of range. He gave a slanted half-smile before his hands spread across her back and his elbows tucked against her sides. His biceps tensed, caging her in, and she dug her fingers into the solid muscle—not sure if she was threatening him with resistance or preparing to hold him in place if he dared to pull away.
“I can’t believe I’m this close to you right now,” he said, as awareness burned beneath her skin, flashing like fireflies. “Can—can we do this again?”
“I—” Yes. Her whole body yearned for him. “Time to go.”
He groaned, and she swore she felt the vibration low inside her.
As she pried herself off him, smoothing her dress and tugging at the knot of her headscarf, she caught herself thinking in terms of all or nothing. That had always been the shape of her denial. Surrendering to Kris’s chemistry seemed like opening a door to a future they couldn’t have—but perhaps it didn’t need to be that absolute. He now knew the worst of her upbringing and still wanted her. It was possible for them to take the next step, without secrets or lies, and to make sure they never ventured any further. Finally, this prince would know exactly who he was taking to bed.
And then he could focus on finding a queen.
She jolted as his hand moved over her lower back. They had no future. But when his eyes clouded like that, the only future in his decision-making was the very, very immediate.
Perhaps she could handle that.
“Yes,” she said.
He flashed her a startled look, wallet half out of his back pocket.
“We can be close again,” she finished softly.
His smile was slow and delicious, and flared heat across her face.
Out on the sidewalk, she stood with her weight pushed onto one hip and drew out her phone to call the security car. She’d positioned them several blocks away. Philip would be livid if he discovered she’d taken Kris out by herself, but no way in hell was she going to risk anyone on her team looking twice at her father. She hated it too, but this had been the only approach to revealing her past to Kris that he would take seriously.
Although if “it’s not a reason you can’t be with me,” was any indication—he still hadn’t.
He slid a hand around her wrist with a soft, “Frankie.”
Lowering the phone, she found herself pulled lightly against him. “I told you not to call me that tonight,” she said, her cheek brushing against his shirt.
“Show me.” He spoke into her hair. “Don’t stop here.”
She made a questioning sound while trying to memorize his smell.
“Show me how you grew up.”
It wasn’t a small request, but Frankie did her best. Her upbringing stained most of her memories and the entire eastern crest of Kiraly. Unlike the luxury of the lakeside district, these streets were narrower, the houses cheaper, the shops selling only to locals because the tourists didn’t come this way. The people weren’t bad, just doing their best with what little they had. And when she was young, Frankie had relished in the freedom to play messy, loud games with the neighborhood kids without law enforcement keeping the streets clear and quiet for camera-ready travelers.
Until her dad had made her play his games.
“I grew up in that apartment,” she said, pointing to a dark third-floor window with potted plants on the tiny balcony. The white glow of the nearby streetlamp cast the building in stark, ugly light, and the memories that clogged her pores were slick like fever-sweat. “It was small, and the walls were thin, but it meant my mother and I could hear when he was coming down the hall.”
Kris stood, holding her hand, gazing at her old home. “What were the neighbors like?”
Of course this small-town cowboy would wonder about the community she’d grown up in. “I don’t remember. They didn’t like Dad, so kept to themselves.”
He kept looking up. “Why didn’t they like him?”
She almost rolled her eyes. That question proved the efficacy of her father’s disguise this evening. Gentle and genuine, so convincing that despite the change-taking at the counter, Kris struggled to imagine him any other way.
“Just . . . imagine something bad,” she said, unsure how to put her father into words. “Like a pipe filled with something disgusting. If you block the pipe for hours or even days at a time, the pressure behind that bad stuff is going to build up. Then when you unblock it, say in the comfort of