by Lauren Smith
Reaching his bedroom door, he crashed it open and strode in, prepared for all the hell and fury that came with drunk, twenty-something females—and instead, as his eyes adjusted, he found a princess in his bed.
Layla clattered behind on her too-tall stilettos. “Jared, wait—”
He pushed the door open, and a yellow beam of light from the hallway cut across the dark room, revealing a figure lying across his bed.
A princess. There was a princess in his bed.
The burgundy-and-gold gown was draped over his comforter with pearls glowing like tiny moons on the bodice of her gown.
What the fuck?
“Please don’t wake her,” Layla begged.
Wake her? Jared shook his head. What nonsense. He wasn’t a romantic. Even though she was certainly a fantasy. All luscious curves and mystery. Her dark auburn hair cascading over the pillow looked soft. His hands ached to reach out and fist in the strands. She looked like the kind of woman a young man dreamed about and ruined his sheets over, the kind of woman he’d stopped dreaming about a long time ago because he was convinced they didn’t exist.
He didn’t turn to look at Layla as he spoke. “Who is that?”
“Felicity Hart. Birthday girl and, more importantly, my best friend.” The threat was heavily implied. Don’t screw with Layla or her friends. Her loyalty in that respect was one of the things he admired most about his brother’s girlfriend.
Layla’s fingers curled around his biceps and squeezed, getting his attention.
“I told her she could sleep in your room since you weren’t supposed to be here. It’s the only place available for her to sleep.”
“I’m not giving up my bed. I worked seventy hours this week. I’m going to sleep.” He got one step inside his room before Layla practically tackled him, climbing up his back like a spider monkey.
“You. Will. Not. Wake. Her. Up,” Layla growled, nails digging into his arms. “She has a really important research paper due tomorrow, and she needs to sleep.”
“She can stay, but I’m sharing my bed with her. End of discussion. Go back to your party.” With a little shove, he made sure Layla couldn’t get back in before he shut the door in her face.
When he turned back around, he studied the girl in his bed. Without the hallway light he could barely make out her features. Just a silhouette, really, of a princess. Arousal slammed into him. He felt like an idiot. He never dated anyone who was still in school. They were too young. A year ago he’d tried to date a girl who was twenty-four, but she’d gotten pissed every time he’d had to work late. She didn’t get the pressures of his job. None of the girls younger than him seemed to understand that. Layla was all right, but she was still a kid. He needed someone mature who was at the same point in her life as him, an adult.
The hot little princess was the last thing he needed to be thinking about.
Don’t think about her or how much fun it would be to wake her up and kiss her. Just be a gentleman and go to bed.
His inner voice was a goddamn control freak, but he was thankful someone was still responsible.
Turning away, he started to strip out of his work clothes. He kicked his shoes off and then slipped a pair of pajama bottoms on. He didn’t bother with a shirt. He always got a little hot at night anyway. As he moved deeper into the room, he caught his foot on a chair. It screeched as it slid across the wood, and he winced, catching himself against the back of it. He glanced at the bed, but the girl hadn’t woken. A few quick steps and then he hit the bed, landing on his stomach and bouncing a little. The princess next to him didn’t stir. He shifted a couple of inches and slid one arm beneath his pillow to puff it up as he laid his head down. The toll of the night’s celebrations dragged him to the edge of the abyss of sleep. He was so close…
A little gasp and a half-strangled whimper pulled him to the surface again. “Whah?” He groaned and rolled onto his side facing the girl.
She was thrashing and whimpering beside him. Her hands clawed at the bodice of her dress, as though trying to escape it.
“Damn it!” He sat up and flicked on the lamp by his side of the bed. The wash of color in the room showed how flushed the girl was. She still shifted and kicked, moaning as if in pain. Jared leaned over and gently jostled her shoulder.
“Hey, kid, wake up.”
She jolted awake. Bright gray eyes like liquid mercury flashed in shock and fear as her gaze fell on him.
“Hi,” he said.
The princess blinked, her eyes darting around the room, then back to him, focusing on his bare chest. Her pupils dilated.
“Did we…um…who—” She shook her head as though to clear it. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
Jared let out a raspy chuckle. “I’m the one who should be asking questions. But it’s been a long day and I’m beat. I’m Jared, and you are in my bed.”
He stood and walked back to his cherrywood dresser. His fingers curled around the brass handle, and he opened the top drawer.
“You’re Tanner’s brother?” Her voice was soft, husky. It rolled over him, soothing his irritation.
He selected a silk striped button-down nightshirt and a pair of boxers from his drawer and then returned to the bed. “Here.” He held the clothes out to her.
“What are those for?” she asked. One elegant brow rose.
“You. You woke up clawing at your dress. Looks like it’s too tight around your chest and it’s restricting your breathing. Unless you have clothes of your own, you’re changing into these so we can both get some sleep. Layla said you had some paper due tomorrow.”
When she opened her mouth, he could see the protest in her eyes and it amused him. Feisty little thing. And damned if he didn’t picture all the things he’d like to do to that little mouth.
“Take the clothes and change in the bathroom. Now.” He deepened his voice, and she hopped out of bed, snatching the clothes as she darted into the bathroom. She froze, then slowly looked over her shoulder at him.
“What?”
“My dress…it’s the laces in the back. I can’t reach them.”
A sigh escaped him. “Come here.” He crooked a finger and sat farther back on his bed. She sidled up to him, bashfulness in her every movement.
There was something sinful and suggestive about the way she nibbled her bottom lip. He twirled a finger, indicating for her to spin around. She offered her back to him. The silk ribbons on the back of her gown came undone easily enough, but he was surprised to see the second set of laces beneath, which belonged to a corset. It was black with embroidered red roses that set off the color of the loose tangles of her hair. The strands teased the back of his hands as he unlaced the corset. The creamy skin of her lower back made his mouth go dry. The princess was trying to kill him with these temptations.
All too soon the view disappeared as she rushed into the adjoining bathroom to change.
He fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers tapped a rhythm on his stomach as he waited. This was not at all how he’d predicted his night would go. He wasn’t complaining—not exactly.
The princess emerged, gown gone. She looked so young, standing there dwarfed in his button-down shirt and a hint of his boxers beneath the hem at her mid-thighs. Her gorgeous hair was wild and long, and it looked like she’d been well loved in bed. He didn’t miss the swell of her full breasts against the thin, expensive silk. The top button was low down her chest, exposing a wealth of creamy skin. Damn.
He was about to say something bad, something that his exhausted mind would probably get him slapped for, when his bedroom door burst open and light from the hallway illuminated them both.
“Dude…found a bed.” A man wearing the bottom half of a stormtrooper costume stumbled toward Jared’s bed. Behind him trailed a girl in a Playboy Bunny outfit.
Jared glanced at Felicity, who’d frozen in shock, her hands pulling the button-up shirt closed against her throat, her cheeks a bright pink in the dim lig
ht.
“Oh…hey…” The stormtrooper finally noticed Jared as Jared got to his feet, scowling. “Do you mind if we—”
“Get the fucking hell out of my room,” Jared growled. “Now.” He may have been almost half-dead with fatigue, but he could still throw a punch if he needed to.
“But come on, man, I want to get laid…” the boy whispered too loudly, and the bunny behind him giggled.
“I’ll lay you flat on your goddamn ass if you don’t get lost.” Jared took a menacing step toward the inebriated pair, and they stumbled back into the hall. Jared didn’t hesitate. He slammed his bedroom door in the wooden frame and clicked the lock into place before he turned back to face Felicity. Her hand was covering her mouth, and her eyes were wide.
“Sorry about that, princess. I locked the door. No one else will stumble in—I promise.”
She blinked, dropped her hand, and then her eyes drifted from the door to his face as though debating whether she was safe with him in a locked room.
“Come on. I don’t bite.” Hard, he silently added, and flashed what he knew was a wolfish grin.
“I could sleep elsewhere,” she hedged, playing with the collar of the button-down shirt. “Layla said you’d be gone all weekend.”
“It’s fine. This thing is a California king. Plenty of room for both of us. It’s just one night.”
He waited for her to pad on little bare feet to her side of the bed. It dipped slightly as she got in under the covers. She tensed when he crawled beneath the blankets, but after a moment, when he didn’t move toward her, she blew out a breath. He rolled away to turn off the lamp by his bedside, then settled back, puffing his pillow again as he lay on his back and closed his eyes. A sweet, subtle scent filled his nose, like vanilla and fresh rain. When the princess shifted, trying to get comfortable, the scent grew stronger. Her scent.
“Thanks for letting me stay. I’m Felicity, by the way.”
He could hear the yawn in her voice, and it made him grin.
“Good night, princess,” he murmured.
She didn’t respond. The soft little sound of her faint breaths did something funny to his chest. It tightened, and he sucked in a deep breath, hoping to ease the tension.
Now was not the time to be having a soft spot for a woman. He had so much to worry about at work, especially with Shana and her father. There wasn’t time to seduce a sweet little princess, even if he wanted to. She really was a cute little thing, though.
Not for me. He sighed and let his body crash.
Chapter 2
The cell phone alarm buzzed, a light musical chime accompanying the vibrations. Felicity fumbled on the nightstand for the phone and silenced it.
6:00 a.m. Two and a half hours until her American Colonial Art paper was due. The urge to get up and get moving just wasn’t there. The bed was warm, and she felt safe. The last thing she wanted to do was get up and think about a bunch of colonists and loyalists duking it out in the seventeen hundreds and how that had affected painting styles in Colonial America. Right now she wanted to stay where she was, cocooned in heat, and drift back to that pleasant place between being awake and dreaming.
It was then she noticed the long, muscled arm curled around her waist, tucking her back against a hard, warm body.
What the—
Another rattling buzz. This time it came from the other side of the bed. She rolled over, careful not to wake the man in bed next to her. A wall of muscled male chest met her face. Her gaze raked up the bare torso of the man to his face where it rested on his pillow.
Jared Redmond.
She was sharing a bed with Tanner’s brother. Had she really let him untie her dress and corset last night? Her eyes closed for a brief instant as she pushed back her shyness. He was still asleep, and she took advantage of it to study his face. It was a nice face, not too handsome, yet somehow sexy and incredibly attractive. Strong jaw, aquiline nose, too-long dark eyelashes fanned over slightly tanned skin. Dark brows winged over eyes that she knew had to be dark brown like his brother’s. He was the sort of man who wasn’t a pretty boy, yet he had some serious animal magnetism even while he slept.
Her fingers tingled as she resisted the urge to reach out and trace his lips. The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top. His hair was a rich chocolate, long enough to tunnel her fingers through. Would it be silky or slightly rough in texture? She nibbled her bottom lip.
This was the closest she’d ever been to a man before—at least in bed—and it was fascinating and a little unnerving. A shadow of a beard made him look older, a little rugged. The pit of her stomach dropped, and she shivered with excitement. He was only thirty, but that felt so much older than her at the moment. He was a man.
Jared had the body of a man, unlike the graduate student guys in her classes. He was hot and dangerous looking, and every time she thought about that, her stomach quivered. She was in his bed, as he’d said the night before. She’d been helpless to resist when he’d gently commanded her to undress with that deep baritone voice of his. She glanced down at herself. His shirt and boxers were large and comfortable on her, and the intimacy of wearing his clothes had her heart thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings.
That other phone was buzzing again on his side of the bed. Suddenly he jerked, rolling away as he picked up the phone.
Had he been awake this whole time? Did he know she’d been just staring at him? Had he meant to be holding her so close when she’d woken up?
God, I’m such an idiot.
“Hell,” Jared muttered and fell back on his bed, eyes closed, his phone silenced. Two breaths more, and then he spoke again. “So you getting up? I’ll let you shower first.”
“What?” He was offering her his shower? Before she wouldn’t have thought twice about using it, but now that its owner was here, she’d figured she’d skip it until after her test. The idea of her being naked with just a door between them sent a little shiver through her.
“The shower. It’s yours. I’m still waking up.” He twisted to face her, propping his head on his hand to stare at her.
“Get moving, princess. Or else I might give in to my desire to kiss you. A man can only stand so much temptation.” He chuckled.
Felicity shot out of the bed like she’d been fired out of a cannon. Kiss her? Was he serious?
“I’m a good kisser,” he called out after her.
He was still laughing, probably because of the look she knew he must be seeing on her face. His grin hit her right behind the knees. She retreated, her back hitting his dresser.
“I…um…have a term paper due.” That was stupid. She was making it worse by opening her mouth. She mentally smacked herself and ran to the shower. Cranking the nozzle to hot, she picked up her bag from the bathroom floor and searched for her toiletries.
The water burned her skin, and she sighed. Her own apartment had hot water only when the water heater thought it could handle the building’s demands, which wasn’t often. And when it did bother to work, the pipes rocked inside the walls, creating a banging noise that drove her crazy.
Staying here at Jared’s apartment was like staying in a four-star hotel. Scrubbing her face in her hands, she let the water pour over her. The tension in her shoulders eased. Not once last night had she woken up. Where she’d grown up, she’d fallen asleep to the melody of crickets and other country sounds. But here in Chicago, with her apartment’s paper-thin walls, all she heard were the violent sounds of the city outside. Ambulances, shouting neighbors, banging pipes, slamming stairwell doors, and the endless creaks and groans as the elevator ground through its gears. Felicity was lucky to get even an hour or two of uninterrupted sleep. Last night had been amazing. Just silence and warmth. Ironically, sleeping with a total stranger—and a man, at that—had been one of the most restful nights of sleep she’d had in a long time.
Felicity’s skin tingled as she remembered the way it felt to roll over and see him so close. Shock aside, it had been nice. Layla must never f
ind out. She’d try to hook her up with Jared. It would be a bad idea. Between school and work, she didn’t have time. Not to mention she and Jared were nothing alike and had nothing in common. He was a hotshot lawyer, and she was an art student. She doubted he’d even be interested in her, his jokes about kisses aside.
Rinsing the last bit of soap and conditioner away, she slipped out of the shower and pulled one of the large fluffy white towels off the shelf next to the shower. The towel fit around her body perfectly, and she was able to tuck the corner of it in near the tops of her breasts to keep it on so she could rummage around the drawers of the bathroom counter. There had to be a hairdryer in here somewhere. She hadn’t thought to pack one since Layla had said she could borrow one, but it wasn’t as though she could go parading past Jared in nothing but a towel to find Layla’s hairdryer.
“What do you need?”
Jared’s deep voice made her freeze as she bent over the drawer, her bottom in the air.
“I can help you find whatever you need…although I do love this angle, if you want to keep looking for whatever it is.”
“Oh!” She whirled around, hands clutching her towel so it wouldn’t drop.
When she raised her gaze, she found him standing in the open bathroom door, wearing only pajama pants. He leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. His body was lightly tan, the muscles lean but impressive now that she could see them at a better angle. His pants hung on his narrow hips, and she gulped at the visible V-shaped line of muscles at his hips that seemed to point farther south to places hidden from her eyes. A perfect six-pack. How did a guy get those? They looked too good to be true. She certainly didn’t look like she lived in the gym. Her fingers went white-knuckled on the towel. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her fuller figure. No matter how many diets she tried or how much she exercised, she could never get down to anything below a size twelve.
“What are you looking for?” he asked again. His gaze lazily drifted from her face down the length of her body. Was that approval in his eyes? Why did she suddenly want him to approve of her?