Page 18 of A Royal Disaster
Elena must’ve felt it, too, because she bolted from the vehicle before Jack could throw it in park, leaving Liam with nothing but a prime view of her exquisite backside. His cock stirred, growing hard at the thought of sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.
Bollocks.
This wasn’t the time to be fantasizing about his fake girlfriend’s luscious curves. He needed to stay focused. Otherwise their first date would also be their last and his parents would have him engaged by summer’s end.
Like hell.
Liam slipped out of the car, gesturing for his bodyguards to keep their distance. He was accustomed to the lack of privacy, but Elena wasn’t, and he didn’t want to make the situation worse by leaving her further exposed.
Elena fumbled with the studio lock as he approached, the keys jangling in her unsteady hand. “If you want to back out of the arrangement, I’ll understand,” she said, keeping her gaze fixed on the stubborn lock.
“Why would I want to back out?” he asked, closing his hand over hers and slipping the keys from her grasp. With his other hand, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I had a lovely evening with a funny, beautiful woman, which is far better than spending my night eating room service while Fin badgers me about trade prospects.”
The truth of his words surprised him. Aside from the humiliating grand finale, it was the most pleasant evening he’d had in ages. Elena was an excellent conversationalist and he’d enjoyed their little sparring match, even if she had called him out for being a one upper.
“Ay bendito.” She cracked a smile. Barely. “Not the dreaded trade prospects.”
“The man is relentless. All work and no play.” Liam shuddered, although he was something of a workaholic himself. Hard to be anything else when you were the crown prince. Being royal wasn’t something you could just turn off or leave at the door when five o’clock rolled around. He was always expected to be “on,” which was probably why the mess at the restaurant had thrown him for a loop. And if he was thrown, he could only imagine how Elena was feeling. Shit. He could’ve handled the situation better. Done more to prepare her. “Look, I know it’s hard being thrust into the spotlight, but it gets easier over time.”
“Really?” she asked, arching a slender brow. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to completely humiliate yourself in front of a sexy prince and his four billion fans?”
Liam smirked and leaned in close. “You think I’m sexy?”
Elena rolled her eyes and planted a hand on her hip, a spark of passion flaring deep in her eyes. “You’re the World’s Most Eligible Bachelor. You obviously know people find you sexy.”
“Yes,” he said, skimming a hand down her bare arm as the citrusy scent of her shampoo toyed with his senses, “but now I know you find me sexy, too.”
It was unexpected but certainly not unwelcome.
“Whatever. You still haven’t answered my question.” She paused, worrying her bottom lip. “You’re good at that, you know. Dodging questions, I mean.”
“I’ve had extensive media training.” He hated to admit it, but it had saved his arse on more than one occasion. Too bad his brother hadn’t paid more attention during those lessons. It could’ve saved the entire family quite a few headaches. “In a few weeks you won’t even notice the cameras. Or the security detail,” he added as her gaze flicked to the car where Jack and Ethan stood, scanning the quiet street.
“Doubtful.” Elena grabbed the key ring from his hand and shoved a key in the lock, giving it a sharp twist. There was a loudthwackas the dead bolt slid and the door fell open, jangling the overhead bells. “I’m not like you.” She turned and offered him the kind of saccharine smile that could separate a man from his senses. “I think we’ve already established you’re Mr. Perfect.”
Not bloody likely. If he were perfect, he’d have found a solution to his marriage problem that didn’t include flaunting a fake American girlfriend before the tabloids.
“I believe I said I was the perfect royal, not the perfect man,” he said, giving her a wink. “That just means I know how to apologize when I’ve botched things.”
Elena’s lips twitched. “Pretty sure that also makes you the perfect man.”
If only his life were that simple. “I think you’re missing the point.”
“Which is?” she asked, tilting her head and batting her lashes innocently.
Liam shrugged. “I’ve had a lifetime of training, and even I screw up with the press sometimes.”
“Name one,” she said, eyes narrowed as if she could suss out the truth with a mere look.
“When I was five, I wore long trousers to the Royal Egg Hunt. It caused quite the scandal.” He chuckled, remembering how angry his mum had been when she saw the headlines. The royal correspondent forThe Daily Newshad been banned from the palace for a month afterward, and he hadn’t owned another pair of trousers until his eighth birthday.
“Seriously?” Elena threw up her hands. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Your biggest embarrassment was a fashion faux pas?”
It was a valid point. Comparing their problems was like comparing the imperial and metric systems. It was all about perspective. Still, he forced a grin, determined to keep the mood light. “What can I say? I learned to avoid bad press at an early age.”
Elena snorted and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Mostly,” he amended, trying to ignore the swell of her breasts even as he realized he should’ve messaged Fin about the incident at the restaurant. The PR team hated being the last to know when things went sideways, but he’d been more concerned with protecting Lena, and it was too late to do anything about it now. “Growing up in the spotlight isn’t easy. There’s always someone watching, waiting for you to screw up so they can profit off your mistakes.” He paused. He’d be a fool to say more, but there was something about Elena that made him want to open up to her. It had been so long since he’d let anyone in—with good reason—but it was a hell of a way to live. “When I was at school, I confided in a friend about a rough patch my family was experiencing. The following week, news of my parents’ marital trouble was plastered all over the tabloids.” To this day, Their Majesties had no idea he’d been the leak for that particular story, but he’d never forgotten the shame of his naïvety. “Fact is, if you screw up, someone’s going to leak it to the press, and you rarely see it coming.”
