Page 28 of Royal Trouble

Everly gave a wry smile. “Must be an older sibling thing. I ran into Katherine at the polo match, and she invited me for coffee. She wants to ‘catch up,’” she said, making air quotes, “like a thirty-minute coffee chat will make up for twenty-six years of pretending I don’t exist.”

Her words twisted like a knife in the gut. Despite all the rumors swirling around his own legitimacy, Liam and Pippa had always been by his side. They’d never treated him as anything but their brother. He could only imagine what it had been like for Everly to grow up with siblings who wouldn’t even acknowledge her existence. “Will you go?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” She scrunched up her nose and laughed. “Pathetic, right?”

“Not at all. It’s natural to be curious about your family, to want to know them.”

Unless they’re complete pricks.

“My mother is the only family I need,” she said.

The fierceness of her words caught him off guard, and he reached across the table, taking her hand in his and caressing the back of her wrist with his thumb. Her pulse thrummed at his touch, and the desire to claim her lips blotted out all rational thought.

This was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea. He was supposed to be comforting her—not seducing her—but fuck it. He wasn’t exactly an expert on touchy-feely shit, so he’d play to his strengths. She’d either give in to the chemistry and let him give her a mind-blowing orgasm, or she’d send him back to the party with a rock-solid case of blue balls.

Either way, the scene in the garden would be a distant memory.

“In my experience,” he said, pitching his voice low, “want and need are rarely—if ever—the same thing.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she said, lifting her champagne flute unsteadily.

Xander raised his glass and leveled his gaze at her. “To getting what you want and finding what you need.”

Chapter Seven

Everly sucked down her champagne like a chocoholic guzzling cacao from a fountain. Xander was giving her that look again. The one that implied what he wanted was right in front of him and ripe for the picking, if her traitorous body was any indication. How the hell had they gone from talking about her fucked-up family life to smoldering bedroom eyes in point-five seconds?

She couldn’t even blame the alcohol because she was only on her first glass of champagne. Okay, second, if you counted the one she’d drunk at the party. But that probably didn’t count, right?

Certainly not by her tally.

Heat flooded her body, and her nipples puckered into hard little beads, pressing against the thin fabric of the dress. Why the hell had she picked this outfit anyway? She probably looked like she was headed to church. And yet, Xander was still looking at her like she was the last piece of triple chocolate mousse cake.

Right. Cake.

She glanced down at the mountain of untouched desserts and plucked a chocolate petit four from the top of the pile. The tiny treat had a dark chocolate disc on top with a golden falcon embossed on it, and she briefly wondered if it was real gold. The ridiculous thought didn’t stop her from popping it into her mouth, though. She took a bite that was anything but dainty, chocolate coating her upper lip as she chewed.

Oh God. Her eyes rolled back in her head. The cake was amazing. It was rich and moist, and the chocolate blossomed on her tongue, revealing layers of fudgy goodness. It was almost as good as sex.

Almost.

She tried to subtly lick the chocolate mousse from her lips, but the way Xander’s heated gaze locked onto her mouth suggested her attempt at subtlety had failed miserably.

No surprise there. If the scene in the garden was any indication, Xander was far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for, appearing when she needed him most and whisking her away like a knight in tarnished armor.

Now there was an image she’d never thought to associate with the royal spare.

And yet…here they were. Making sex eyes at one another in the royal wine cellar.

“I’ve never wanted to be a bloody cake so badly in my life,” he said, the words a low rumble. “Ever since the night at the cottage, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your lips.”

Heat flared low in her belly, fanning out through her limbs at the mention of their kiss.

Unable to speak, she popped the last bite of cake into her mouth and chewed slowly.

What could she say? The kiss had been amazing, and every part of her ached to continue what they’d started, but how could they when the whole purpose of her visit was to get an exposé? She’d deluded herself into thinking there might be another way, but she knew in her gut the only way to impress Mr. Larson was to get an exclusive on the royal family.

Something Xander definitely wouldn’t appreciate when he saw her name in the byline.