Page 36 of That Prince is Mine
“It tastes fucking glorious.” He bent his head until she could feel his words caress her lips. “Emma.”
With a little whimper, she tugged his head down and crushed her mouth against his. Everything in her went slack at first contact like she’d exhaled a long-held breath. Pure relief. At last. Then mayhem erupted.
She must’ve literally exhaled, because her mouth had parted, inviting Michel in, and he accepted with a guttural groan. Their tongues slid and tangled frantically against each other as her hands resumed their exploration of his hard pecs, and his fingers, spread wide on her hips, dug into her skin and pulled her flush against him.
She pushed up onto her toes, desperate to get closer, and he growled his approval. Wanting to feel that sexy rumble against her breasts, she pressed up against him and wrapped her leg around his waist. She thought she heard someone cough in the distance, but she soon forgot about it, lost in the kiss. His palm slid down her thigh and gripped her ass under her minidress, tugging her even closer to him. They moaned in unison as her center met his hard length.
Michel suddenly went still. Growling her frustration, she thrust herself against him, and he moaned as though in pain.
“Emma.” He kissed her hard like he couldn’t help himself, then dropped softer kisses on the corners of her lips. “We need to slow down.”
“We do?” She tried to deepen the kiss, but he pressed his forehead against hers, thwarting her efforts. Now she wanted to kick him as much as she wanted to keep kissing him. Wow. She never knew she was so vicious. “But why?”
“Because,” he sighed, “I have to tell you something.”
This time, she froze. I have to tell you something is literally the scariest phrase in the world, because the something was usually something terrible. Like your parents saying, We lied to you about everything being okay. We’re getting a divorce. Emma absolutely hated the phrase I have to tell you something.
If Michel didn’t have his hands wrapped around her arms, she might have run off into the night. But instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the something with her heart clawing to escape through her throat.
Please don’t let it be something bad.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Emma went stiff and rigid in his arms—her eyes and teeth clenched tight—as though she was waiting for a ravenous lion to pounce on her.
“What’s wrong?” Michel leaned back to get a better look at her expression, but it was hard to see in the shadows. He cupped her cheek and lifted her face toward him. “What’s happening right now?”
“Just tell me what it is,” she gritted out. “I don’t like being hit with surprises. Let’s get it over with.”
Michel gulped. That didn’t bode well for when he broke the news that he was the crown prince of Rouleme. He pushed the thought away even as dread settled in his stomach like a leaden anchor. He would worry about that when—if—that time came. It would be hard enough to explain to her why they weren’t alone right now.
“I have a… bodyguard,” he said in a strained voice.
“What?” Her face went blank for a moment, then she burst out laughing with obvious relief. “That’s strange and unexpected but not bad. Oh, thank goodness the something isn’t a bad thing.”
“The something?” His eyebrows pulled together as he tried to understand what she was saying.
“You said you had something to tell me, and that something is usually bad news.” She carefully wiped the corners of her eyes with a knuckle. “But wow. You have a bodyguard? Why? Are you a celebrity in your country or something?”
“Or something,” he said in an attempt at levity.
“As long as that something isn’t bad.” Her expression grew guarded again, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“No, no. I assure you it’s nothing bad.” At least, he hoped she wouldn’t think it was bad. His real concern was that she might like the idea of him being a prince too much—more than she liked the man underneath the crown. Even though he couldn’t tell her his real identity yet, he wanted to be as honest with her as possible. “It’s a simple precautionary measure to reassure my father that I’ll be safe. I come from an… influential family, and he’s rather overprotective.”
“Um, okay.” Emma nodded. “So where’s your bodyguard right now?”
“She has actually been with us the entire evening,” he said with a small cringe. He’d completely forgotten about Sophie—kissing Emma left little room for any coherent thought—until he heard her cough insistently from a few meters away. “That’s why I had to stop kissing you.”
“What?” Emma pushed herself off the wall so fast that she nearly butted his head with hers. “Where?”
“Do you… want to meet her?” Michel wasn’t sure what Emma needed to become comfortable with the idea. He could only hope that he hadn’t scared her off.
“Meet her?” Her head swiveled left and right down the alleyway, but Sophie had slipped into an alcove. “I can’t meet her. She just saw us… We were… Oh God. I can’t look her in the face right now.”
“Certainly. Not a problem at all,” he agreed quickly. “I’ll introduce you two next time.”
This time, he didn’t wonder about whether there would be a next time. After a kiss like that, it would be impossible for there not to be a next time. But he swallowed thickly when Emma didn’t answer right away.
