Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,69

seen in too long washes over her. “Thank you,” she squeaks out. “That means a lot.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

I hold her gaze for a moment, then clear my throat, falling back into my Prince Gabriel persona. “So what do you say? Can I take you on a date? Get to know you better? Allow you to get to know Prince Gabriel?”

“I’d really like that.” A weight seems to lift off her, allowing me a glimpse of the carefree girl I once made scale a fence so we could check out an abandoned drive-in along Route 66, despite the ‘No Trespassing’ signs.

“I’d really like that, too. I promise to do everything to make it a first date you’ll never forget.” I slide my chair back and stand, buttoning my jacket. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” Grabbing her hand, I bring it up to my lips, savoring the feeling of her smooth skin. “Until then, gorgeous, I’ll be counting down the minutes.” I reluctantly release my hold on her and turn, one of the protection officers jumping up from a nearby table and following.

As I approach the sidewalk, a dark SUV pulls up, the officer opening my door for me. I’m about to get in, but hesitate, meeting Creed’s gaze behind the wheel.

“Give me one minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

A man on a mission, I stride back toward Nora’s table, ignoring my sister as she sits beside her.

Nora shoots her wide eyes toward mine. “Did you forget something?”

“Yes.”

She glances around the table. “What? I don’t—”

“This.”

In one swift move, I pull her up from her chair and yank her body against mine. Not giving her a moment to protest, I dig my free hand into her hair and lower my mouth toward hers.

“Anderson,” she says quickly, placing her hand on my chest, stopping me.

I search her face, petrified I’ll see the same woman who left me alone in the garden last night. Instead, a sly smile greets me.

“What about the rules forbidding public displays of affection?” she teases. “From where I’m standing, we are most certainly in public right now.” She gestures subtly with her head.

I look where she indicates and see an interested group of onlookers. It’s not a huge mob, but people are taking pictures. I have no doubt our location has already been leaked on social media.

All sense of reason tells me to retreat, to remember the rules and my place. But why should I have to hide my love for this woman? Because some prude centuries ago thought it improper to show the world what love looks like? I’m done with that.

Eyes narrowing, I tighten my grip. “Fuck the rules,” I growl, my lips covering hers.

She’s uncertain at first, seemingly at war with how to respond, what kind of backlash she’ll face. I respond by holding her tighter. My tongue swipes against her mouth, begging her to kiss me back.

That’s all it takes for her to relax, parting her lips for me. At that first taste, she moans, running her fingers through my hair and tugging at it.

Cheers and whistles echo around us, but neither one of us seems to care. All we do care about is this moment. Of not permitting anyone else to dictate how we should love each other. Of no longer hiding our love from the public.

I pull away and stare at her in awe, my skin tingling. This time, it’s not from the MS but from the effect this woman has on me. I want to drag her home and lose myself in her for the rest of the night. But as much as I want her right now, especially after the dry spell of the past several weeks, her needs are my priority. Before I can make love to her as Anderson again, I need her to figure out where Prince Gabriel fits into her life. It’s the only way this will work.

I rest my forehead on hers, our heavy breaths echoing around us. I lick my lips, the taste of Nora still on them.

“Seven o’clock tomorrow,” I tell her.

“Seven o’clock tomorrow.”

“Good.” I release her, about to retreat once more, but stop. I curve into the crook of her neck. “And do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

I drop my voice. “Don’t wear any panties.”

I allow my request to sink in, then meet her stunned expression. Leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek, I head toward the waiting SUV, waving to a few onlookers who call my name.

“Did it work?” Creed asks as he pulls

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