Page 79 of Tabloid Princess

Possibly not.

His fingers stretched and then he lowered them to the keys, running them in a light dance across the ivory.

I watched in utter awe as he pulled a tune from his memory, both hands lightly caressing the keys and creating a heavenly sound.

He might not be able to cook. He could play the piano.

I’d starve and listen forever if I could.

My eyes focused on his face, memorising the concentration on his features, until his lips broke into a smile. “I can’t possibly play with you staring at me like this.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s hard not to.”

He smirked and I shook my head.

“I’m just wondering what else you can do that well.”

The music trailed off, his fingers still lightly tinkling the end notes despite the fact his face turned to mine; his expression one of deep hunger. I recognised it because I had it stirring in my own stomach.

I held a breath as he shifted around on the bench, his body angled towards mine. Lifting one finger, the same that had just played so skilfully, he brushed it across the opening of my blouse.

Heat surged through me, the skin on my throat and cheeks stinging with a hot blush.

“You are so very beautiful,” he murmured.

Oh God. His voice did something dangerously dark to my insides. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and purr like a cat.

I met his gaze.

His fingers travelled across my collarbone, from my shoulder to where the two delicate arcs met in the middle. Then watching me closely, he trailed it down until it reached the first button. He paused there, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Why did you learn to play the piano?” I tried to think of anything that would break the tension running between us. That magnetic force-field we seemed to create thrummed and buzzed.

He shifted closer, dropping his head so his lips could brush my neck. “I wanted to be a rock star.” He breathed against my skin and I held in a sharp gasp as desire shot painfully between my legs.

“The prince who wanted to be a rock star?”

He lifted his face a fraction, his gaze bright. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

“Terribly.” I bit on my bottom lip as his lips returned to my skin, trailing the same path his finger had just travelled.

Using two fingers he undid the top button of my blouse. His lips skimmed another inch lower.

Another button.

His right hand pushed at the light material, sliding it off my shoulder.

I was going to die. Of that I was utterly sure.

My need for self-preservation told me to run. The monster growled, telling me to stay still and take it. The high of his touch would be worth the pain.

He kissed across my exposed skin, along the edge of my black bra and I sat rock still, too scared to move in case the moment vanished. One of his hands slipped around my back, his fingers trailing down my spine, making me sit up straighter and higher, pushing my breasts out.

I was the puppet again.

The hand not on my spine, angling my body, undid another button. His mouth wandered almost carelessly to my exposed breast, pushing against the lace of my bra, his teeth just grazing ever so slightly through the material.

I jumped up from the stool, my legs wobbly.