way it must be done. You must understand adhering to royal traditions.”
Her lips form a flat line. “I don’t understand anything about the way you do things here. Pitting princesses against each other? You don’t like this any more than I do, so let’s work together to end it.”
“There are circumstances you don’t understand, and I’m sorry, but I can’t explain any further than that.”
She throws her hands up. “Fine! But don’t expect me to help you out with your lusty urges. I’m a virgin.” She looks away, like she’s lying. No one with her brash open sensuality could possibly be inexperienced. Would a virgin seek out my bedroom? Plus she’s got to be in her twenties, which is a long time to still be a virgin.
I close the distance. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.” She slowly backs up, veering closer to the foot of the four-poster bed. “It’s the rule in my kingdom. Princesses must be virgins upon marriage.”
If she is a virgin, then I absolutely should not touch her. I should show her the door, eliminate temptation.
“Polly.” I capture her wrists and hold them behind the wooden post at the foot of my bed, leaning into her space. I can’t seem to help myself. I breathe in her spicy floral scent, dying for a taste of her.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, cleavage peeking out of the top of her robe. Her face tips up, meeting my eyes with raw desire.
I slowly lean down, and she keeps her eyes open, her pupils are black and large, gold specks in the dark irises. Beautiful. Her lashes lower as I brush my lips over hers lightly, once, twice. I release her wrists and lift my head, giving her ample time to step away.
She makes a frustrated sound, grabs my head, and kisses me again.Yes!Her lips are yielding, soft, and she tastes like mint and something uniquely her, a spicy edge. My world narrows down to this kiss, almost innocent in its delicious decadence. A slow carnal invitation to more. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, and hers slides along mine. Slow, deep, wet kisses. I’m drowning in sensation, drunk on her lusciousness.
She lifts her hips, pressing herself against me, and the kiss turns raw, carnal, hungry. I slip my leg between hers, giving her pressure, and her head tilts back on a moan.
Every nerve ending crackles to life as I dive in for more of her luscious mouth, the blood roaring in my ears. Closer, I need to get closer. I press my aching hardness against her softness, the urge to claim her powerful, a primal instinct that clouds my thinking. I’m nothing but throbbing raw need. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life, and I want her now. A small niggling worry over her virgin status gives me pause.
I break the kiss, and she remains leaning against the post, her lips rosy, her cheeks flushed. So fucking sexy.
“I want you.” My voice is rough with lust. “Stay the night or leave now.”
Our gazes lock, hot, intense. She’s taking my measure, and I’m teetering on the sharp edge of need. Seconds tick by, the tension palpable in the air.
She shoves me back with both hands on my chest. “And that’s my cue.” She walks briskly toward the door. Then she stops, turns, and says softly, “Goodnight, Gabriel.”
She said my name. Not Your Highness. And she said it with a hint of longing.
“Goodnight, Polly. The offer stands for another night if you change your mind. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
The door quietly shuts behind her.
