Page 58 of Royal Trouble
The old Xander would have tossed back a shot—or five—and shown them exactly how much fun the bastard prince could be, but he’d grown tired of that game. All it brought was hangovers and headlines.
He drained his water bottle and tossed it in the bin. It was quiet in the kitchen, though he could just make out the raucous laughter from the library where a handful of guys were balls deep in game of poker. He’d considered joining them, but what was the point?
With a decisive flip of the switch, he killed the lights, blanketing the kitchen in darkness. The only remaining light—a bright amber glow—came from the window over the sink. Curious, he moved to the window and peered out.
Despite the late hour, the Lennox guest cottage was lit up like a beacon, and before he could think it through, his feet were moving.
Chapter Fourteen
A knock at the door ripped Everly from sleep. She bolted upright and glanced at the clock above the mantle. It was after two. She’d fallen asleep watching TV.
Shit. Had she missed a text from Xander? If he’d stumbled all the way out to the cottage in the middle of the night, it must be serious. She grabbed her phone and hit the unlock button, but there were no texts or missed calls.
So who was at the door?
Everly climbed to her feet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. If there was some drunk asshole banging on her door, noble or not, he was going to regret it. She eyed the couch and briefly considered going back to sleep, but no, the heir was on site, and the property was teeming with royal protection officers. If someone was knocking on her door at two in the morning, she needed to answer.
She shuffled her tired ass down the hall and yanked the door—which, apparently, she’d forgotten to lock—open. “I swear to Christ someone better be dying.”
“I should hope not, as it would be a rather tragic end to an otherwise brilliant party.” The sarcastic reply rolled off Xander’s lips like a shot of scotch. Smooth. Dark. Filled with smoke. “Hello, Evie.”
Xander’s broad shoulders filled the doorframe, and despite the fact that it was two in the morning and she’d expected him to be blitzed out of his mind, his eyes were clear and bright. He wore a collared shirt that was unbuttoned down to his sternum, revealing the defined muscles of his deeply tanned pecs and the smattering of golden hair she’d noticed before. She’d never been a fan of chest hair, but damn, it worked for him, and it took all her self-control not to reach out and touch him.
She cleared her throat. “Is there something you need?”
Shit. Why was her voice coming out all husky? It sounded like she smoked two packs a day.
“Not something,” he said, closing the distance between them and stroking his thumb across her cheek. He held her gaze. “Someone.”
His touch was gentle but sure, and her traitorous heart began to beat double-time, slamming against her rib cage as if she’d just received a shot of adrenaline. And, hell, maybe she had, because when had anyone ever needed her?
“I thought you were mad at me.” Why? For the love of God, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? The man was at her door, and he wanted—no, needed—her, and here she was dredging up the past again.
“I admit I was angry at first,” he said with a slow nod. “RGW caused me a great deal of pain, but you were right. It’s in the past. We were both different people then.” He stroked her cheek again, and she shuddered involuntarily. “I’m not proud of the person I was at Elmhurst, but I’d like to think I’ve become a better man in the years since. And from what I’ve seen, you’ve changed as well.”
She chewed her bottom lip. This was too easy. There had to be a catch. “So I’m forgiven? Just like that?”
No one forgave that easily. She sure as shit didn’t. Case in point, she had yet to follow through on coffee with Katherine. And she’d only called her father out of necessity, something she wouldn’t be repeating, though he’d made it clear he wouldn’t mind hearing from her again.
The right side of Xander’s mouth hooked up, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye when he spoke again. “Would you prefer I punish you, Evie?”
The prospect of Xander spanking her again sent a hot flush sweeping up the back of her neck.
“I’ll discipline you if I must, but I’d much rather pleasure you.” He lowered his mouth to hers, delivering a seductive, scorching kiss that had her melting into his arms. “All night, if that’s what it takes to prove that the past is the past.”
Yes, please.
The fact that he could forgive so easily—so completely—would’ve been a turn-on even if he didn’t already have a direct line to her sex. She was as powerless to resist the lure of his mouth as she was to resist the promise of his body.
She didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but damn if she wouldn’t grab it with both hands, because the truth was she needed Xander just as much as he needed her. He was the light to her dark. The chaos to her order. The Dean to her Sam.
Everly gripped the front of his shirt and sealed her lips to his as she pulled him inside. His lips were hot and wet, and he tasted like lager. His shirt came untucked, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Probably because her tongue was in his mouth.
“Evie,” he said, her name a tortured groan as they stumbled down the hall to the living room.
“No talking,” she panted, desire rippling across her skin. Words would just get in the way. Every time they tried to talk, things got complicated. But this? This they could do.