Page 44 of Royal Charmer
“Alice, I haven’t seen one smile from you in an hour.”
My jaw goes slack. “You count how many times I smile?”
“I notice them.” He gives a lock of my hair a tug, his smile boyishly charming. “They make me happy.”
I blink, completely thrown by this incredibly romantic-sounding thing. “Why do my smiles make you happy?”
“Because I remember how sad you were when we first met.”
I frown and lower my gaze, disappointed. He’s pitying me. I was a mess then, and he’s only been trying to cheer me up.
He tips my chin up. “Your smiles make my heart beat faster.”
I gasp. It’s so poetic, so romantic. “They do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. Maybe because I like to see you happy.” His thumb brushes over my lower lip, and shock ripples through me at the intimate touch. “You have a very sweet smile.”
The air buzzes between us, the blood rushing through my veins.
“Have you ever been engaged before?” I blurt.
“No.”
“You’re very good at it. I’m enjoying it so much more than my real engagement. Probably because you’re pretending to be so besotted with me.”Tell me if it’s real.
His brows lower. “Your real fiancé wasn’t besotted with you?”
I don’t even laugh at his use of mybesottedword because it’s just sad. My real fiancé should’ve been besotted with me. “At first I thought he was. He was very attentive and, you know, there were the love poems.”
He scowls. “The confetti.”
“Yes, but with you, it’s…nice.” I swallow hard. “I guess you live up to your charming world’s most eligible royal bachelor reputation.” He scoffs, and I backtrack immediately, “Not that your rep is all there is to you. You’re one of the lucky ones to have both charm and substance.”
He steps closer, his voice silky. “Not everyone sees that.”
My body hums in anticipation. “I see that.”
He pulls me into his arms, his lips brushing my ear before he whispers, “Thank you, Alice, for seeing me.”
My knees go weak, desire unfurling within me. I can feel all of him, my softness pressed against his hardness. The heat of him, his intoxicating manly scent. I want him, I truly do, and my body doesn’t seem to care that my heart is still rattling around in my chest in pieces.
I have to ask. “Are we still playing the game?”
“No.”
I lift my gaze to his, my heart in my throat. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
I look away. I don’t know either. I’m beyond confused and frustrated for some reason. I’m not sure if my frustration is aimed at him or me. We’re not playing a game, yet neither of us knows what that means. Someone should know. This is getting complicated and messy. I don’t want to deal with complicated and messy.
I step away and take a deep breath, which does nothing to calm me. “I’m so tense right now.”
He turns me so my back is to his front and brushes my hair over my shoulder, letting his fingers trail lightly over my skin in a hot shivery path. Then he places his warm hands on my bare shoulders and leans close, his voice a deep rumble in my ear. “How about a massage?”
