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CHAPTER 24

LIZZY

FAKE SURPRISES ARE NO FUN.

I knew Declan had been about to tell me the truth. And it wasn’t that I didn’t want him to tell me the truth—honestly, that was my whole mission. That, and getting him home. The problem was, I wanted to steal just a couple more minutes of being Lizzy, the PR consultant. Because as the PR consultant, my responsibilities were neatly contained within the limited scope of the job I was pretending to do. I wasn’t responsible for a kingdom or the sanctity of the throne. More importantly—or really, more selfishly—I knew there was a chance Declan would hate me when I revealed my deception.

I didn’t think about any of that as his hands skimmed over my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. My own breathing, my own moans, surprised me. I wasn’t even sure if they were actually mine or if they belonged to Lizzy, the PR consultant. Because I’d been playing a role. And there was something gratifying and sexy about maintaining it—getting to be a whole other woman. A whole other kind of woman in Declan’s arms.

Lizzy the operative intimidated men. She was one of them—strong, capable, maybe even a little masculine. She wasn’t this wanton, sexy girl in a hockey player’s bed. Okay, well, technically it was my bed, but you get the point. So who could blame me for wanting just a few more minutes to be that girl?

And Declan?

He was everything I could never have dreamed he would be when I was nine years old. He was caring, he was gentle, but there was a fire inside him that stoked my own. And as our mouths and bodies clashed together in a manic, tension-filled push and pull, I felt something shift. Not just between the two of us, but cosmically. It was as if, with every thrust, every grasp of his hands, every move of his hips, Declan was realigning reality.

For me, at least.

I’d begun the encounter wanting to dominate, but once my guard had slipped, thanks to Declan’s persistent thumb rubbing a firm circle against my clit and making me lose my patience and some of my self control, I let him flip me onto my back. And then, almost infuriatingly, he backed off. He was straddling me, but then he rolled to one side and sat up on his elbow, smiling down at me.

“Why are you stopping?” I panted. I’d been very close to reaching that point where my brain stopped its constant anxious churn. I needed him to keep going.

“I wanted to look at you for a second.” His eyes scraped across my skin, taking in my breasts, my heaving chest, my quivering stomach, and everything below. I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, because I was looking at him too.

“Like what you see?” I asked him, though it was obvious from the way his engorged cock throbbed against my hip that he did.

He let out a low growl, and then he was rolling onto me again, taking my earlobe between his teeth and biting gently. A thrill shot from there straight to my core, and my hand wrapped itself around his cock.

“I think it’s time to see what you can do with your stick.”

He pulled back. “Was that a hockey joke?”

I rolled my head back and forth against the pillow. “I’m deadly serious.”

He grinned, and his eyes hooded as I stroked him, hard. “Hang on, I have a condom,” he moaned, rolling off me again to search for his wallet. When he finally came back, packet in hand, I felt like I might explode.

“Let me.” I snatched the packet from his hand and rolled the condom down his length. “Now go.”

“So demanding,” he chided, but he didn’t waste any time lining himself up. I grasped his back with my hands, trying to pull him into me, but Declan controlled the motion, sliding into my wetness slowly. Slowly enough to force me to arch upward to get what I needed. Contact. Friction. Fullness. I wanted it all.

Just as he was nearly inside all the way, he pulled back, and the whine that escaped me surprised even me.

“So impatient,” he whispered, finally pressing all the way in. I felt my eyes roll back in my head, and the breath leave me—it was perfect. It was everything. And finally, finally, my brain quieted and I was only sensation.

He pumped slowly, and I was powerless beneath him, enjoying every second more than the last. Every muscle inside my body felt like it was gripping as tightly as it possibly could, and just as I struggled for control, my brain introduced a thought that sent me right over the edge: You’re fucking the prince…

And as we ascended to the very precipice of some mountain I hadn’t even known existed, I wanted—more than anything—for this to be real. But as I lay in his arms afterward, both of us sticky with sweat and satisfaction, I knew a conversation loomed ahead that would change everything.

“I’m gonna have to get an Alaskan king-size bed, I guess,” Declan said.

“Oh, you think that was the bed?”

Declan grinned at me, those blue eyes dancing. I couldn’t help but lift my hand to rub it along the scruff on his jaw, which was every bit as soft as I’d imagined.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, mischief thick in his voice, making it deep and throaty. “We’ll have to do it again somewhere else. Maybe the kitchen counter?”

God, I wanted that. But I needed to talk to him.

“Maybe we should talk instead?” My voice was uncertain, because everything in my body was uncertain at that moment—a sensation I didn’t like and was not accustomed to.

“Yeah.” Declan did not look like talking was his first choice either, but I saw the same resignation in his face that I felt. There were things to discuss. “I bet you’re wondering why my truck blew up today.”

I smiled at him. I wondered if I knew more than he did about why his truck had blown up, but I didn’t say that.

“Yeah,” I said, hoping he would continue.

“Well, I probably should’ve been honest with you before we… did… this.” Declan waved his hand between us, as if the incredible sex we’d just had was a physical presence in the room. Honestly, it almost was.

“That’s okay. Just tell me now.”

“Well, there’s some stuff about me that you don’t know. Stuff about my past.”

Any other girl might have told him that we all had skeletons in our closets and not to worry about it. But I knew what he was about to say wasn’t just a skeleton in his closet—it was much deeper than that. It had to do with his very identity, and I needed him to tell me.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m actually a prince?” Declan looked sheepish now, as if this was the most far-fetched thing he could possibly say.

I took my cues from him, but second-guessed myself the moment I faked surprise. At what point was I supposed to come clean? The broad strokes were outlined in my mission, but the details, the subtleties of maintaining a trusting relationship with this man while confessing that I’d been lying to him—that hadn’t been made clear.

“A prince,” I said slowly, working to keep my expression blank. “A prince of what kingdom?”

“It’s a tiny island nation that most people in the US haven’t heard of. It’s called Murdan,” he said, watching my reaction.

I said nothing, my brain working furiously to decide how to handle this. When did I tell him who I was?

He sat up, something colder settling across his face. “Lizzy? Why don’t you look surprised?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. It was the most honest thing I’d said to him since we’d met.

“This is not exactly the reaction I was expecting. Is it that you think I’m crazy? Do you not believe me?”

I sat up and turned to face him, pulling the sheets up against my naked body, doing my best to prepare myself for whatever was coming next. “Declan, I haven’t been altogether honest with you, either. The reason I’m not surprised is because I already knew who you were.”

“That’s impossible.”

I tilted my head, not liking the hurt I saw on his face as he began to grasp the reality of my lie. There was nothing to do at this point except reveal everything.

“I know, for instance, that you are second in line to the Murdan throne. I know that your older brother, Lambert, has been struggling and may not be the best fit to take over for your father, Erik. I also know—and you may not—that your father is unwell. And while this is a closely guarded secret, anti-monarchist rebels have found out, and they see it as an opportunity.”

Declan’s face grew more and more stern with every word I spoke. My heart twisted inside my chest until I could barely breathe.

“And how exactly do you know all of this?” Declan physically moved away from me, across the massive mattress, until he was standing, pulling his clothes off the floor and shoving his feet into his shorts. “It’s a little convenient, isn’t it, that since I’ve met you, there have been guys coming for me? My truck blowing up? Lizzy, are you part of the anti-monarchist rebel group trying to overthrow my father?”

I might have smiled. I didn’t mean to, but it was so absurd. I’d given my entire life to the protection of the crown. The idea that I would do anything to harm it… “No, Declan. Absolutely not.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any way for you to prove it, though, is there?” He pulled his shirt on over his head.

“There is, actually.” Abandoning any modesty I’d felt before, I dropped the sheet, rose from the bed, and strode across the room, opening the top dresser drawer and removing a long case. Inside were my palace ID badge and my Commendation of Valor.

I opened the box in front of Declan, holding it out to him like an offering, and stared at him as he took in the information before him.