Page 130 of American Royalty

Her heart melted. “I know. I’ve missed you, too.”

“Really? Because you’ve been looking really cozy with Cooper.”

She drew back, as if stung. She wasn’t in the mood for this shit. Not tonight.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m surprised you even noticed considering Lady Imogen’s been hanging off your arm like a rare Birkin.”

They sat there, the silence loud.

“What’s a Birkin?” he finally asked.

“What do you want, Jay? I’m exhausted. And, in case you’ve forgotten, I have a big performance tomorrow. I should be in bed.”

“Then let’s go.”

She put a hand on his arm.

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know what we said. And it makes sense. It truly does. In a few days you’re going home, hopefully to good news about your business.”

“And you’ll begin work on the new award you created to honor your grandfather and take over patronage of his charities.”

“Yes.”

She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know what your grandmother told you, but you’re not going to be able to go back to teaching. You know that, right?”

The world had gotten a taste of him. There was no way he could return to hiding his light on a college campus. Whatever deference the school and the press had given him before would be over. He’d never be treated as just one of the faculty again.

He sighed. “I hope that’s not true.”

“But if it is you’ll begin your full-time duties as an official working member of the royal family.”

They’d dictate his life: what he did, where he went, who he could see.

Jameson closed his eyes and shook his head. “This can’t work.”

“This can’t work,” she agreed, even as her heart was breaking.

“Then why do I want you with a fever that never cools? Why does your absence, both actual and perceived, cause an ache in my heart nothing short of your presence can alleviate?”

His words were so fucking intoxicating. “Oh, baby.”

“I need you, Dani. And that need isn’t governed by notions of time, familial duty, or patriotism. It’s about you and me and being as close as two people can be. I don’t know if I’ll be able to let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

Their lips came together, fusing more than their bodies. But what started out frantic and wild settled into something deep and lingering. She took her time, slanting her mouth over his, caressing him with her tongue, grazing his jaw with her teeth. She savored the experience, like sipping a vintage bottle of champagne or listening to a great album. As if it was the last time she’d ever have the pleasure.

Because it was the last time she’d ever have him.

She worked her way down to his chest and her hands shook, fumbling in her need to unbutton his shirt. Getting it done, she scraped her nails over his taut torso. He trembled and gripped her hips.

She wanted to be closer. She crawled onto his lap, rotating her hips and grinding against him. He threw his head back and moaned as his cock thickened and lengthened beneath her. She took in his sexy sounds, saved them to revisit later.

“My turn,” he rasped, flipping her onto her back. Reverentially, he spread open her robe and audibly inhaled at her bareness. “Jesus, Dani, there are no words to describe how fucking beautiful you are.”

He stuck his thumb in his mouth before massaging the moisture into her tightly budded nipple. She hissed and arched into his touch.

“Hmmmm,” he moaned, the sound low and needy and sexy as fuck.