Page 27 of Stolen Princess

I sigh. The last thing I want to fucking do is sleep on that floor. I’ve slept in worse places. Don’t get me wrong. But it’s not as though I’m anxious to return to that point in my life.

She’s staring at the bed, chewing hard on her lip like she’s going to swallow the thing. I love women. I love fucking them. When they suit my needs and bugger off right after without asking for more or getting clingy. I’ve never shared a bed with one. I never stayed a moment after the condom came off, and I’ve never fucked anyone with the lights on or without some sort of disguise.

I was in a strict all-boys school for orphans, and it was run by nuns who never let a young female into the building. I didn’t lose my virginity until I left Ireland, and by that point, I’d already killed my father—and one of the bullies from my orphanage—and stepped into my persona as Rhys Stephan.

And yes, I jerked off to thoughts of her last night. I’m more than aware of that—and the fantasy I had. She’s young and beautiful and smells fucking fantastic. With that, the thought of sharing a bed, of being next to her all night, is not high on my fun list. It actually sounds like a fresh form of hell.

But I’ll take it over the floor.

She’s not losing her virginity in a place like this, and it won’t be to a bloke like me. I may be a monster with morals that tend to run black more than gray, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a line or a limit. The only thing I steal without consent is jewels and the occasional soul.

She’s the sort of girl who should get princes. Nice guys. Men who won’t use her and disregard her. That isn’t me.

“Princess, I plan to sleep tonight, not touch you. I think we can manage sharing the bed.”

She grows frantic, her hands waving wildly in the air. “I don’t trust you. You said I shouldn’t trust you. That you lied and⁠—”

I turn to her and grab her shoulders to stop her tantrum. “That doesn’t mean I assault unwilling and unwanting women either. Because that I don’t do. Ever. Not to mention, you’re far from my type, princess. You made this deal with me, not the other way around. I would have happily already been on my way. But if you’re that nervous about sharing a bed and want to⁠—”

“Stop! I’m not going back!”

She’s about ready to rip her hair out, and I’m at my end with sore feet, lack of food, and proper hydration.

I jostle her shoulders before I release her. “Then relax about the bed.”

I toss my knapsack down, then take her bag off her shoulder. With my eyes on hers, I unzip the front pocket where she put my weapons and slip them out, placing them on the bed before us.

“Knife or gun?” I ask her.

“What?”

“I’m not walking out of here unarmed. My preference is the gun, but I’ll deal with the knife.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You’re giving me the option?”

Yes, because I’m not taking these weapons and leaving her here alone in this town. Not to mention all my other reasons that I’m stuck with her for the foreseeable future.

“Gun.”

“Good girl. Let’s get something to eat and, if we can, do a bit of shopping. I could use some extra clothes and things.”

Then we’ll figure out the one-bed situation.

9

GENEVIEVE

“Your name isn’t Kevin Sullivan,” I say as we go back outside. He’s searching left and right, but for what, I have no clue. As for me, well, yeah. The one-bed thing is tripping me up. Being in this village and out of the cottage is messing me up. All that aside, I’m kind of riding an adventure high.

“Your point is?”

Then a laugh hits me. “It’s likely not Rhys Stephan either.”

He slowly shifts back to me, venom lurking in the depths of his green eyes. He’s trying to be the big, bad wolf, and maybe he is. I saw the wanted poster. The reward for him is substantial, and I can’t imagine you get to that point by only stealing jewels.

He doesn’t trust me, and the feeling is mutual.

I don’t want to share a room with him. That part sucks, and I understand I don’t have a choice. He’s right. I have no ID and no credit card, and I’m pretty much at his mercy even when I pretend I’m the boss.