“You,” he says softly, “are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
My heart beats heatedly in my chest and I smile at the sight of him. I lunge towards him, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into the room. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m kissing him passionately, no longer able to control the fire that’s been steadily smoldering in my system throughout the day for this man. When Alec comes up for air, he’s laughing. “No, no, you insatiable vixen. We can’t waste all these people’s hard work.”
“Yes, we can. We can do anything. You’re the prince, remember?” As I speak, I start planting kisses down the length of his neck, but I feel him tense as I get the last few words out.
Still, he smiles down at me tenderly, a hint of lust still shining through. “Won’t you let me take you out first? I think a proper date has been a long time coming.”
Chapter 16
Alec
Jessica is stunning in the red gown, and when she locks her arms around my neck and presses her mouth against mine, it’s all I can do not to slam her down on the bed, strip off that sexy dress, and fuck her senseless for the rest of the evening, dinner plans be damned.
But I resist. I realized after leaving my father and brother yesterday that I have two pressing goals that need to be tended to immediately.
First, I need to show Jessica the very best of everything that Saintland has to offer. One could argue that I do that each time we’re in bed together, but there is more to our country than my glorious princehood.
Equally important is demonstrating to my asshole father and dickhead brother that Jessica is not some mail-order date or rent-by-the-hour companion. I am committed to exploring a long-term relationship with her. The last thing I’m going to do is either stay away from her or send her away.
That’s assuming I’m even capable of sending her anywhere that isn’t right by my side, the voice in my head observes.
When I came back to her hotel room last night, she didn’t answer when I knocked at the door. Claire reported to me earlier that Jessica only woke up when she’d been knocking for several minutes, so she must have been exhausted from traveling.
That was cold goddamn comfort. It was painful walking back to the town car in the chill evening air, my cock rock-hard anticipating all the things I had planned to do to her gorgeous body.
So now, even though I want to lock the door behind me right now and fuck her until she’s incoherent with pleasure, I instead escort her down to the lobby and usher her into an even finer car from the royal fleet. It’s a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, and even Nate can’t hide the joy he takes in driving it.
I’m perplexed. Jessica still looks mildly disappointed.
The tension is thick as we ride through the streets of Sainthall, and it doesn’t help that Jessica, with a wicked grin, slides her hand over the front of my pants, cupping my visible bulge before she gives my cock a squeeze. She keeps her head turned toward the window.
“Oh, what’s that?” she says innocently, as she strokes me through my pants, pointing with her other hand toward an art gallery with an interesting facade.
“An art gallery,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I clear my throat.
Nate intuitively knows to keep his eyes facing forward on the road the entire drive.
We pull up a few minutes later in front of the Diamond Circle, without a doubt the highest-caliber dining establishment in all of Saintland and many of the surrounding European nations. Ultra-wealthy members of high society come from all over the continent to eat here.
I precede Jessica out of the car; she steps out gracefully, only looking a little surprised when cameras start flashing.
I slip her hand into my elbow and pat it, leaning down to speak softly in her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you for the press on the way over—it slipped my mind.”
She beams up at me, her cheeks a little flushed, and I know her panties must be soaked already. “I can’t imagine how you could have forgotten.” Then, because she continually finds ways to surprise me, she turns and gives the photographers standing in a group next to the red carpet runner leading into the building a little wave. They go wild, whistling and calling out questions, which she ignores.
Once we’re inside, being led to our table by a uniformed waiter, I say in a low voice, “So you’ve encountered the press before?”
“I should have mentioned it,” she says casually. “Our mutual friend Christian has been known to attract some attention from time to time.”
A woman who can handle media attention with grace. Damn. The more I learn about Jessica, the more perfect she seems.