The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,71

Christmas, you’ll be begging me to make you my wife.”

I tilt my head back, bringing my lips closer to his as I ask, “Is that a challenge, Dimples?”

“It’s a promise, princess,” he whispers. And then he kisses me, and my laughter becomes another sigh and then a moan as he draws me against him and takes my breath away.

His tongue slips between my lips, stroking mine, retreating and advancing, teasing me until I wrap my arms tight around his neck and demand what I want.

What I need.

Him. All of him. And his kiss—deep and hard, a promise that this is real. That he means every word he just said.

“Yes,” I breathe as his hand slides up my thigh, under the hem of my dress. “Touch me.”

“Don’t you have to meet Sabrina in fifteen minutes?” he asks, his fingers teasing along the elastic of my panties, making my inner walls clench.

“Yes, but think of all the trouble we could get into in fifteen minutes,” I say, squirming in his arms, desperate to get his fingers where I need them.

But he pulls away, taking my upper arms and holding me at a distance. “No. I refuse to think about that.”

My lips turn down hard. “Why not?”

“Because if I think about that and I keep kissing you, I’m going to take you up against the wall.”

I grin, and Nick laughs, releasing me and taking another step back. Pointing a warning finger at my face, he says, “No, bad Alexandra. Our first time isn’t going to be a quickie in your office.”

The words penetrate the lust haze fogging my thoughts.

My office.

“Right, we haven’t finished talking about that either,” I say. “I don’t want you to give up your job because you think it’s the only way to keep me safe.”

“Safer,” he interjects. “You won’t be truly safe until you’re retired, but I can live with the danger of a field office director.”

I prop my hands on my hips. “Well, that’s fine for you, but I don’t know if I can live with taking your job. You love Union Ten, too. I don’t want to rob you of that.”

His gaze softens. “Thanks. But I’m thrilled with my new gig. And honestly, I think I’m getting the better deal here—a chance to help people even more directly than I did with Union Ten, more time to spend with friends and family, and a gorgeous wife who will be perfectly content for me to stay home with the kids when they’re young while she goes back to work.”

Something flutters in my chest, but it isn’t the baby fear I felt every time Gerg talked about starting a family.

It’s something less familiar, but nice. Very nice.

“I might only want one,” I warn Nick, trying to sound stern but grinning so hard I ruin the effect.

“One would be wonderful,” he says, beaming back at me.

“And that’s if we actually end up working out. I’m telling you, there’s a very real chance you might find me unbearable after a while. Most men do.”

“Most men are fucking idiots.” He steps in again, sliding both arms around my waist. “And just FYI, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that to scare me away.”

I link my hands together behind his neck. “Good.”

“Very good,” he echoes as he kisses me again.

It’s a sweeter kiss than the first one, a slow brush of his lips against mine, an exploration. A gentle challenge I answer with a whispered promise, “Tonight. My room. Midnight. Everyone else should be asleep by then.”

He pulls back to arch a displeased brow. “We’re keeping this a secret?”

“Just for a little while. Until we know for sure.”

“Until you know for sure,” he corrects. “I’m already completely on board.”

“We’ll see,” I say. “You haven’t seen me at my worst. Like after this baby shower, for example. I’m sure I’ll be intensely cranky.”

He grins. “You’re cute when you’re cranky. Like a kitten thrown in a bathtub.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’m going to throw you in a bathtub.”

“Yes, please,” he says.

We end up kissing again, only coming up for air when Sabrina texts to ask where I am and to threaten to strangle me if I make her late to the shower.

“I have to run. Literally.” I push up on tiptoe, pressing a kiss to Nick’s cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

“My absolute pleasure,” he says, calling after me as I dash for the stairs. “I’ll tell Neville you’ll start on Monday!”

“All right, if you insist,” I call back to him. “But