by Ember Casey
But he is nice to look at. And there’s nothing wrong with a little fantasizing…
I blink a few times, breaking myself out of the seemingly constant daydream state I’m finding myself in when I’m around Leo. I clear my throat. “It’s not your caloric intake I’m worried about. You’ve had a serious head injury and I don’t want to clean up the mess when you vomit.”
The smile falls from his face. “As I said, Doctor, I can assure you I am fine. I’ve suffered far greater injuries—”
“With a thirty-minute loss of consciousness? I seriously doubt it, Your Highness.” Tears sting at my eyes saying the words, but I blink them back, hoping he didn’t notice. My voice drops to something barely above a whisper. “You could die. You really, really need to go to the hospital.”
His lips part as though he’s about to speak, but he says nothing. He reaches over to me, taking my hand in his. “You care.”
I tear my hand away from his, trying very hard to ignore the bolt of electricity racing up my arm at his touch. My heart is pounding in my chest. “Of course I care. I thought we established that. I care about all my patients, you included.”
He nods. “I see.”
“Do you? Do you see?” The filter between my mouth and brain seems to have evaporated. “Because I’m pretty sure you don’t see anything but a diversion for your boredom. I don’t think you see anything but my tits and my ass and I certainly don’t think you see anything even remotely—”
“Elle.” He shakes his head. “You don’t know me. You think you do—everyone thinks they do. Even my family thinks…” His voice trails off and his eyes move to a point beyond my shoulder before his gaze snaps back to mine. “I don’t see you as a diversion. I might have at first, but I don’t any longer.”
I sit there, silent. All I can do is blink—I’m being a bitch. I’m acting like every other judgmental person out there. I’m the same as the people who read the tabloids and think they know celebrities because of how their escapades are reported. My eyebrows draw together and I let out a heavy breath. “I’m...sorry. I’m really sorry.”
His eyes narrow for a split second before he nods, but he doesn’t say anything.
I remember how I need to keep him talking—I’m still afraid he could slip into a coma at any second. “Tell me about your life then.”
He lifts a brow and looks at me. He rubs a hand across his jaw. “What exactly is it you want to know, Doctor?”
I fold my hands on my lap—trying to appear at least as though I’m not trying to dig for personal details. “Tell me about what you do in Montovia.”
His smile is forced and I’m not sure how to read his expression. It almost seems like he’s uncomfortable talking about it. “I actually spend very little time in Montovia anymore.” He shrugs. “I spend the majority of my time traveling. Seeing the world and such.”
I nod. “And what will you do when you’re done with that? What does a prince do when he settles down?” I smile. “It’s not like you can go work at the mall or something.”
He lets out a short breath, something less than a chuckle. “No, I suppose I can’t, not that I would want to.” He stares at me. “I suppose I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Because your brother—he’s the crown prince, right? He’ll be king—”
“I’m the second in line for the throne at the present moment. I still must learn the duties…” His voice trails off and he shakes his head, his gaze drifting to the floor. He’s silent for a second before he looks back at me. “I’m next in line for the crown until my brother has a child. And I’m certain that once he finds a wife, conceiving will be his only priority.”
There’s something in his voice—something almost sad, but that isn’t quite it. He’s wistful, for sure, but I can’t quite put my finger on what’s going on, especially when he talks about his brother. “So what do the non-crown princes do?”
The look on his face is all too serious. “Ribbon cuttings. Ceremonial events. The occasional parade.” His mouth twists around on itself. “Nothing of any great importance—”
His words are interrupted by a loud crack and I know immediately what is happening. I walk over to the cupboard and start pulling supplies out of the cupboard. I set a box on the counter and walk over to the window, closing it with a loud thud.
“Doctor, it is almost unbearably warm in here. I don’t suppose we might leave the window open?” His smile hasn’t returned, and after what he’s just said, I have my doubts that it will.
The crack sounds again, followed by a loud boom. I meet Leo’s gaze and point to the ceiling. “It’s going to rain.”
“Rain sounds positively delightful in this heat, though. If we couldn’t just—”
I interrupt with a shake of my head. “I don’t think you understand, Leo. When it rains here, it doesn’t just rain.”
He smiles. “You called me by my name. I don’t think you’ve called me by my name since I’ve arrived.”
I blink at him a few times—trying not to react—before I walk back over to the box on the counter. I pull out the candles and other supplies we’ll need. But I don’t acknowledge what he said—or what it means. I’m not sure I even know.
I glance over at him, meeting his gaze before turning back to the emergency supplies. “Most of the time we lose power when it rains, especially when the storms happen at night. We’ll probably get our electricity back in the morning, and if we don’t, we have a small generator…” I stop talking when I realize I’m babbling.
“Elle.”
I turn to face him. “Your Highness.”
He grins. “I like it much better when you call me Leo.”
I roll my eyes before I turn back to the supplies. And before he sees the grin that has appeared on my lips.
“Perhaps we should go out into the rain for a time? As I said, a rain shower sounds delightful—”
I interrupt, turning back to him. “They have wet t-shirt contests at the bar on Tuesday nights, Your Highness. You’re welcome to peruse the female form in all its glory then.”
The grin returns to his face. “Well. I hadn’t even thought of seeing you in a wet shirt, but now that you mention it…”
I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep myself from smiling, too. “You. Are. Insufferable.”
“As you’ve previously stated.” His eyes are shining with delight—something has happened between us. Something small, but significant. He’s starting to melt me the tiniest bit, and even though I’m not sure I like how he’s starting to break down my walls, there’s something good about it. Something right.
It’s scary as fuck for me to even think about. But it makes my heart flutter in my chest all the same.
He looks at me for a long time before he stands—I’m pretty sure he’s going to try to pin me against the wall or something again. And I don’t think I’d even mind this time.
But he stands for only a second before dropping back onto the bed. He pauses for a moment while he sits there and rubs his head. “Doctor. I seem to be feeling a bit dizzy.” He looks up at me, and the grin has disappeared from his lips. “Though I’ll admit I suspect it may be because I’m picturing you in a wet shirt.”
“Lie down.” I use the same tone I used with Matthias earlier—the I mean business and don’t argue with me voice. “Now.”
He kicks his legs up onto the gurney and I walk over to him quickly, grabbing the pillow from the other bed before I put it under his knees.
“The problem does not seem to be with my legs, Doctor. The problem…” He closes his eyes and his voice trails off.
“Wake up, Leo.” I sit on the edge of his bed, giving his shoulder a shake. I lean over him, my face close to his. “Open your eyes.”
He doesn’t move. I bend down, tilting my head to see if I can hear him breathing. But he’s motionless and I can’t even feel his breath on my face.
My breath hitches in my chest, and I begin to tremble. I need to move quic
kly—I need to try to resuscitate him.
I switch myself into doctor-mode again, but not before a thought floats through my mind.
I need to save him so we can both have our happily ever after.
Before I can even chastise myself for the thought, his eyes flutter open and he blinks several times, the grin returning to his lips. His arms slide around my waist before I realize he’s conned me.
He grins. “Ah, this is much more comfortable.”
Leo
I half expect her to jerk away from me immediately. But to my pleasant surprise, she doesn’t. Perhaps I’ve only startled her...but no—there’s something in her expression, something unmistakable. Her eyes are darker, and the blood has returned to her cheeks. I can feel her warm, sweet breath on my face.
And I can feel other parts of her, too. Those full breasts of hers are pressed against my chest, and her heart is beating so quickly I can feel it fluttering.
“Don’t you agree?” I prompt. “This is much better than before.”
One of her hands is on the gurney by my shoulder, but the other has been pressed between us. I feel her fingers curl against the bare skin of my chest, and I brace myself for her to push away.
But she doesn’t. She seems to be paralyzed. Speechless.
And I’m only too happy to take the lead.
I spread my hands against her back, trying to feel her through the fabric of her shirt. It’s unfortunate she’s still clothed, but I won’t rush things.
“You want me to stay in bed,” I murmur, “but you also seem to think it important that I stay awake. Tell me, Elle, whatever shall I do to keep myself occupied all night?”
Thunder cracks overhead, and this time, it’s followed by the unmistakable sound of rain coming down against the roof. Within the space of a breath, it goes from a small spattering of drops to a great downpour, pounding against the tiles above us.
Trapped by a storm, I think. If the storms here are as bad as Elle claims, I can’t imagine she’ll think it safe to try and transport me to a hospital under these circumstances. Now all I must do is convince her that I am perfectly fine.
She still hasn’t moved. Slowly, carefully, I let one hand drift up her back. My fingers trace her spine all the way up to the base of her neck, where they slip into the strands of her hair. Though she clearly took great care in straightening it this morning, the humidity of this place and the events of the day seemed to have returned it to its natural state, which pleases me greatly. I like it like this—wild and untamed. I tangle my hand in the wavy strands, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
I take my time pulling her face down to mine, enjoying the way she’s looking at me. The way her pupils have dilated. The way her gaze keeps flicking down to my lips.
And then she’s too close to look anywhere. Her eyes fall shut. Mine do, too, and I drink in the sweet taste of her breath as I close the final distance between us.
When our lips touch, the world explodes around us.
But no—that’s not us. That’s the thunder erupting again overhead, and it’s so close and so loud it makes the entire clinic shake.
And it seems to startle Elle out of the moment. I hardly have time to register the warmth of her lips against mine before she’s jerking away. She pulls back so quickly, so violently, that she can’t seem to find her feet, and she stumbles back a couple of steps as the lights flicker around us.
“Elle,” I say, starting to sit up.
The lights go out.
I hear the clang of her foot colliding with something metal—the other gurney, perhaps?—then the thump of her hitting the ground, followed by a “Shit.”
“Elle?” I say, getting up. It’s black as pitch in here, but I move toward the sound of her muttered curses. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she says.
She’s right at my feet, and I bend over, reaching through the darkness for her. My hand finds her arm.
“Why are you out of bed?” she says. “Lie down. Now.”
“You’re hurt.” I try to help her to her feet, but she pulls her arm out of my grip.
“I just tripped. You might have a head injury. Now lie down.”
I stay where I am. “I promise you, Elle, I’m perfectly—”
“And while we’re at it, that was completely inappropriate.”
“Which part?”
“You know which part.”
“Well. You should have said something. I gave you plenty of time to do so.”
“You...you startled me. That was all.”
I hear her take a step in front of me, but then she seems to realize I’m still there.
“Lie back down,” she tells me.
“We need those candles you pulled out,” I say. “Let me help you. We wouldn’t want another accident.”
“If you don’t listen to me, then what I do to you won’t be an accident.”
“Oh,” I say, “and what is it you plan to do to me? I think I may enjoy this plan very much.”
She tries to move past me, but by design or by accident, she ends up stumbling right into me, and I catch her in my arms.
“You are very clumsy, Doctor,” I tell her. “Maybe I should help you.”
“And you are insufferable.”
“So you continue to tell me. Really, Doctor, I’m beginning to feel a little offended you don’t care enough to be more creative with your insults.”
I expect her to argue—or to throw a few of those creative barbs right back into my face—but she doesn’t. Instead, I feel the brush of her hair against my chest as she leans her face forward.
“Don’t do this,” she whispers, shaking her head.
“Do what?” I ask, my voice just as soft.
“This.”
Her hands are braced against my chest, and I’m acutely aware of every single one of her fingers. I want to tighten my arms around her. To pull her snugly against my body and whisper soft things into her hair. I want to do other things, too—my cock is definitely responding to her nearness—but I restrain myself on all counts. The rain continues to beat down overhead, and another rumble of thunder makes the window shake.
“Why shouldn’t we do this?” I ask her softly.
I’m close enough to smell her hair, and the scent is heavenly—like summer and fresh air and something distinctly feminine. It seems unlikely that Elle wears perfume, so this scent is entirely her, and it takes every ounce of will in my body not to lean my face down and inhale deeply.
She takes a deep breath as if composing herself. If the lights were on, I’d tilt her face up toward mine so I could see the expression in her eyes—but then again, if the lights were on, she wouldn’t be in my arms now.
“I don’t do this,” she says. “And I certainly don’t do it with men like you.”
“Like me?”
“Princes,” she says. “Or with men I’ve only known for two days. I hardly know you. You hardly know me. I don’t care if you say I’m not a diversion. We’re still basically strangers. And you’re here to oversee my work, which makes you practically my boss—which makes this inappropriate.” She takes another deep breath and rushes on. “You’re also my patient—and you’ve had a head injury, which means you should be lying down.”
“Well, if you’d prefer to go back to the gurney—”
“You need to refrain from all activity. Anything that increases your heart rate is absolutely out of the question.”
I smile, though she can’t see it. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
“And you need to stop cracking jokes about this. I’m serious. If anything happened to you while you were under my care—”
“You’d never forgive yourself,” I finish for her. “Because despite your determination to dislike me, you find that you can’t.”
“Because I’m serious about doing my job, and I’d never forgive myself for letting my personal feelings get in the way of my professional responsibilities.”
She seems
to realize what she’s said at the same moment I do because she stiffens in my arms. But I’m not about to let that one slide.
“Your personal feelings?” I press, my tone light and teasing. “Well, I’m glad you finally admitted it to yourself. I was beginning to think—”
“You know that isn’t what I meant.” She lifts her head up, and though my vision is starting to adapt to the lack of light, I still can’t see her face clearly. “And you still need to lie down.”
“Are you quite finished?” I ask her.
“I’m not going to be finished until you’re back on that gurney.”
“And I’m not going back to that gurney unless you come with me,” I tell her. “But that is not what I meant. I was simply asking if you were done listing off all your excuses for why you think we shouldn’t do this.”
“They aren’t excuses,” she insists. “They’re legitimate reasons for why all this is a bad idea. And even if those reasons didn’t exist, I’m still leaving in two days.”
“Mm.” I lean my face down slightly. “And do you often shy away from things you want because you’re afraid they’re going to end?”
Her voice is so soft I can hardly hear it above the pounding rain. “I’m not shying away.”
“No,” I murmur. “Right now, I guess you aren’t.”
And then I kiss her.
Elle
His lips press against mine, so very gentle at first but insistent, his tongue trailing along my bottom lip. Before I have a moment to think about what it is I’m doing, my lips part and his tongue slides against mine.
And he’s delicious. A mix of peanut butter and...something. Something that is just him—and I want more. Part of me thinks I might never have enough, which should be enough to scare me into ending this now.
Whatever electricity there’s been between us before is nothing compared to this moment—the warm tingling sensation coiling around my body, settling low in my belly. Waking up parts of me I’ve spent the past year pretending were dead.