The Mechanic - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,83

the grim silence in the town square, catching the prince’s attention. He makes an abrupt about-face and walks toward me until I can smell his freshly shaven skin. Up close, it’s hard not to be a little taken with how ridiculously handsome he is. It should be a crime to look that beautiful when you’re scowling. My heart slams against my chest as I take in his appearance, the odd juxtaposition of an extremely fit body wearing a midnight-blue doublet with gold-studded buttons. There’s a slim, black belt tied around his waist, and black leather boots gliding up his calves. The doublet splits into two wings, and I admire the snugness of his breeches for a moment before realizing I can see the bulge between his legs.

His penis.

“Eyes up, darling.”

The crowd titters as a violent blush creeps up my neck.

I just got caught staring at Prince Liam’s cock.

“I wasn’t—I’m not—”

He gives me a carnal smile. “Staring at my cock? Your prince forgives you.”

“You’re not my prince,” I say automatically.

His eyes narrow as he fingers the camera around my neck. “Are you referring to the fact you’re a tourist?”

“That’s right.”

“Well that’s a blooming shame. You’re absolutely right. There are laws stopping me from doing whatever I want to you.” He squints in a feigned expression of confusion. “Right?”

Fuck.

A smile staggers over his handsome face as I stand there clam-like. “What’s your name?”

“Daisy.”

He leans forward suddenly, and his wicked voice whispers in my ear. “Pretty name for such a dirty girl.”

“I’m not dirty.”

“Says the girl who was checking me out.”

“I was looking at your outfit.” My face burns as I become aware at how lame I sound.

Blood roars in my ears as Prince Liam laughs softly. When he speaks again, it’s in a vastly matured voice. “I would like you to come to the castle with me.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Wow.

I’m speechless. My first day in the country and I’m being invited into Harronvale Palace by the prince? My irritation with him vanishes as I think of the insider piece I could write.

“Sure. I mean, I’d love to.”

“Excellent,” he says in a warm voice as he gently takes my arm and leads me away from the line of women.

“Can I ask what for?”

He gives me an incredulous look. “I’m asking you to the castle for a dirty romp in the sheets, love.”

I stop in my tracks, ripping my arm out of his grasp. “Are you serious?”

He doesn’t lose the shocked expression. “What do you think I wanted to do with you? Have tea and biscuits?” He laughs at the very idea.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m just a man with very particular tastes.”

“The fact you think I want to touch you after you insulted those girls is really rich.”

But suddenly I think about those hazel eyes locked on mine, as I imagine him grabbing a handful of my breasts just like he did with the girl in the tabloid.

Jesus, Daisy!

“I don’t think, I know you want me. You were ogling my cock just a few seconds ago.”

Christ. I practically hear my skin burning. “I wasn’t ogling.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

Goddamn it. The way he says luv sets my nerves ablaze.

Don’t tell him to shut up.

I glare at him. “I’m not interested.”

His voice drops down to a whisper. “You know, I love this playing-hard-to-get act. You’ve no idea how refreshing it is after having tits thrown in my face my whole life.”

“It’s not an act. You disgust me.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

“Every woman wants to fuck a prince,” he says, grazing his fingertips over the pulse pounding in my neck. “You want me to dress you up in jewelry. I can just imagine a beautiful string of sapphires around your neck, bouncing on your tits as I bury my cock inside you. Maybe a pearl necklace to go with the sapphires.”

Slap!

Prince Liam staggers back as a burn stings my hand. It’s not until I hear the shocked gasps of the crowd and see the bright red mark on his face that I realize I just slapped the motherfucking Prince of Anglefell.

I open my mouth to apologize to him—to say something—

Liam turns toward his guards. “Seize her.”

The crowd goes fucking nuts. I’m handcuffed and marched through them. They call me every filthy name for a woman you’ve ever heard, and when they’ve hurled every insult at me that they can think of, they scream for my death.

“Whore!”

“Off with her head!”

“Choke on his cock, bitch!” Wow.

I wheel around to look at a girl my age whose face is almost as red as her hair.

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