Page 45 of A Royal Mistake
Pippa’s tongue tangled with his own and he forgot all about coming on too strong. There was only one thought in his mind—Pippa.
He’d known they had chemistry, but nothing had prepared him for this kind of unbridled passion. He slid a hand up her back, and her skin was so soft and smooth he might not have realized he’d crossed the threshold from dress to bare skin if it weren’t for the fact that she was scorching hot. Her skin was on fire. It was as if she were burning up from the inside out.
Her nails scraped the back of his neck before she buried them in his hair and he groaned, the sound muffled by her bare shoulder.
“Christ, Pippa. You feel so good.”
“Mmmhmm,” she purred, rubbing her body against his, as if trying to get closer. Which was impossible, since she was wearing enough fabric to dress thirty debutantes.
There were voices in the distance, but he ignored them. Ignored everything beyond the woman in his arms and the sexy little noises she was making as he trailed open mouth kisses along her jawline and neck. Her skin was so damn sweet. He couldn’t get enough of it, couldn’t get enough of her. He could spend the entire night devouring her tender flesh and it still wouldn’t be enough. He’d need days. Or maybe months.
“What the hell is going on out here?”
He froze.
Verdammt.
Pippa dropped her forehead to his shoulder and muttered. “Bugger all.”
He released his grip on her as his sanity came rushing back with a sizable dose of self-loathing. They’d gotten carried away with one another. Been careless. And now they’d been busted making out in the garden like a couple of horny teenagers.
Pippa straightened and whirled toward the voice. “What are you doing out here, Xander?”
“The better question is, what are you doing out here?” Prince Alexander shot back, looking from Pippa to Henry and back again. A slim brunette stood beside him, the press of her lips suggesting she was working very hard not to laugh. “You’re the bloody guest of honor and you’re sneaking around in the garden snogging some wanker, who, as far as I can tell, isn’t on the approved list of suitors.” He paused long enough to shake his head in dismay. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are that it was Evie and I who found you and not one of those bloody reporters?” He raked a hand through his hair, face as red as an heirloom tomato. “Jesus, Pippa. Did you think at all before you went trotting off with this guy?” He glared at Henry. “You know what? Don’t even answer that.”
Pippa leveled her brother with a cool gaze. “Are you quite finished?”
“Let’s go. I’m taking you back to the ball.” He gestured for her to lead the way. “I never should have let you out of my sight.”
She snorted. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Remind me again how many tabloid covers you’ve graced?” Without waiting for an answer, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Evie. “And what exactly are you two doing out here?”
“That’s none of your business,” Prince Alexander shot back, flustered. “Besides, neither of us is hosting a ballroom full of suitors.”
The man had a point. It had been irresponsible to bring Pippa out here. She had an obligation to fulfill, and if the press caught sight of her with red cheeks and swollen lips, well, there wouldn’t be much doubt about what they’d been doing. They’d both be in hot water.
Fuck. Helping Pippa with her ridiculous schemes was one thing, but if the papers thought he was a real contender for her hand, they’d turn his life inside out. His face would be on every tabloid the world over and it wouldn’t take long for his heritage to be exposed, his anonymity eliminated. Worse yet, if Prince Alexander told his brother what he’d seen, Henry could kiss his partnership with the Royal Foundation goodbye. Because whatever strings Pippa planned to pull on his behalf were unlikely to outweigh the scandal of a late-night tryst—especially after the bad press from the motorcycle ride.
Serves you right for following your cock around like an Arschloch.
Henry scrubbed a hand over his face. He had to fix this.
“Why don’t we all just calm down and take a deep breath?” Evie suggested, placing a hand on Prince Alexander’s arm.
“Talk to him,” Pippa said, lifting her chin. “He’s the one pulling the overprotective big brother routine.”
Evie grinned. “I have to say, it’s a side of your brother I’ve never seen before and I don’t hate it.”
Pippa sniffed. “Well, that makes one of us.”
“Don’t be upset with Pippa,” Henry said, determined to smooth things over. “This is entirely my—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Pippa warned, narrowing her eyes at him. There was steel in her voice when she continued. “I’m a grown-ass woman and I can make my own choices. And right now, I choose to stay in the garden. And you,” she said, pointing at her brother. “I will go back to the palace when I’m damn well good and ready and not a moment sooner. I’m not some kid you can order around anymore. I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.”
The prince looked like he very much doubted it, but he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.
“Let’s go.” Evie took the prince’s hand in hers. “I’m sure Henry will get Pippa back in one piece.” She turned and gave him a meaningful look. “Right, Henry?”
“Of course,” he agreed, making a mental note to never cross either of these formidable women.