Royally Unexpected 2 - Lilian Monroe Page 0,13

a bit coarse. There are half a dozen grey hairs poking through on his temple. I feel his hair with the tips of my fingers as I try to wipe a bit of blood out of it, and I start to wonder what it would feel like to twist my fingers into it.

The Prince’s lips are full and almost feminine, and he parts them ever so slightly when I wipe the blood off them. His tongue slides out to lick his lower lip, and a jolt of heat passes straight through my stomach.

Once or twice, I glance at his eyes. They’re dark, stormy, and utterly sinful. The way he looks at me makes me want to squeeze my thighs together. It makes me want to know what it feels like to have his lips on mine, his hands around my waist, his…

I shake my head. A few hours ago, I was watching him kiss my sister. Now, I’m fantasizing about him being my first?

Get a grip, Ivy.

When I start mopping up his chest, my heart is racing. I take care to not let my skin touch his, but even through the tea towel, I can feel the heat of his body. His chest is hard, muscular, and impossibly broad. I wonder what it would feel like to lay my head there, in the crook between his shoulder and his chest?

I clear my throat.

“I never would have taken you for the nurturing type when you walked in here, guns blazing,” the Prince says to break the silence. I flick my eyes up to his.

Big mistake.

My panties are pretty much ruined at this point.

“No?” I manage to say, focusing on the blood that has dripped down to his navel.

“No, you stormed in here like a tough biker chick, all leather and attitude, but you’re actually really gentle.” The Prince’s hand drifts up to my hip, and I don’t want to tell him to move it. I like the feeling of his hands on my body. I like the heat of it, and the coiled power that I can sense in every part of him.

Taking care not to look at his eyes, I shrug. “I drive a Vespa, so I’m not exactly a bad-ass biker chick. More like dinky little scooter girl.”

Prince Luca chuckles, and the noise makes my stomach clench. I swallow hard, standing up to wring out the tea towel. His eyes are still on me. I can feel them, and it takes everything inside me not to stare back. I’ve pretty much been wearing a permanent blush ever since I walked into the kitchen.

The Prince groans as he stands up. I focus on the tea towel, throwing out the bloody ones and moving to wipe down the counter. The kitchen looks like a crime scene.

I stop when I see Prince Luca’s hand extended toward me.

“I’m Luca, by the way. I never introduced myself.”

“I know who you are,” I say, dragging my eyes up to his. I slide my palm into his hand, and my whole body turns electric. Heat licks the inside of my stomach as my hand feels like it’s burning against his. My mouth goes dry and I struggle to swallow. I’m blinking too much.

Kiss. Straddle. Erection. Panties. Lips. Eyes. Hands.

What were we talking about?

“What’s going on here?” We both turn to see Hunter in the doorway. His face is dark, flicking from me, to the shirtless Prince, to the bloodbath on the kitchen floor.

My instinct is to shrink back, but not Prince Luca. Instead, he puffs his chest out and takes a step forward, as if he owns the ground he walks on. Even in my own house, he feels more at home than I do.

“Who are you?” Luca asks, stepping sideways to shield me from Hunter.

My heart flutters the tiniest bit.

Okay, fine—it flutters a lot.

I step forward, putting a hand on the Prince’s bicep—a very firm bicep, by the way—and I glance at the Prince with a slight nod.

“This is Hunter, Margot’s agent. He’s…” I glance at the wiry man in the doorway. “What are you doing here, Hunter?”

“I just came to check in. Do you need to go to the hospital? That’s a lot of blood.”

Luca waves a hand. “I’ll get one of the doctors at the castle to look at it. I’d better go.” He turns toward me, his gaze making me burn up. “It was nice to meet you, Poison.”

“You’re not actually going to call me that, are you?”

His grin is intoxicating. How