The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,44
a curve in the path, and I pick up my pace. We’re not close enough to hear what they’re saying—or for them to hear Zan—but I’m not taking any chances in her current condition.
When she starts to speak again, I dip my head, cutting her off with a kiss.
I expect her to freeze or push me away, but instead, she melts even faster than she did the last time my lips touched hers, murmuring, “Yes, kissing. Kissing is the best,” against my mouth.
Laughing softly between brushes of my lips onto hers, I ask, “Kissing in general or kissing me in particular?”
“You,” she says with a happy sigh. “You’re ridiculous.”
I pull back with a huff, doing my best to watch the trail ahead and her face at the same time. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to a man kind enough to carry you home.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she slurs, her lids drooping over her glazed eyes. “I meant it in the good way. You’re so good it’s just…ri-dicki-lus.” She giggles. “It sounds dirty if you say it that way. Ri-dick-oo-lus.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say fondly, laughing as she squinches one eye closed and glares at me with the other. “What’s that? Your best impression of an angry penis?”
She gulps in a breath, then erupts into laughter, giggling so hard she exhausts herself, and her head falls back onto my shoulder.
Finally, she wheezes, “No, it was the evil eye, but that’s amazing. From now on, I’m going to call it the evil penis.” She sniffs. “Or maybe the evil penis eye? Which sounds better, do you think?”
“I think we should save that very important decision until you’re sober.”
“I am sober,” she says. “Very…”
“Very what?” I prompt.
I’m answered by a soft, grunting snore so cute I can’t bear to wake her up right away. I’ll have to keep her awake until I’m sure she’s not in danger of an overdose, but I give myself a moment to memorize that sweet little snuffle, secretly hoping I get to hear it again before we leave the island.
Once we do, I doubt I’ll have occasion to be around a sleeping Zan again.
The thought makes me sad, so I lean down to Zan and whisper, “Angry penis.”
She snorts, already laughing before she’s fully awake. “So funny. Kiss me again, funny person.”
So I do. Even though I shouldn’t.
She isn’t in her right mind, but surely, a little kissing never hurt anyone.
“You make me feel things,” she whispers as I pause at the base of the stairs to our room, shifting positions to be sure I don’t hit her head on the side of the stairwell.
“You make me feel things, too,” I confess. “Kind of always have.”
Her eyes widen, and she blinks like an intoxicated owl. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I…um.” I take a deep breath. I should shut the hell up, but she likely won’t remember this conversation tomorrow anyway. “Actually, I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”
“Aw,” she says with a wicked grin. “You’re going to regret telling me that when you’re sober.”
“Probably,” I admit. And then I kiss her again, deciding not to tell her I only had one sip of my drink.
Tomorrow, I’ll blame it all on the alcohol.
Or…maybe I won’t.
Maybe I’ll tell her the truth again in the morning and see what she thinks about it when she’s sober, too.
Dangerous thoughts.
Nearly as dangerous as the irresistible woman in my arms.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexandra
The world is a blur, and time is not my friend.
Kissing Nick doesn’t go on for nearly long enough, for example. His sexy, delicious, to-die-for lips are there and gone again, leaving me in despair as he starts up the stairs. “Not enough kissing,” I protest, clinging to his shirt. “Not nearly enough.”
“That’s what all the girls say,” he teases.
I wrinkle my nose, squinting to focus on his face with the stairwell tiles waving and smearing behind his head. “I don’t like other girls. Especially the ones you kiss.”
“Is that right?” he asks, curiosity in his dark gaze.
Or at least I think that’s curiosity. It’s hard to tell with all the spinning.
So much spinning, and time still isn’t playing nice.
It only takes a few seconds to get to our room, but I’m trapped in a freezing cold shower—still fully clothed—for an eternity.
“Let me out. I’m better,” I whimper from the shower floor, where I’m sitting with my legs curled tight to my chest, the better to retain what body heat I have left. “I promise.”