Page 44 of My Dark Prince
“Please, you deserve much more crap for using goat-shaped prostate massagers on me.” I propped a shoulder on my seat, staring at him with a mixture of delight and confusion. We didn’t feel like us. And yet, nothing made me more comfortable than being near him. I sighed. “Chill out, by the way. I’mfine. I’m not going to disintegrate because you glanced away for five seconds. Keep your eyes on the road.”
“You don’t get it. I thought you died that night. Or worse.”
“There’s something worse than death?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice flat.
In an instant, the joy sucked out of the car. I tugged the lush cardigan Oliver gave me tighter – a Christmas gift from someone named Dallas, who was apparently my best friend – and stole glances at him from my periphery. He white-knuckled the steering wheel, the car still in park. My fingertips itched to smooth out the lines between his brows and take away whatever happened that had made him so serious. So somber. Problem was, I didn’t knowwhatthat was. Just another reminder of what I’d lost. Every memory that made me …me.
That’s not true.
I caught my gaze in the mirror.
You’re still the you that matters. You’re still sweet, and smart, and compassionate. You don’t need your memories to be the same girl that loved Oliver von Bismarck something fierce.
Damn straight.
In the end, my heart mattered more than my mind.
“We’re in our thirties, you said?” I patted my face, making a show of gazing in the mirror with fake awe. “This has to be Botox. Damn, I’m aging well. When do you think my next appointment is?”
He loosened his grip on the steering wheel and revved up the engine, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I’ve never taken care of anyone without a memory before.”
“I have memories. I just blanked out on the last decade or so.” I pouted, staring at the road ahead. We lived in a beautiful place – wild with evergreen trees, golf courses, rivers, and lakes. “In fact, I just remembered something recent a moment ago.”
“Oh?” Ollie quirked an eyebrow. “Do share.”
“I remembering sewing a pair of see-through thongs shortly before I bumped my head.”
“You did.” He grinned. “For the film you were working on.”
“Why the past tense?” I frowned. “I’m going back as soon as I can.”
Ollie’s throat bobbed with a swallow. “Cuddlebug, they … found a replacement.”
“What?” I almost shot out of my seat. “They can’t do this to me. I need to go back. It’ll help me remember.”
“You need torest.” He patted my thigh, and a jolt of desire zipped through me. “And ask plenty of questions.”
“Okay. What’s my favorite sex position?” I challenged.
“Reverse cowgirl while I operate heavy machinery.”
That made me laugh. Now,thiswas more like the Ollie I knew. Passionate. Goofy.Real.
“Have we ever …”
“Ever …?”
“Sixty-nined?”
He did a double take. “Come again?”
“Cum again or come again? Never mind. I was just wondering what happens if I accidentally bite your dick when I come.” I shook my head, amused by his automatic wince. “Moving on. Where’s the craziest place we’ve ever had sex?”
“Hmm.” He stroked his chin, giving it some thought. By the ghost of the smile tugging at his lips, I gathered there were plenty of places to choose from. “The Versailles Palace, probably.”
I choked on another sip of my water. “Oh my god, were we drunk?”
