Matched to a Prince. Kat Cantrell
She moaned and leaned into it, desperate to taste the divine, to plunge into him.
Euphoria rushed through her veins, deluging her senses with sharp, slick desire. Pushing eager fingers through his short hair, she held his head in place as the kiss exploded with incandescent energy.
Their bodies melded, aligning just right, just as always. Yes. Oh, yes, she’d missed him.
Missed how he never held back, missed his intoxicating presence and missed how his strength enabled hers.
His hand slipped beneath a spaghetti strap at her shoulder and he skimmed silky fingertips down her back. If he kept this up, her lingerie would be making an appearance after all, very shortly.
He pulled away before she’d even begun to sate herself on the thrill of his touch. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead on hers. “That didn’t quite do what I hoped.”
It had certainly done plenty for her. “What were you hoping for?”
“That it would allow me to eat in peace instead of thinking about whether you still taste the same. Now I’m pretty sure a repeat is all I’ll be thinking about.”
She hid a smile. “If dinner goes well, a repeat might be on the menu.”
His eyelids dropped to a sexy, slumberous half-mast. “I’ll keep that in mind. Shall we eat?”
“If you insist.” He might be able to eat. The flip-flopping in her stomach didn’t bode well for her.
There were still plenty of sparks between them. Not that she’d wondered. But that kiss had at least answered one lingering question—whether they could pick up where they’d left off.
The answer was a resounding yes.
As long as they could sort through the past. The scandal. The utter sense of betrayal he’d left her with.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to think about it. There weren’t any laws that said they had to immediately hash out how abandoned she’d felt.
Finn led her to a chair and helped her sit, then took his own seat. As the chef served a delicious first course of tomatoes drizzled with balsamic vinegar, Finn mentioned the queen’s bout with appendicitis and Juliet murmured appropriate well-wishes. She then shared that her second-youngest sister was expecting a baby and nodded at Finn’s hearty congratulations.
A very pleasant conversation all the way around. Thankfully, at least some of the social graces Elise had tirelessly drilled into Juliet’s head had held.
Except she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind, and watching him talk wasn’t helping. It had been a very long time since she’d been kissed. Since the scandal.
Finn hadn’t let any grass grow under his feet in the female companionship department, but she’d taken the ostrich approach. If she stuck her head in the sand long enough, all those feminine urges would dry up and go away.
She’d been pretty successful thus far. Yet in two seconds, he’d done a spectacular job of reminding her sheer will couldn’t stop the flood of longing for the tender affections of one very talented prince.
“Did you quit your job in Delamer?” Finn asked once the chef finished serving the main course of corvina sea bass and asparagus over quinoa.
“I did.”
The short phrase communicated none of the grief she’d experienced over resigning her position teaching English to bright young minds. She loved the children she taught and had hoped to find a way to continue teaching in America.
Then she remembered.
She hadn’t been matched with an American husband. If things worked out with Finn, she could go home, go back to her job, back to the sea. Back into his arms.
Was such a fairy tale actually possible?
With renewed interest, she swept her gaze over the man opposite her. “Are you still flying helicopters?”
“Of course. I’ll do that until the day I die. Or until they ground me. Whichever comes first.”
No shock. He’d always loved flying as much as he did the search and rescue part of his job. The source of contention wasn’t what he did but whom he did it for.
“Hmm,” she said noncommittally and forked up a bite of fish. “I wasn’t going to jump right into this, but I’m on uncertain ground here. Tell me what you hoped to gain from Elise’s match. Are you really looking for a wife?”
Finn set his wineglass down firmly and focused on her, the warmth in his expression all too easy to read. “I can’t keep being the Party Prince. The best I thought I could do was an arranged marriage, like my parents. Means to an end, and I’m okay with that. What about you?”
That focus unleashed a shiver she couldn’t quite control. “I was prepared to marry whomever Elise picked. I couldn’t stay in Delamer. Not with the way things fell apart between us. Marriage was a means to an end for me, as well.”
She’d like to stop there and just enjoy this date. But there were too many unanswered questions for that.
“What is this dinner all about? We aren’t having a first date like we would with the matches we’d envisioned for ourselves. This is something else. We have history we’re avoiding. Important history. History that has to be resolved.”
Finn’s gaze grew keen. “You want to throw down? Go for it.”
“No, I don’t.” She shook her head, though he was certainly the only man who could take whatever she dished out. “We’ve fought enough in our relationship. I want to work things out like adults. Can we?”
With a smile, Finn picked up her hand and rubbed a knuckle with his smooth thumb. “Let’s hold off on history with a capital H. Dinner is about me and you reconnecting. That’s the part of our history I prefer to remember.”
“Okay.”
She’d waited this long. What were a few more hours? The time would be well spent working through what she’d realized she’d done wrong a year ago. Instead of fighting so hard to convince Finn to talk to his father, she should have gone about this a whole different way.
If Finn was truly looking for a wife, what was stopping her from marrying him in order to bring about change from inside the palace gates? Princess Juliet would have far more power to influence the king away from mandatory military service than plain old Juliet Villere.
And then maybe she could finally be rid of the crushing guilt she felt over Bernard’s death.
* * *
Dinner forgotten, Finn nearly swallowed his tongue when Juliet pushed back her chair and waltzed to his side of the table wearing a sultry smile and sporting a very naughty glint in her eye. She extended a hand, which he took silently, and then he stood, allowing her to lead him up the path into a more heavily wooded section of the park.
“Interested in the native fauna and flora?” he asked when the silence stretched on.
“More interested in how well the flora conceals us.” She backed him up against a tree and stepped into his torso deliberately, rubbing her firm breasts against his chest.
Oh, so that’s what she had in mind. Obviously, she remembered how good it had been as well as he did. And apparently she had no problem rekindling that part of their relationship, impending matches to other people notwithstanding. Fantastic.
“That earlier kiss was good. Make this one better,” she commanded.
Instantly, he complied, yanking her into his arms and exploring her back flat-handed. Their mouths met, aligning perfectly, and heat arced between them.
Juliet.
Desire thundered through his body, soaking him with a storm of need. She was in his arms, overpowering his senses as if he’d jumped from his helicopter without a parachute.