“I’m not—”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” he demanded. His lips hovered inches from hers. He was ready to claim her now. “Lucy—”
“Yes.”
He pressed his lips to her. He’d planned to start slow. Hell, he’d mastered the gentle slide into passion. The first taste . . . the first touch . . . the swell of need . . . the loss of coherent thought . . .
He inhaled her.
His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. He pressed hard as his hand glided around her waist to her lower back. She drew closer. Her body aligned with his. The lacy fabric covering her chest touched his shirt. Their clothes rubbed against each other, the friction mirroring their locked lips.
She kissed him back as if she could find her precious magic in his lips—in his touch.
I’d bet my fortune the prince never kissed Cinderella like this.
Holding her close, he stepped forward, backing her up against the bare strip of wall beside the door. Her hips rocked against him. Her hands moved over his arms, her fingers pressing, kneading, and demanding more.
He dismissed oxygen. He chose this raw, hot need. And fuck, he wanted more. So damn much more.
She tore her lips away and left him sucking in the air.
“Lucy,” he growled. His lips touched her cheek. He ran his hand up her side and felt the swell of her breast. Then he drew back and ran his finger over her cheek. He touched her chin and silently asked her to look at him.
She ignored him. “I’m not one of your toys,” she said, her breath coming in sharp gasps. “I’m not an affair.”
He let out a low laugh. Her sharp, accusatory gaze met his.
But hell, affairs? His relationships, his hook-ups and one-night stands paled in comparison to a single Lucy Linden kiss. The word affairs suggested a forbidden act. But he couldn’t recall craving those women. He didn’t need them. And he’d never gone out of his way to leave a gift on their doorstep every morning for a week.
“I know, Lucy,” he said. “I know.”
“No, Jared. I don’t think you do.” She shook her head as she reached for the door. Her fingers struggled to turn the knob. “Or we wouldn’t be here. Like this.”
That’s exactly why we’re here. Because I can’t walk away from wanting you.
“Show me who you are,” he said simply.
Lucy’s lips parted. But she wasn’t inviting a kiss. Not this time. He waited for her to tell him off.
“I can’t,” she said softly.
&nbs
p; Then she slipped from his arms and escaped into the hall.
And he let her go. A weight settled in the pit of his stomach. He balled his hand and pressed his fist against the storage room wall. He’d found a woman he wanted beyond a date, a night, or a stolen kiss.
But one barrier after another stood in his path. First, Finn’s sister should be off-limits. Second, she was hell-bent on dating someone else. And third, after her ex’s royal fuck-up, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore.
“You’re mine, Lucy. I’m going to jump over every damn obstacle to fix whatever that jerk did to leave you so damn lost.”
Chapter 7
Lucy slipped her fingers into the long, white glove. She drew the fabric to her elbow and studied her appearance in the vanity mirror.
Freshly laundered ball gown? Check.
French twist? Check.