What does pretending mean right now? I’m not even sure anymore. It feels pretty real to me.
Theo’s eyes flash, then, and he angles his head toward me. His lips hover over mine and the heat of his breath sends another wave of electricity tripping down my spine.
“You’re special, Cara. More than you know. More than I’ve let myself admit.”
My fingers curl into the waistband of his pants. His skin is hot against my knuckles. His smell is all around me. His lips taunting. My doubts and hesitations get quieter, and quieter, and quieter. ‘Pretending’ is starting to sound like a good idea. Like the only thing that makes sense right now.
The Prince stares into my eyes. “So, let’s pretend to consider the engagement. You come with me on a tour of the islands. We tell no one about the engagement. We tell our parents the only way we’ll agree is if we have time to talk it over. Just the two of us.”
“Then what?”
“Well, either Dante tells me I can be King as a single man, and you go off on your soul-searching adventure”—his eyes darken as his voice grows hoarse—“or, we decide that we can’t live without each other, and you marry me. We live a happy life together and have lots of little heirs.”
His words are deliciously wrong. Forbidden. Out of the question.
So why do they sound so good?
I arch my back, pressing my hips against his. It’s all the sign he needs.
In the hallway of my parent’s house, after aching and wanting and dreaming of him for days, Prince Theo finally, finally kisses me. It’s more than a kiss. He crushes his lips to mine, pulling my body to him. He claims me with his lips, and I know that I’m already his.
I could deny it. I could pretend I don’t want it. I could say that I still want to run away from Argyle.
I’d be lying.
I need his kiss like I need air. When he lashes his tongue against mine, I melt into his embrace. A moan slips through my lips as his fingers curl into the nape of my neck. Needles of pain erupt over my scalp as he tugs at my hair, transforming into pleasure in an instant.
His leg kicks mine apart, and I relish the feeling of grinding myself against him. Every bit of my body is hot. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer as the Prince kisses me harder. He slips his hand under my shirt and sweeps his palms across my back.
His injured arm is pinned between us, pressing up against my body as we moan together.
“Cara,” he mumbles into my lips. I love the way my name sounds coming from his mouth. I want him to say it over and over again. I want to hear it as a groan when he drives himself inside me. I want to hear him whisper it in my ear and scream it.
I want Prince Theo. There’s no denying it, and no going back. I’m not pretending right now. This is very, very real.
Something changed on that sailboat, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist.
A noise down the hall makes us pull apart. I glance down the empty hallway, then wipe my mouth, stealing a glance at the Prince.
I chuckle awkwardly, smoothing my hair. “Well. That happened.”
Theo’s lips curl into a grin. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and shakes his head.
“Three weeks is all I’m asking, Cara.”
“We shouldn’t be kissing,” I say, even though my lips want more.
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll complicate things.”
Theo’s body is still brushing against mine, and sparks fly between us. He shrugs. “What if I like kissing you?”
“It doesn’t change the fact that we’re supposed to be pretending. We’re not supposed to actually go through with it.”
He takes a step back, nodding. “Maybe you’re right. We should keep it platonic.”
Yeah, right. Whatever that means.
Every time we speak something out loud, our bodies say something entirely different. I want him badly. I don’t want to pretend at all. Every single cell in my body wants to go on this tour with Theo, if only to be near him. The voice in my mind screaming that it’s a bad idea is too easy to ignore.
But as he takes another step back, I feel the distance between us in my gut, immediately regretting my words. Is it right to push him away? Should I be jumping in his