George looked at Gordon again, this time with his brow furrowed. “Good.”
When he continued staring at Gordon—who did his best to look as if he didn’t notice—Isabelle cleared her throat. “How long have you been here?”
“Too long,” George said, finally turning back to Isabelle with a smile. It seemed forced. “I’m ready to go home. It’s nice here, but I long for the rolling mountains of Liston. The order and sophistication.”
“I know what you mean. I miss home already, and it’s only been two days.”
The waiter approached, smiling at both of them. He had a fine sheen of sweat on the skin above his upper lip. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”
Isabelle looked down at the menu. “I’ll have—”
“A bottle of Chablis, and two filet mignons, cooked medium-well, please,” George said, closing his menu. “We’ll both have salads with house dressing, too.”
Isabelle stiffened. “Actually, I’d—” A princess never argues in public, especially in business relations. She gripped the menu edges tight and closed it. “I mean, thank you very much.”
“Ma’am?” the waiter asked, shooting George a quick look. “Anything else you’d like to add?”
“No, thank you.” She smiled at George. “We’re all set.”
The waiter left, and George sighed. “These Americans have no idea how the world is supposed to work. They expect everyone to be on equal footing, from the President to the dishwasher…to the hired help.” He gestured to Gordon, who watched them with narrowed eyes. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, clenching her teeth. “I think it’s a novel idea. One that’s gotten them very far in so little time.”
“Some might say so.” George opened his napkin and spread it on his lap. “I happen to disagree.”
She opened her mouth to continue the conversation, but the waiter returned with their drinks. By the time he left, she decided it wasn’t worth arguing. She’d met men like him, who were set in old ways, and there was no changing his mind. He was just like her father. Old-fashioned. Traditional. Stuffy.
George wouldn’t pull her hair and command her to go down on her knees.
“Tell me more about your country,” George said, smiling and handing her a glass of wine. He’d filled it a quarter of the way full. “What’s it like?”
Isabelle picked up her wine and spent the next half hour or so going over every detail of her country’s cities, people, and laws. By the time the main course came, she had a headache gathering behind her eyebrows that felt as if a tiny creature attempted to pound its way through her skull.
George was nice. He was handsome. He was every inch the typical prince she’d expected him to be. But he was driving her insane.
After half-heartedly pushing her food around on her plate, she stood up. “Excuse me for a moment, please.”
George stood, placing his napkin on the table. He’d eaten his entire meal. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll order us some dessert, if you’re finished?” He eyed her plate, then frowned at the empty wineglasses. “And some brandy.”
“Order whatever you’d like,” she said, smiling even though she wanted to beat her head into the wall. As she turned away, she muttered, “You will anyway.”
As she headed down the narrow hallways that led to the restrooms, Gordon fell into step behind her. He didn’t waste any time in asking, “Who is that guy?”
“Prince George of Liston.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You met before?”
“No,” she managed to say through the blinding ache in her head. Her stomach growled, and she pressed a hand to it. “Never.”
“You didn’t eat again,” he said, his tone hard. “You need to go back and eat.”
Another man telling her what she had to do. “I don’t need to do anything,” she snapped. “If I want to eat, I’ll eat. Now excuse me.”
She tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot in it. “What’s wrong, Princess? Don’t like when I boss you around outside of the bedroom?”
“You know that I don’t.”
“Tough shit,” he said, leaning so close their noses touched. “I don’t like watching you flirt with that asshole, but I did it anyway. It’s called being an adult. You put up with shit you don’t like.”
Her heart fluttered. “You’re…jealous?”
“No,” he said, sounding as if she’d asked him if he wore tights and danced around in a skirt instead. “I don’t get fucking jealous of anyone or anything.”
“Good.” She met his eyes, refusing to show him how much she’d wanted him to be jealous. If she saw him flirting with another woman, you can bet your kingdom’s jewels she’d be upset. “Now let me powder my nose in peace, please.”
He snorted. “As you wish, Princess. Since you asked nicely.”
Removing his foot from the door, he closed the door in her face.
Chapter Seven
Gordon watched Isabelle hug the prince goodbye, his hands curled into fists the whole time. There was something about the guy he didn’t like. Maybe it was the way he smirked when he smiled. Or the way he kept looking at Gordon, with this knowing look in his eye, as if he knew exactly how much he didn’t like watching the two of them together.
Then again, maybe it was just because Gordon knew that Prince George and Princess Isabelle made perfect sense together. The kind of sense he and Isabelle would never make. And their “business meeting” had so clearly been a date. A date that seemed, for all intents and purposes¸ to have gone well.
Son of a bitch.
He walked closer to the pair, tension gathering behind his shoulder blades with painful acceleration. “—yes, I’d love that. I love the opera.”
Of course you do. You’re a fucking princess.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday night, then. We can talk more about our future arrangements then.” George bent over her knuckles, placing a kiss over them with a flourished bow. He even flipped his coat tails. Fucking pompous jerk. “I’m so pleased to have met you, Isabelle.”
Isabelle smiled, her cheeks flushing a fetching pink. “Me too, George. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” George straightened, looked over at Gordon, then kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait to speak more about our possible merger.”
Isabelle paled but kept her smile firmly in place. “Me, too.”
After one last hug—overkill, in Gordon’s opinion—the annoying prince finally walked away. Isabelle’s smile faded away, and she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes with a sigh. She looked exhausted. Sad. Alone.
And he wanted to help her, damn it. He didn’t know what the hell was going on between the two of them, but she obviously wasn’t happy about it. He understood that feeling, and the frustrations that went with it, all too well.
“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer.
She startled, her eyes flying open. Straightening her spine, she plastered a fake smile on her face. “Yes, I’m lovely. Thank you for asking.”
“Drop the princess act,” he snapped. “I know you’re not wonderful.”
“Then don’t ask me questions if you already know the answers.” She brushed past him. “I want to go home now. Please.”
He stared at her for a beat, but then pushed off the wall. She was clearly upset, but she wouldn’t talk to him unless she wanted to. And he had a feeling she wouldn’t do it in public at all. She probably had a rule about how princesses didn’t spill their hearts out in public, or some shit like that.
Last night, she’d talked in her sleep, mumbling all these “rules” she had. It had been adorable and yet disturbing. He’d sat there, watching her talk to herself, and then he’d gone down to the couch once she’d quieted.
Sleep was hard to come by nowadays, and when he did sleep? He had nightmares every single fucking time. Horrible nightmares that he woke himself up from by screaming. She didn’t need to know that about
him. No one did. No one except Georgie.
Aw, shit. His dog had the same name as her prince.
Was that why she’d laughed this morning? Because she’d known?
“Your town car is this way,” he said, his voice tight.
“I want to take your car.” She turned to him, her green eyes pleading. “I don’t want to be with other people.”
“But you’ll be with me?”
She hesitated, then said, “Yes. Is your car here?”
“Yeah.” He placed a hand at the small of her back. “This way.”
As they walked through the abandoned parking lot to his car, she didn’t say a word. She was oddly quiet. He didn’t know what to make of that. Of her. And even worse? He wanted her. Still. Again. More. She, however, seemed to be perfectly content to leave things where they were. One night of sex, and then all business.
The frustration he felt about this whole mess was new.
He’d never wanted more before, and he didn’t know what it meant. Or what, if anything, he should do about it.
When they got to his car, he opened her door for her. She glanced at him before she slid into his seat. As he seated himself behind the wheel, her phone rang.
She glanced down at it, sighed, and held it to her ear. “Hello?” A pause. “Yes, mother. You’re up late, aren’t you? It’s past twelve over—” Silence. “It went well.” Another pause. “Yes, he’s very handsome and nice. Quite the gentleman, too. Just as you said.”
Gordon stiffened. Handsome. Nice. Yep. Definitely a date.
“I don’t know yet. We’re going out again Friday.” She fell silent and rubbed her forehead. “I know. Yes, I know.” Another moment of silence. “I know. I’m well aware what is expected of me. It’s been drilled into my head since the day I was born.” She nodded. “I will. But I’m going to go to bed now… It’s late over here.”
After she said good-bye, she hung up and dropped her phone into her hand. Gordon kept his eyes on the road and cleared his throat. “So.”
She looked over at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He stuck the keys into the ignition. “You seem tense, is all. So I spoke to break the weird silence.”
“That’s because I am tense.”
He locked the doors. “I know a good cure for tension.”
“What is it?” she asked, her hands relaxing in her lap.
“You have to ask me to give it to you, first.” He reached out and tugged on a piece of her long blonde hair, then trailed his fingers over the curve of her breast. She was so soft. So damn touchable. With his free hand, he slid his seat back as far as it would go. “We agreed to the one time…but if you want help…”
Her breasts rose with the deep breath she took. Something seemed to break inside of her, because she launched herself at him and buried her hands in his hair. “Yes. God, yes. Show me.”
“Wait.” He gripped her thigh. “You forgot to say—”
“Please.” She crawled more fully onto his lap, her mouth pressed tight. The skirt of her dress lifted, and she situated a leg on either side of him, opening herself to his touch. To him. It was a tight fit, but he didn’t give a damn. She needed his help? He would fucking give it to her. “Now do it.”
Curling his hands into her hair, he urged her head back, exposing her neck. She hissed at the gentle tug, acquiescing without a fight. “I didn’t like watching you flirt with that asshole tonight.”
“He’s nothing to me.” She licked her lips. “I’m yours. Right here, right now.”
Lowering his lids, he watched her tits, which rose and fell rapidly. And he barely even heard her words. He dropped a kiss on her cleavage, then nipped the skin. Slowly, he trailed his hands down her back and skimmed them to her inner thighs. When he ran his thumb over her satin panties, she moaned and strained to get closer. “After last night, you should be mine.”
“Yes.” She held onto him tightly. “God, yes.”
He curled his hand in her hair again, tugging a little rougher this time. She cried out, grinding against his cock desperately, turned on beyond belief. “Ask. Me. Nicely.”
“Please make me come. Please make it better.” She cupped his face with her small hands, her body aching with need. “Please kiss me. Now.”
He kissed her, his tongue dueling with hers for dominance. He, of course, won. And he could tell that she loved every second of it. She rode his lap, growing more frantic with each passing thrust. She was so fucking close he could feel it, despite the layers of clothing between them.
When she rubbed against his erection and made the little cry she made right before she came, he ended the kiss. “Enough.”
“But—”
“No arguing.” His hands fell on her hips, holding her still. Not letting her use him to seek her pleasure. Not yet, anyway. “It’s not time yet. First, we need to talk about that date…”
She made a frustrated sound and struggled to move out of his grip. To grind against him more. To come. “Damn you, I didn’t do anything wrong. We didn’t have an agreement about not seeing other people.”
No, they didn’t. But it didn’t make him any less frustrated. “I know, but you see…I don’t give a fuck. I don’t know what to tell you, or why I’m so pissed off, but I am.” He reached between them and shoved her panties aside. When his fingers touched her damp flesh, she flung her head back and dug her nails into his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be mine. Say it.”
“I’m sorry. I’m yours. All yours,” she cried out, rocking against his fingers frantically. “Now please take me before I die.”
“Hell yeah.”
Flipping open his console, he moved her back into her own seat, opened his fly, and freed his erection. As soon as he had his dick out, she positioned herself so her mouth was right there. She looked up at him, all green eyes and seduction, and wrapped her hand around him.
It was fucking heaven.
With her mouth poised over the tip, she asked, “May I please?”
“Yes.” Ripping open the condom wrapper, he set it aside. Then he placed his hand around the nape of her neck and urged her closer. “But only till I tell you to stop—and you can’t stop till I say so. Got it?”
“Yes. I’ll listen.”
He pressed her closer, and her mouth closed over him. Groaning at the sensation, he dropped his head back against the headrest. Before he shut out the outside world, he glanced outside. They were still the only car in the parking lot, and no one was nearby. The town car would still be waiting out on the left side of the building, as ordered. On top of that, they were behind a tree.
They had complete privacy…mostly.
But still, he had to make sure not to linger.
“Good girl,” he said, skimming his fingers over her jaw tenderly. She rolled her tongue over the entire length of his cock. His abs seized. “Fuck, that feels good.”
She took more of him into her mouth, moaning. His stomach clenched tight, and he gripped her hair in his fist. The sight of her going down on him, with his fist in her hair, made the magic she was working on him even more intense. She belonged to him.
Right here and now.
And that had to be enough, because it’s all he’d ever get from her. She was a fucking princess… And he wasn’t even close to being good enough for her.
His balls pulled tight to his body, and she cupped them with her hand. Sucking harder, she took his whole dick into her mouth. It felt good. Too good. He pulled on her hair, and she let him go right away. “Enough. Watching you fuck me with that sweet mouth of yours is too much. Put the condom on.”
Closing his dick in her hand, she made quick work of rolling it on him. After she finished, she looked up at him and her pink tongue darted out, wetting her pink lips. “I want to do that again.”
He swallowed past the Sahara Desert that was now his throat. “Maybe next time, if you’re good.” Picking her up, he set her back on his lap. “But now, I need to make you come. But first, ask—”
“Since you asked nicely…” He moved her panties out of the way, and she lowered herself onto him. He hissed as her wet pussy closed around him, squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck me.”
“Well…” Her lips twitched. “I am.”
A laugh escaped him. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“No.”
“You are.” He reached between them, his thumb pressing against her clit. She wiggled her hips, taking him in deeper. “And beautiful. And smart. And mine.”
“Yes.” She threw her head back, her hips rocking quicker. He held still, letting her ride him as fast as she wanted. “All yours.”
“Kiss me, Princess.” He pressed his thumb closer to her clit, rolling it in circles. “I want your mouth on mine when you come. I want to taste it.”
She cupped his neck and kissed him, her hips moving faster. Even though every muscle within him screamed for him to move—to fuck her—he held still, letting her have control this one time. His tongue rolled over hers in tune with his hand, and she rode him harder. Faster.
When she froze, her mouth pressed to his and her nails digging into his shoulders, he growled and took over. Pumping his hips up, he fucked her hard and mercilessly, needing to feel the pleasure he knew she could give him. Needing…her.
Shit.
“Oh my God,” she cried out, meeting each of his thrusts with enthusiasm. “Yes.”
Her pussy tightened over him, almost pushing him out, and he knew she was coming again. He slammed into her one last time, and they orgasmed together. She collapsed against his chest, her breathing erratic. Lifting his arms, he hesitated.
Then he closed them around her and kissed her temple, closing his eyes and enjoying the closeness. It felt…right. “Feel better now, Belle?”
“That definitely helped,” she said, letting out a small laugh. “Wow.”
He grinned. “Told you I knew the solution to tension.”
“So much for one night, huh?” She pushed off his chest, her hair wild and so clearly mussed from a man fucking her thoroughly. He’d done that to her. “Can’t say I’m sorry we broke our rule.”
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