Tempting the Prince (Sexy Misadventures of Royals)

by Christi Barth

  Her laughter burbled out. The sound relaxed him far more than the Chianti with dinner. “Stop it. I’ll bet most women under fifty want to flirt with Prince Christian.”

  “Perhaps. But you want to flirt with Christian, the man. Not the prince. Which is intoxicating. So I won’t stop.” He leaned back, stretching his legs out beneath the table to cross his ankles. “Do you like the port?”

  “Very much. I want to guzzle it, but I assume there’s a reason it’s served in these tiny glasses.”

  “Fortified means it has brandy added to the wine. So yes, you want to take it slow. But we’re not going anywhere. I’ll pour you a second glass. I’ve discovered tipsy Mallory is quite enchanting.”

  She rolled her eyes. “See? An average man wouldn’t call me enchanting.”

  “Good God, I never said I was average, woman,” he sputtered. Then Christian let his eyelids half shutter. “You, better than most, should know that.”

  “Are you really making an innuendo about the size of your penis? At the dinner table?”

  “Ah, you got it.” Feeling smug, he leaned in, setting his forearms on the table. “Ground rules—if you feel like you have to ask, just assume that yes, I’m flirting with you. Because, to recap? I’m not going to stop as long as you keep flirting back. Location doesn’t matter. The back seat of a car, the top of a tower, a veranda overlooking the Dolomites. You are alluring no matter the location, thus I will respond. Cause and effect. Very simple.”

  Her eyes dropped to where his black slacks pulled taut against a growing erection. “I feel the need to clarify. For the record. Nothing about you is average, Christian.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mallory took another slow sip. This time, it was her eyes that were shadowed as she looked at him over the rim of the glass. And this time, that look was absolutely flirtatious and no longer resisting out of an overabundance of caution. “So you’re above average and I’m enchanting. Where does that leave us?”

  That was an invitation Christian didn’t want to sidestep. But he needed to seize this moment of privacy for a different reason, before the evening progressed to a different sort of intimacy.

  “Ah. The reason I asked not to be disturbed.” He shoved back the chair and went to the sideboard where he’d stashed a box before dinner. Slid it into his pants pocket. Then he held out his hand.

  It was gratifying how she interlaced their fingers so willingly. How she trusted him. The edge of the veranda was delineated by a row of vaulted stone arches, each with a low railing. This side of the palace was built into the hillside. It made for an immediate and dramatic drop. The tops of pine trees poked through the rails by their legs.

  A full moon illuminated the valley, the stark shadows of the line of sharply angled peaks like a natural wall, but for giants. Christian leaned back against the rough arch. This speech had been festering in him for months, waiting for the right moment to erupt. If he didn’t think she’d laugh him off, he’d drop to one knee.

  Because what had happened to her—being shot in his country—was inexcusable. It had kept him up many a night. It knotted his stomach every time he thought about it. And when he’d seen the scars on her abdomen, Christian had known that he had to stop waiting for the right time.

  There was no right time, no right way, to try to atone for her almost being killed.

  “I need to apologize to you. I’m not sure if anyone else did it formally. Regardless, I need to do it myself.”

  Her nose crinkled. “For what?”

  “I’m tendering my apologies that you were treated so badly by one of my own countrymen. That you were shot on the steps of my Parliament house, within steps of the king and the rest of us. In what should’ve been the safest spot, the safest moment of the year. I’m sorry you were attacked. Wounded. That you suffered physically as you healed. That you suffered by losing your job because of it. That the whole experience may still haunt you. I know it sure as hell haunts me.”

  Hell.

  He hadn’t planned on rambling on for quite so long.

  But if that lunatic who shot her was suddenly dropped in front of him?

  Christian would, without hesitation, pitch him over into the darkness and take joy in his screams.

  …

  That was the most heartfelt speech she’d ever received. Sure, it was about her near-death and a period of her life she’d like to forget.

  But it also touched Mallory deeply.

  Nobody else had apologized. Not that she needed them to, for it wasn’t anyone’s fault but the gunman. And possibly any crazed accomplices.

  While she didn’t need it, Mallory did appreciate it. Greatly.

  The thoughtfulness of it had her blinking back tears. But the speech also showed Christian’s extraordinary commitment to and responsibility for his people. Here she was, trying to forget his title and treat him like just a man.

  Which was foolish.

  He was so much more than an average man.

  He carried the weight of the entire country on his shoulders—and he wasn’t even king yet. It would be so easy for him to accede to Parliament’s request and take the throne. So easy to ignore the father who’d been hiding from him. So easy to be a shallow figurehead, living a privileged, wealthy life of nothing but fun.

  Christian didn’t take the easy way out. Christian, rather, did the right thing. And in this more and more self-centered, instant-gratification world, that was truly remarkable.

  Now he was choosing to take time for her. On this all-important trip, all about his father, he’d singled her out to proffer an apology.

  Mind. Blown.

  “Thank you.” She swiped under both of her eyes. “That sounds so small and insignificant after your beautiful words. But I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

  “I want you to not hold the actions of a violent lunatic against the rest of the country.”

  “Oh, Christian, I don’t.”

  “Well, I’m not a man who leaves anything to chance.” He pulled a blue velvet box out of his pocket. “This is for you. A reminder of the good things about Moncriano.”

  Curious—what woman didn’t get excited at the sight of a jewelry box…aside from her sister, anyway—she popped up the lid. Nestled on the blue satin was a charm bracelet. An intricate, exquisite grouping of charms that were enameled and bejeweled. It seemed gauche to ask, or even wonder, so Mallory assumed the jewels were real.

  Which made her hesitate, for a moment, before reaching out to trace the shape of each one.

  There was an acorn, with diamonds dusting the tips as if they were snow. An old-fashioned pirate-type ship with wide blue sails filled in with sapphires. An emerald anchor. A white peacock, diamond tailfeathers extended. A mountain range shimmering in opals. A swan with tanzanite eyes. The last two were very regal—a miniature replica of Alcarsa Palace, and a ruby-and-diamond tiara.

  “It’s so, well, charming.” Christian snickered. Mallory brushed her lips across his cheek. Totally platonically. A present like this deserved a hug and a kiss, no matter who gifted it. She’d have done the same to Kelsey’s secretary, Sir Evan. She just wouldn’t have had melting lady parts like she did right now. “I love it. These are all meaningful symbols of Moncriano, yes?”

  “Yes. From, as I’m sure you’ll recognize, our family crest, the royal standard. Of course, you know of our deep connection to the ocean and mountains that bracket us.”

  “Your family crest?” The craftsmanship—and the sparkles—had made Mallory suspect that it was not something he’d picked up in a souvenir shop. But now this sounded much more personal. She should’ve recognized that these same symbols were painted and stamped and embroidered all over the walls and furnishings of Alcarsa Palace. “You had this specially made for me? I love it, but you didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

  “No. I didn’t.�
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  “Oh. Good.” Whereas she actually had a sinking in her stomach of disappointment. Stupid. “You’re too busy for taking the time to that sort of detail.”

  He set the box on the balustrade to clasp it around her wrist. Right next to the stack of motivational bangles she’d gotten on Amazon last year for $24.99. It was important to remind yourself by looking at a rose gold charm that life held an infinite number of twists, turns, and possibilities. “It was my mother’s. I had the housekeeper at Regali Palace dig it out of her closet and send it here.”

  “What?” Mallory gasped. She tried to yank back her wrist, but it was already fastened. “This belonged to a queen? Your mother—and Genevieve’s and Kelsey’s? I can’t wear this. You can’t give it to me.”

  Christian circled the bracelet and her wrist with his big, warm hand. “Mama would want you to have it. She’d want you to adore Moncriano as much as she did. She grew up here, in Italy. Made her first visit to Moncriano when she was sixteen and fell in love with it. As the story goes, she decided right then to do whatever it took to move there.”

  “Marrying a king’s a little drastic, if you ask me,” she quipped.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

  A charge filled the air as his words hung between them, heavy with…what? Meaning? Portent? An unspoken offer?

  That was ridiculous.

  They couldn’t marry.

  They couldn’t even date. They were stealing kisses in secret.

  Mallory was simply caught up in the romance of the moment. The moonlight, the scent of pines mixing with the flowers in the table centerpieces. The ancient palace, the intoxicating wine, the handsome prince, the stunning jewels…

  Christian had simply been teasing her. It was what they did. They bantered. With an added level of flirtation, just…because.

  So what if his thumb caressed the back of her hand? So what if his eyes freaking smoldered as he stared down at her? So what if she could feel his heart racing beneath the crisp pale-pink shirt?

  Wait.

  When—how—why had her hand planted itself on his chest?

  Well, since it was there, she might as well rub her palm back and forth across those tight pecs. No different than appreciating fine art in a museum. This man was fine, indeed.

  “Christian, I do love it. But I don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone’s feelings. This is a precious heirloom.”

  “Mallory, that’s why I gave it to you.” He curled his fingers around her hand, pressing it even tighter to his heart. “Because of the import, the history, the weight it carries as a symbol. Not because I was trying to save myself a trip to the mall.”

  Cocking her head, she gave him her best You know nothing, Jon Snow glare. “Please. Have you ever been to a mall?”

  “No.” Christian lodged his tongue firmly in his cheek. “But I’ve seen them in movies and they look like magical places, full of fun and wonder.”

  “Yes. As well as screaming children, projectile bodily fluids from the aforementioned children, roving gangs of teens, and slow-walking seniors.” It had been five glorious months since she’d descended into a mall’s hellmouth.

  “Wow. Don’t quit your day job to go into marketing. You’re a horrible saleswoman.”

  “My expertise is in fundraising. If I’m passionate about something, I’ll convince you it’s wonderful, and make you decide to empty your wallet for it. A.k.a. I’ll passionately sell you on internet shopping you can do at two a.m. in your pajamas. That’s the web’s greatest gift to mankind.”

  Christian pointed toward the interior of the palace. “What about its power to connect long-lost relatives and friends?”

  Talk about a weak sales pitch. The last thing Kelsey had wanted was to ditch her dreams and come live with the total strangers who were her long-lost relatives. It had all worked out, sure, but the odds it’d turn out this well every time were astronomically slim.

  “When I want to connect with a new dress by Thursday, the internet is there for me. Instant gratification.”

  “See, that I’m passionate about. The instant gratification.” Christian spread his legs wide to pull her right in between. “And I’m feeling very in need of it right now…”

  She couldn’t just ignore the legacy elephant in the room without giving it one more attempt at making Christian see his gift was a mistake. Wonderful and thoughtful, yes. Breathtaking, yes. But too much for this random woman from Michigan.

  “Genevieve, your father—won’t they be shocked when they see it on me?”

  “I think we’ve covered how unavailable Papa’s been for months, until today. If this sends him into a snit, that’d be freaking great. And as far as Genny goes, I did ask her, first, if she had any desire to keep it. Remember, she’s had years to paw through Mama’s jewelry boxes and choose what she likes.”

  The princess had been an icy bitch to both her and Kelsey when they first arrived. Apparently Mallory’s getting shot had completely thawed her, or so Kelsey claimed. The two of them had become easy and close while Mallory healed in America. Since her return, Mallory hadn’t spent enough time with her to witness the transformation. So she was genuinely curious as to Genny’s reaction.

  “What did she say?”

  “That I could have it as long as it didn’t become a party favor for a one-night stand. That it went to someone who mattered.”

  Huh. Guess Genny was as warm and nice as Kelsey said. It defused much of Mallory’s concern about accepting the gift. “That’s very generous of her.”

  Christian’s hands clasped at the small of her back. Which meant the sides were resting on the top curve of her ass. Almost all of Mallory’s attention dropped to that singular location of heavy pressure. Because oh my God it felt so good to have his hands on her again.

  Then he dropped a kiss at her temple, nibbling down her cheek. “Besides, Gran just gave you heraldic baroness jewelry. This isn’t any different.”

  “Mmm. Okay. I promise you that I’m not holding a grudge against Moncriano.”

  “Fine, then.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll take it back—”

  Mallory threw up an eyebrow so hard she practically heard it snap. “No, you won’t! I love it. And I love that wherever I do end up, I’ll have a reminder of your wonderful country.” He’d teased her, so she’d lob it right back. “You know, the one that stole my sister away from me, ruined my move to Manhattan, and cost me not only a job, but two pints of blood…yeah, I’m definitely keeping this bracelet.”

  “Brat.” Christian nipped at her earlobe. “Will it remind you of any, ah, person in particular?” His hot breath seared her neck right before his lips continued their slow trail down the side of her throat.

  Always ready to be helpful, Mallory tilted her head and tossed her hair back out of the way. “Are you actually fishing for a compliment, Your Highness? That strikes me as several rungs below both your station and your manliness.”

  “Then stop making me work so hard for it, woman!”

  Aha. She had something as precious to him as this bracelet now was to her. The right words. Words of appreciation to the man, and not the prince.

  Mallory felt nothing but respect for the crown prince. For the man giving her a glimpse of his vulnerability, however, she felt much, much more. Probably too much.

  So yes, she’d throw caution to the wind.

  Again.

  Embrace the moment.

  Seize the day. Yada yada yada.

  In the shadows, his eyes were as dark as the night sky around them, except for the pinprick reflections of the candles guttering in holders hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Mallory almost surrendered to a wave of dizziness from drowning in them.

  “I don’t need a bracelet to remind me of you, Christian. I’ll remember you to the end of my days. Your strength, your caring, your passi
on for your people, your sub-par dart game…”

  “Unbelievable. I told you I was having a miserable day. It put me off my game. You want a rematch? There are three hundred rooms in the palace. One of them must contain a dartboard. We’ll go right now.”

  “No. I want a rematch of something else that I’ll always remember.”

  Mallory palmed his cheeks, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Deeply. With all the feelings she didn’t dare say out loud. Admitting her feelings would only lead to pain sooner. If she admitted how deeply she cared, he’d be compelled to shut this all down. Because they both knew he’d be engaged—and not to her—in a matter of months.

  But she did twine her tongue against his, thrusting and sucking. Did press her breasts against his chest and rub shamelessly back and forth. And with a little bit of a hitch, she did jump up to lock her ankles around his thighs so they lined up perfectly. It also led to Christian supporting her ass with both hands, which was heavenly.

  “Do you want to come back to my room?” he offered in a voice like gravel, rough and urgent.

  “Yes. Of course I do. But we can’t. We said we wouldn’t do this again.”

  His laughter rolled through the valley, echoing off the mountains so loudly she was sure they’d wake his entire family. “I don’t need my captain’s bars in the Royal Navy to tell you that ship has already sailed.”

  Mallory wasn’t being a tease. She was being practical. Responsible. “We can’t sneak off to have sex. You’ve no idea what could transpire with your father as the night progresses. What if he comes to talk to you and finds me naked in your bed?”

  “I’m guessing he’d knock first. So that’d never happen.”

  Oh, these people and their knocking and bowing and waiting. It was all a pain in the neck. “Very funny.”

  “No, proper protocol isn’t a laughing matter at all in our household.”

  “Christian. You’re on a family road trip. That means a very real possibility of family popping in for late-night chats.”

  “Seriously? Remember, the last time we did this as a family, I was four. We’re all hazy on the rules and expectations you and Kelsey attach to road trips.”