Page 84 of Insatiable Park Avenue Prince

My brain exploded at the notion that anyone would own something so expensive so young, let alone at sixteen. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. Prettysweet, huh? It’s a 1962 Jaguar E-Type.”

“Jesus. Who are you?”

Donovan got out to open the trunk and winked. “A prince, baby.”

I shook my head in disbelief and stored my bag, then climbed into the passenger seat. Donovan got back in, reached for the back of my neck, and pulled me in for a kiss. Greedy for a taste of that sweet-talking mouth, I swept my tongue along his lower lip.

Donovan hummed as he pushed away from me. “You look good in my car.”

I chuckled, resting my arm on the open window frame. “I’m pretty sure anyone would look good in this car.”

“Maybe, but I’m only looking at you.”

My heart thumped a little harder, because I knew exactly how he felt. Ever since he’d walked into my life, it was like no one else existed, and I was okay with that. He was the only one I wanted.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

Donovan shook his head and put the car into gear. “Nope, it’s a surprise.”

“I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises. I’m still getting over this one.” I smoothed my hand over the impeccable leather upholstery on the doors, the same cherry red as the seats. “Donovan, this car is—”

“Gorgeous?”

“Fuck yes.” I laughed. “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just promise to petmelike that later.” Donovan pulled into traffic and maneuvered the car like a dream through the Friday afternoon congestion, and I wasn’t sure why, but the fact he could drive so well was a complete and utter shock.

That’d teach me not to stereotype.

Once we got through the city and exited the tunnel, Donovan looked at me, a grin on his handsome face.

“Good thing you went with hair up today,” he shouted as he weaved between several cars to get in the lane he needed, then finally we broke free of the major congestion and hit the parkways.

The sun was shining, but with fall here to stay, the temperature was as close to perfect as it could get.

I sang along to the music blaring from the speakers, happy to watch Donovan as he drove, and that was when I realized I didn’t care where we were going or staying this weekend—as long as it was with him.

About an hour or so later, the scenery around us began to change from the city and parkways to lush greenery that went on for miles. Donovan drove us down roads canopied by gorgeous maples turning every shade of red, brown, and yellow. When he slowed the car to a crawl and turned off the main road, my jaw hit the floor of his Jag.

“Holy shit.” I sat forward, staring up the gravel entryway lined with high-clipped hedges and screened what I was assuming was a massive property from prying eyes. “What is this place?”

“Avalon Castle.”

I glanced over to see Donovan grinning.

“Thisis where your show is?”

“Yep. It’s also where we’re staying this weekend.”

I could see some kind of gated entrance up ahead. As we drove up to it, a man in a suit and tie stepped out to greet us.

“Welcome to Avalon Castle.”

“Thank you,” Donovan said as though nothing about this was unusual to him at all. Hell, for all I knew, his family owned a place like this.

“We’re here for the Lemaire Fashion Show,” he added. “We’re staying in one of your suites for the weekend.”

---