Page 50 of Royal Trouble

“Everything’s fine,” she lied, giving herself a mental high five for sounding convincing.

Xander gave her another slow perusal.

“Are you quite finished?”

Shit. Had there been enough indignation to mask the breathy quality of her voice?

“Not even close.” He stared at her mouth the way she imagined a dying man might look upon the pearly gates. He took a step forward. “Invite me in, Evie.”

“Stop right there,” she said, planting a hand on his chest, which turned out to be the wrong move because her towel came loose and dropped to the floor, leaving her boobs—and all her other bits—exposed to the prince and everyone behind him.

She squealed and bent down to grab the treacherous scrap of cotton at the same time Xander did. Their heads collided, and he issued a string of curses that would’ve made a different kind of woman blush. Everly glanced up to see his bodyguards rushing toward them, and in a panic, she did the only think she could think of.

She slammed the door in the prince’s face.

…

Xander picked up the towel and straightened. What the fuck had just happened? One minute they’d been flirting, the next she’d slammed the door in his face.

He couldn’t blame her, though. He wasn’t exactly modest—the whole world had seen his cock, no thanks to an unscrupulous website that hadn’t censored the Amsterdam nudes—but Everly wasn’t like him. She tended to shy away from the limelight, seeming to prefer her privacy. It was one of the qualities that drew him to her. Unlike so many in his social circle, she wasn’t trying to ride his coattails to fame or make a name for herself. And she certainly wouldn’t choose to flash her breasts to the world.

He hadn’t meant to look. He’d been reaching for the towel, but then their heads had knocked together and they’d been right there in front of his face.

“Everything okay, Sir?”

Xander turned to his bodyguards, the damp towel still clutched in his hands. Bollocks. The damn thing even smelled like Everly, that soothing combination of lavender and lemongrass. “Everything’s fine. Give us a moment.”

Seemingly satisfied, they backed off and resumed sweeping the street for signs of trouble. Xander turned back to the door and knocked.

“Go away!” came the muffled reply.

Christ. Was she naked on the other side of the door? His cock stirred at the prospect.

“I thought you might like your towel back?”

There was a quietthunkand eventually the door opened. Just a crack. Then Everly’s hand shot out, palm upturned as she wiggled her fingers impatiently.

Fighting a grin, he dropped the towel into her waiting hand.

She yanked it back as if afraid he might snatch the towel from her grasp. There was some shuffling behind the door, and when she appeared again, the towel was wrapped securely around her body, one hand clutched across her chest.

“You might as well come in,” she said, swinging the door wide and gesturing for him to enter with her free hand. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to get dressed.”

He kicked the door shut behind him and watched as she sauntered down the hall, her arse wiggling every step of the way. How was it possible he’d gone to school with this woman for years and not noticed her? He couldn’t imagine passing her by in a crowd now. Not when her very presence was a temptation he could scarcely resist.

Xander circled the living room, doing his best not to think about the fact that Everly was naked somewhere in the apartment, her perky breasts just out of reach. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was well and truly fucked. After weeks of verbal sparring and dancing around one another, the only thing he could think about was claiming the woman who ruled his thoughts and his cock. The small taste he’d had in the wine cellar wasn’t nearly enough. Not enough to sate his curiosity, not enough to slake his desire.

Not after their talk in the garden. Not when she’d actually listened to him without judgment, without censure, as if she actually cared. It was a rare gift, and he hadn’t taken it for granted.

He wanted to know her in a way he’d never known a woman, and it scared the shit out of him. Because even though he knew it was impossible, he wanted more than a single night with Everly. Hell, he wanted more than a week. But he knew how the world worked, so he’d take what he could get, and when she returned to New York he’d let her go.

Everly cleared her throat from the doorway, where she stood in a thin T-shirt and a pair of barely there shorts, as if flashing him her tits weren’t enough temptation for one day.

Christ, was she trying to kill him?

His throat went dry, and his cock thickened, pressing uncomfortably against his slim-fitting trousers.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”