Ruling the Princess

by Christi Barth

  He ran his fingertips across the eight empty candleholders with a golden flame in the center. “They must’ve been a bitch to wrap.”

  Genevieve…well, she didn’t giggle. She snorted. He’d cut the tension perfectly, taken her out of princess mode and turned them into nothing more than two people talking. Theo had a knack for doing that. And oh, Genevieve appreciated dropping the pretense at perfection and simply being herself.

  “You’re probably right.”

  Dark-brown eyes fastened on her. Dark, but also warm and interested. “Are you okay with giving away an, ah, emotional heirloom?”

  It was a thoughtful question. But one thing royalty never lacked was excess. Genevieve spun in a slow circle, waving a hand at all the beautiful tchotchkes in the room.

  “As you can see, there are plenty more. I’ve lived my life surrounded by my mother’s things. Kelsey has almost nothing. Just a necklace that Aunt Mathilde passed along. She deserves more. As much as she wants.”

  “That’s very fair-minded of you.” And the look in those brown eyes turned warmer, more considering.

  Did he really see her as so materialistic, so spoiled, that it surprised him that she could share? That stung. Although to someone unused to the lavishness of royalty, her spending probably did give the wrong impression.

  Oh.

  Oh crap.

  Now Genevieve was seeing Theo’s side.

  And her childish move during the ceremony was even more regrettable. She’d have to apologize. Which she hated. Not because princesses were always right. But because it always sucked, no matter who you were, to admit when you were wrong.

  Clasping her hands, she said, “Kelsey’s my sister. Admittedly, the parameters of that relationship are a work in progress. But we’re working at it.”

  “Good for you. My sister and I…” Theo wrinkled his Roman nose as if catching the scent of a dead mouse in the wall. “Well, I don’t think either of us make an effort.”

  Ooh, another personal tidbit being doled out. Genevieve latched onto it, wanting to get to know the complex man being revealed behind the stern, stubborn official façade. “Do you take her for granted?”

  “Not a bit. We just never spent much time together to cement a bond. Occasional vacations. We’re different people with very different lives. I’d hoped to spend more time with her while here, but we’re not off to a great start.”

  She laid a sympathetic hand on his biceps. His rock-hard biceps that she had no chance of being able to wrap her hand completely around.

  Wasn’t that just the sexiest thing ever?

  “That’s a shame. Christian’s an annoying, stubborn know-it-all—”

  “Takes one to know one,” he interrupted, with a wry twist to his full lips. His agile, magical lips.

  How on earth was she getting distracted with the thought of his kisses while talking about her brother? Theo’s pull was beyond dangerous. And looking more and more to be undeniable.

  So Genevieve snatched her hand back. “Yes, my brother can be a pain. But Christian’s everything to me. We squabble, of course. He drives me crazy with his competitive streak. Don’t ever play cards with him,” she warned playfully.

  “Don’t worry. The chances of my being invited to hang with the heir to the throne are slim.”

  The bitterness that coated each word shocked her. Genevieve was opening up about her brother, not the crown prince.

  His attitude was beyond random. Far beyond the ubiquitous “why would a royal want to spend time with ordinary me” attitude that she and Christian so often ran up against in their visits around the country.

  What was that about?

  Why did she have more questions than answers the more time she spent with Theo?

  For now, all she could do was finish her point. Especially since Christian was the least snobby, least entitled royal in all of Europe.

  “Christian always makes time for me. He goes out of his way to spend time with me, because we truly have fun together, even at the most boring of ceremonies or speeches. He’s an ally in this isolating life. He truly listens to me…” Genevieve trailed off as a surprising truth became clear. “…like you do.”

  His lip curled. “You’re a princess. I imagine everyone listens to you.”

  “You’d be wrong,” she said simply.

  It was a typical misconception. Along the same lines of the assumption that she always got whatever she wanted, that she got to do whatever she wanted.

  Being a princess wasn’t easy. Not at all.

  Theo huffed out a breath of disbelief. “You’re a part of one of the oldest ruling houses in the world.”

  “Yes. But today’s world isn’t quite as, ah, enamored of monarchies as they once were. You’re living proof of it.” Genevieve jabbed a finger against his starched shirtfront. “You didn’t hide the fact from the moment we met that you’re anti-royal.”

  “Minds can be changed.”

  “That’s an intriguing thought. Whose mind is changing in this hypothetical scenario?”

  Like a whip crack of ice through the room, his emotion certainly changed. As did the heavy-lidded, sensual droop to his eyes and mouth. His entire body straightened. Lips thinned into a tight line. A deep furrow cut vertically between his brows.

  “I’ll tell you whose mind isn’t changing. My father. I’m pissed at you, Princess.” Theo swiveled his neck back and forth, taking in the whole room. “Can we fight in here?”

  Even while bracing for whatever he was about to throw at her, Genevieve had to bite back a smile. Because that was such a considerate question. An indication that not only did Theo realize how special her mother’s room was to her, but that he didn’t want to taint it with ugliness.

  An indication that her feelings were just as important as the anger he wanted to unload. That fairness shocked and impressed her.

  It made her want to cuddle into his chest and hug him. Which wasn’t an ideal way to go into a fight.

  So, Genevieve gave a sharp nod and put the length of a burgundy Oriental rug between them to prevent her from giving in to the hug urge. She would’ve gone farther, but her shoulders bumped against the wall. “Better to do in here than where anyone could hear us. I take it you have a grievance to air?”

  He reached out to grip the dark cherry wood curled edge of the fireplace mantel. “What you did to embarrass me during the ceremony was mean-spirited. An abuse of your power. Downright childish.”

  Well, she’d anticipated this fight coming since he’d barreled down the hall toward her. Stalling was pointless. More importantly, any defense was pointless.

  Genevieve bowed her head. “Yes.”

  A long moment of quiet showed that her immediate acquiescence took him aback. When she looked up, his mouth gaped open.

  Finally, Theo pushed off the fireplace. With slow, measured steps, he approached her as he spoke. “You have no idea what you cost me with that stunt.”

  “Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth it. I’m truly sorry.”

  His eyebrows crinkled together as he closed the last few feet between them. “What’s going on? I’m jonesing for a fight. Usually you give as good as you get. But you’re not giving me much to work with here.”

  “There’s only a fight when people are on opposite sides of an issue.” Theo was now so close that Genevieve had to tilt her head back to keep looking him in the eye. She’d kicked off her pumps upon entering the room for a few minutes respite. Unfortunately, it made the easily six-inch height difference much more noticeable. As if she didn’t feel small enough already, making these admissions. “In this case, I completely agree with you. It showed poor judgment on my part. My behavior was inexcusable. But by all means, keep yelling at me for as long as you’d like. I deserve it.”

  “Princess,” he groaned. Theo speared his fingers through his hair. “Why’d
you do it?”

  “I was mad. You’d attacked me, my family, our traditions. Fighting you didn’t get me anywhere. Going along with a request I knew to be foolish seemed like a foolproof strategy to make you see my side. Yes, I wanted to defend myself. Pride, however, weighed in just as much.”

  This was why Genevieve rarely schemed. Or played games. Honesty was the best choice nine out of ten times. Ego and pride had no place at all in decision-making.

  Worse yet? She knew that.

  Theo cracked his neck on one side then the other. “You made a mockery of what I’m trying to accomplish—for the sake of you and your family’s continued longevity on the throne, might I add.”

  “Yes. Again, I’m dreadfully sorry about besmirching you. In hindsight, I should’ve explained to you how it would affect something as revered as the Order of the Peacock ceremony. Come at you with reason rather than sneakiness.”

  “I can be reasonable.”

  “I know.”

  She did. With each of their daily interactions, Theo dropped more and more of his unyielding forcefulness. He listened to her explanations of what was and wasn’t necessary. They’d already come to an agreement on a few items of budget-trimming. Such as her every three-week lash extensions.

  Genevieve just didn’t like the idea of the entire audit process and wanted to make it go away. Wanted to make the risk of embarrassment to her family go away.

  Which did not at all excuse her embarrassing Theo in front of his family. She had to make this right.

  “This was my shot to talk to my father when he was in a good, royal-ass-licking mood.” He removed his coat, tossing it onto the floor. The move revealed the breadth of his pecs and shoulders straining against the shirt and vest. “You ruined both his mood and my chance to get him to listen.”

  Genevieve wanted to ask what was so important—or contentious—that he needed to tread so carefully with his father. But this wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to make up for her careless actions.

  After biting her lower lip, she asked, “Is there a way I can help fix it?”

  “The situation with my father?” Theo canted forward from his hips. He braced his palms on the wall, caging her in. “I’d have to think on it.”

  Heat pumped off of every inch of his body. Genevieve was on the verge of melting, and they weren’t technically even touching. “What about your bad mood?”

  His eyes cut away to the side. “Fuck, Princess. It’s hard to stay angry when you apologized so well…and even made a believable case for why you did it. You didn’t set out to sabotage the talk with my father.”

  “No.” Genevieve licked her lips, self-conscious. Because now that his gaze had swung back to her, it was fixed on her mouth. “Again, I’m very sorry.”

  Theo lowered his head until his lips were lined up a hair’s breadth away from hers. “Prove it.”

  Oh, a challenge?

  Okay.

  He’d accepted her apology. But she’d bet that he still had a lot of pent-up adrenaline in his system that needed to be burned off, since their fight had fizzled so quickly. So she’d give him what he needed.

  She’d give him everything.

  Genevieve hiked up her tight skirt. The she jumped up, hoping he’d catch her as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. Great instincts—sexy instincts—had his hands on her butt instantly. Whew. Her legs scissored around his hips. And for a man who’d been grumpy a nanosecond ago, that was an astoundingly impressive insta-erection pressed against her core.

  Using her teeth, she scraped a line down the edge of his ear, tugging on his lobe. Genevieve nibbled her way across his lower jaw slowly. Teasingly. Stretching out what she knew he craved.

  Then she locked onto Theo’s mouth. She attacked it. She kissed him fiercely, thrusting her tongue in and out, fighting with his in an effort to take control. Because after the first touch of their lips, he’d pressed her tight against the wall. And immediately tried to take over the kiss.

  Well, good. That gave them something to fight about. Genevieve scrabbled to loosen his tie. She yanked at the knot until the loop widened enough to drag it over his head.

  “Stop it. Stop doing things. Just kiss me,” he ordered.

  “I think not. I want to touch you.”

  “All you had to do was say the word.” Theo slanted his mouth across hers again. He swung around, took a few steps, then deposited her on the red velvet chaise lounge. “But I expect tit for tat.”

  A half laugh, half groan burbled in her throat. “I respect a man who can pun while stripping.”

  “Princess, you have no idea the number of things I can do while stripping.” Vest undone, he tossed it on top of his coat.

  Competition was just an off-shoot of fighting, right? Genevieve knew they excelled at both. And it was fun. So she fumbled beneath the heavy folds of ruffles cascading down her chest to pop the row of buttons and snaps. Both of their shirts fell open at exactly the same time.

  Was it Christmas already? Because Theo’s abs were certainly a present. Rippled.

  Ripped.

  Defined.

  Delicious.

  In a deep lunge, Theo knelt on the cushion next to her and grabbed for her hands. “Let me look at you.” There was awe in his voice. Raw appreciation.

  Genevieve had never felt more beautiful. Not when sitting for her official portrait on her eighteenth birthday in a ballgown and tiara. Not when a crowd of thousands applauded when she waved from the balcony of Alcarsa Palace.

  No, the hungry look in Theo’s eyes was the best compliment she’d ever received. This despite the fact that she was in her official duty bra—a thoroughly boring, padded, very full coverage white satin that ensured there was no possibility ever of so much as a hint at her nipples through her clothes.

  But she couldn’t bear any more waiting. “Enough looking. I need a man of action right now.”

  “You need me, Princess.” There was smugness in his tone…but then, if Theo knew he could deliver, the smugness was warranted, wasn’t it?

  He didn’t start at her breasts. No, he put his lips on the inside of her wrist. On the thin skin that was so sensitive to the wet brush of his tongue. Wielding it almost like a brush, he painted long, wet licks up to the crook of her elbow. Goose bumps—half anticipation, half sensation—erupted down her arms.

  Belatedly, Genevieve realized he’d dropped her other hand. She raked her nails through his thick, short hair. Curled her palm around the nape of his neck. And then luxuriated in stroking across the warm breadth of Theo’s back.

  Was that a tattoo along the edge of his ribs? How unexpected. Even more unexpected that even the edge of ink she’d glimpsed stirred a deeper desire. Genevieve tried to angle up to see the design.

  That angling also positioned her breast at his lips. A bare breast, because at some point during the traverse up her arm, Theo had managed to one-handedly undo her bra. Oh, the man was smooth.

  Smooth and rough. Teeth pinched around her nipple, hard enough to make her suck in a breath—and then let it out in a moan. His hand roughly—just rough enough—squeezed her other breast.

  Theo wasn’t treating her like a delicate, respected princess.

  He was treating her like a desirable woman.

  Genevieve loved it.

  She raked her nails down his back to show her approval, her own want for him.

  Theo bit and sucked, pinched and laved and licked until her entire world was centered between his lips. Her hips shifted up and down, aching for more. Oh, the hard girth against her core was unmistakable. But layers of skirt and trousers between them kept it from doing anything but inflaming her.

  There was no relief.

  Only a growing heat, a lust, a primal need.

  Genevieve wriggled down a bit to scrape her teeth against his throat. A low, dark hum
of approval punched out of him. Talk about a fun cause and effect.

  Emboldened, Genevieve circled her palms over his pecs, feeling the tight nubs of his nipples. She traced her fingertips through the light mat of dark brown hair that bisected his chest. His hand worked its way up her thigh beneath her skirt to cup her ass—albeit through the ubiquitous pantyhose.

  God, his palm and outstretched fingers managed to cover all of her. She wanted to feel the heat of that big hand everywhere.

  With a hard swing of her hips, she managed to push him off a bit. Just enough to fit her hand around his thick shaft.

  Theo winced. In a good and bad way. “Careful, Princess. Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

  “Who says we can’t?”

  “Isn’t there a room full of people downstairs waiting on you to start the luncheon?”

  “There’s passed hors d’ouevres first, Theo.”

  “Regardless.” He dropped a soft kiss between her breasts, then another, more lingering one on her lips. “I shouldn’t have let this get so out of hand.”

  “I disagree. I think this is exactly what we needed.”

  “To clear the air between us, yes. But I’m not taking you in a quickie on your mom’s couch with half the peers in the kingdom waiting.”

  She put a hand on his cheek, holding his gaze with her own. “How long do you plan to take?”

  “Long enough, Princess.”

  What a delicious promise.

  Chapter Ten

  Theo didn’t like being chauffeured around. Riding with the princess wasn’t like taking an Uber in Manhattan. There was a level of privilege attached to sitting in this backseat that he hated.

  But he did like the solid panel between them and her security detail, as well as the princess rubbing her hand up and down his thigh.

  “Again, I’m so sorry about what happened at the Order of the Peacock ceremony. No, not what happened. That doesn’t take enough responsibility. I’m sorry for what I did to you.”