The Princess Finds Her Match Read online

  “So fucking sexy.” His voice was decadent as he caressed the garters on her thighs down to her stocking-clad legs. Lexie noted absently that she still had her shoes on. A hand came to her crotch and ripped her panty off.

  Lexie gasped in delicious shock.

  “You wanted me to find out how wet you are, rojita?” She could barely nod at the wanting in his eyes reflected in the mirror. “Then watch.”

  Hypnotized, Lexie’s gaze fixed itself on the mirror and at the area between her legs. Nic’s left hand opened her up. “So fucking beautiful,” he uttered as he slid a finger inside her. “So wet and slick and hot.” He worked a second finger in, and Lexie moaned as he did his magic. “Open your eyes, Lexie,” he ordered when the pleasure was becoming too much and she had dropped her head back against his chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Her breathing ragged. “I want you to watch yourself as I make you come.”

  “Damnfuckshit,” she keened as Nic concentrated on that sweet spot in the V of her legs. His other hand went back to her nipple, lightly scratching it with the tip of his fingernail. It was too much. Her arm snaked around Nic’s nape, clutching it tight. She bit her knuckle to prevent from crying out as her orgasm hit her with such force, her body growing rigid with pain and pleasure as she kept her eyes locked on Nic’s.

  Sated and limp, Nic withdrew his fingers from her and sucked them slowly. “You taste so fucking good.”

  Just like that, Lexie was aroused again. “Nic, you haven’t−“

  “It’s okay, Lexie−“

  But he clearly wasn’t, judging by the erection poking her butt. Lexie brought her legs down from the table, half-stood, and with one swift move, impaled herself on him. She was so wet that she was able to take all of him with just a bit of resistance.

  He groaned. “Lexie, I don’t have a con–“ but whatever he was about to say was lost as Lexie grabbed the table and worked herself on him feverishly. “Fuck!”

  “Slow down, rojita, you’re going to hurt yourself−“ he warned, and Lexie’s heart slammed into her chest. In the middle of mindless sex, he was still trying to take care of her when all she ever wanted was to always take from him. Lexie felt stupidly like crying but she tamped down on it. She had to take care of him first.

  The intense pleasure on Nic’s face as she rode him obliterated every other thought as she sought to give him the same blinding orgasm he gave her. Lexie watched their reflection, her breasts bouncing ferociously as she pumped him, loving the way he filled every inch of her.

  “Lexie,” Nic was sounding frantic, his neck muscles corded. He dug into her waist so hard she was sure he was going to leave bruises. “You have to get off me now or−“

  But Lexie only heard “get off” and doubled her efforts. In horror, she realized her vigorous actions were quickly cresting her to another peak. Not yet. Not until Nic. His head was thrown back, his mouth half-open, the muscles of his well-defined arms bunched tightly. Despite her best intentions, Lexie lost it. Her inner muscles twitched and clamped around him and her vision blurred. Vaguely she heard Nic muffle a deep groan, his fingers digging deep in her thighs, and then she felt something wet and warm gush deep inside her.

  “Fuck!” Nic cursed so violently that she flinched. She dropped her head and rested it on his chest where she could hear his madly beating heart. She knew it echoed the wild throbbing of her pulse. His arms came around her waist, squeezing her tighter. Lexie suddenly felt frightened, for she had this overpowering desire to stay in his arms forever.

  Gradually, the sounds outside the dressing room filtered through their post-lovemaking haze. She wrenched herself away from him and fumbled for her underwear clumsily, eager to put her clothes back on, and with it her sanity, for she had done the thing she was not supposed to do. She had fallen in love with Nic.

  The shock of this newfound realization hadn’t been allowed to cool yet when his next words did. “Lexie, I didn’t use a condom.”

  Her dress slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

  Chapter Eight

  I mustn’t lose it. I mustn’t lose it. It had been two days ago since the disastrous dressing room incident but she still wanted to scream, pull her hair out of her chignon, and stomp her sensible pumps on the floor. Get a grip.

  “Is something the matter, Lexie?” The deep, cultured tones of the Duke of Blackmoore penetrated the obsessive thoughts that were running through her mind. He paused from cutting his filet mignon to glance askance at her.

  They didn’t use any protection. If only it was the sex. Lexie quite forgot to protect her heart, too. Oh, God.

  Julian had rung her a few hours before and asked her to have dinner with him. The last thing Lexie wanted was to go out tonight with the Duke, but she was so surprised to learn he was also in L.A. that she had agreed before she had thought about it. She wondered why he had wanted to see her and hoped he wasn’t going to bring up something she didn’t feel ready to discuss yet.

  She took a sip of water and gazed at her surroundings for the first time since she walked in with Julian by her side. It was a discreet, three Michelin star restaurant frequented by Hollywood A-listers, but even with the famous, blasé clientele, they were attracting a fair amount of attention. She was the current It princess in love with the handsome, sexy polo player. What was she doing dining with the Delicious Duke?

  “You’ve hardly touched your food. I should call the chef−“

  “No! Everything is perfect, Julian,” she rushed to say, afraid he might indeed call the chef and attract more attention than was warranted. All she needed was another front-page photo of her and Julian splashed on the covers. Heaven knows how they would spin it.

  The press! They would have a field day if she had indeed gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Her gut tightened at the thought of the disappointment and shame she would bring Stefan. She bit determinedly into her perfectly poached sea bass and forced it down her throat.

  Julian’s eyebrow rose imperiously. “We can order another dish if it is not to your liking.”

  “It’s fine, Julian. I just ate quite a heavy lunch.” Of toast and tea. She couldn’t very well tell Julian her appetite had deserted her since she last saw Nic. She felt quite disgusted with herself, pining for a man she hadn’t seen or heard from since the disastrous after-photo shoot sex. She looked straight into the Duke’s green eyes and sighed that it was totally wasted on her. Why couldn’t life be more simple? Her heart less foolish?

  “I would have seen you as soon as I got here, but I got tied up with some business matters with the L.A. office.”

  Not only titled and gorgeous, Julian was also a successful venture capitalist and any woman’s dream catch. Lexie stilled, trying to catch a tiny beep. Nope. Not even a tiny ba-dump in her heart. Totally wasted. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  Julian frowned. “Some industrial spying inside the company. But I’ve got my men working on it. We’ll catch the culprit. It’s only a matter of time.” He took a sip of his wine, appearing to mull some things over. “How is it going with Fernandez?”

  His tone was casual, at odds with his assessing gaze.

  “Haven’t you seen the papers? Apparently we’re madly in love with each other.” Lexie tried to sound blithe, but even to her ears, her voice sounded brittle.

  “You weren’t sticking to the itinerary and you haven’t seen each other in two days.“

  “Don’t look at me. It was his idea−” she paused abruptly and leveled Julian a suspicious gaze. “You’ve had your men spying on me!” Lexie felt the rush of mortification on her cheeks. Surely Julian would know how Nic stayed the night in Blair’s mansion. ”Oh, don’t tell me. Stefan put you up to it.”

  He didn’t deny it. “He’s your brother. Naturally, he was worried. He was concerned Fernandez,” he paused, “might take advantage of you.”

  “He should have thought of that before he threw me in the company of that−that polo player.” Too late. She sounded as if Nic had indeed taken advant
age of her.

  Julian fixed her a deadly serious stare. “Just say the word, Lexie, and I’ll take care of him.”

  Lexie shivered at the cold way Julian said those words. He might be her brother’s best friend, but Lexie suspected there were things she didn’t quite know about Julian.

  “Julian, there is something I need to discuss with you.” She licked lips that had gone dry.

  Julian just stared at her, waiting for her to continue. All pretense of eating had gone.

  “About the betrothal.”

  “I’m surprised after all these years you’ve only just brought it up now. Has this something to do with Fernandez?” His tone was casual. His beautiful face was unreadable, but he was too perceptive.

  “It’s got nothing to do with Nic,” Lexie protested, but deep down she knew it was a lie, and she was sure Julian did, too. Even if the thing with Nic didn’t work out as she suspected it would, she refused to be part of something that wasn’t right for her. And unfair for Julian.

  “I’m breaking it off, Julian. It’s not fair to us. This is the twenty-first century for God’s sake. I should have done it years ago.” Her throat worked convulsively. “After the thing with Peter happened, I was too afraid to compound my sins by breaking off the betrothal, to rain further disapproval on my head from my family. It wasn’t fair to tie you down to something our fathers agreed on without our consent. I knew you were a gentleman and would not dream of breaking it. But it is not fair,” she finished bleakly. Recalling some of the whispers she had heard from the staff, Julian was quite the ladies’ man. She had always wondered why he didn’t break off the betrothal. “Why didn’t you?”

  He gave her an enigmatic look. After several seconds, he said, “Perhaps I was just waiting for you to grow up.”

  “Wh−what?” she stammered.

  “Have your affair with Fernandez, Lexie. You have led a very sheltered life. After you have gotten him out of your system, come to me and we’ll take it from there.”

  Lexie had to take a moment to wrap her mind around what Julian had just said. He was giving her permission to conduct an affair with Nic? He wasn’t releasing her from their betrothal? Thankfully, he excused himself to answer his mobile phone that must have been vibrating insistently. Or maybe Lexie just didn’t hear it ring, her astonishment at the Duke’s pronouncement rendering her momentarily deaf. No chest beating and turning he-man and claiming his stake on her as his intended? She couldn’t imagine Julian ever wrinkling his bespoke suit to land a punch on a guy who was bothering her. The most she could imagine was him commanding his bodyguards to do the dirty work for him. Lexie frowned. How urbane, she thought, how civilized. She had a sudden vision of her married to Julian, being the perfect, poised, placid wife, and then one day because she couldn’t bear being perfect all the time, she would snap and throw a hissy fit and Julian would gape at her and wonder who the hell he had married.

  After a few minutes, he came back and reached for her hand across the table. Lexie was too surprised by the unexpected gesture to pull her hand away.

  “Julian, what are you doing?” she whispered, conscious of the other diners.

  With a devilish glint in his green eyes, he drawled. “I was hoping to get him out of your system sooner. Don’t look now, but Fernandez is just about to walk in the restaurant.”

  * * *

  “I’m with the Princess Alexandria,” Nic growled at the unfortunate maître d’ who had asked if him if he had any reservations. The poor man looked cowed. He was in no mood to be civil, especially after Blair sent him a link of a photo of Lexie and the Duke taken just a few minutes ago.

  He spotted them in the corner of the restaurant, Walkden’s blond head bent towards Lexie’s darker one. He made his way towards them. Several conversations stopped. The tinkle of cutlery and glasses died down as necks craned discreetly to follow his progress across the room.

  They were fucking holding hands. Across the table. Both heads looked up as his shadow fell and blocked the light from behind.

  Lexie pulled her hand away abruptly. She appeared flustered. Walkden was as always unflappably cool. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was expecting him.

  Walkden rose, all aristocratic, languid elegance. Nic wanted to smash his face in, duke or not. The caveman in him was never far behind with Lexie and other men around.

  “It’s so good you’re able to join us, Nic,” the Duke’s eyes were amused but calculating. With marked affability, he extended a hand. “Lexie told me she wasn’t sure what time your meeting would end.”

  “Well, it’s quite fortunate that it did end earlier than expected,” he said sarcastically. He shook the duke’s hand perfunctorily. He didn’t trust Walkden on the polo field or off it, especially around Lexie. ”Otherwise I would have missed this very cozy dinner with an old friend, hmm?”

  “Actually, we were just done.” Lexie stood jerkily, almost knocking over her water goblet in her haste.

  Nic cupped her elbow. “Perfect! Now we can have coffee a few blocks down the road. Pris recommended this new place.” The Duke didn’t protest, merely looking entertained at his eagerness. Arrogant prick! He started steering her across the restaurant, Walkden falling into step beside her. When they stepped out, the bright lights from several flash bulbs popping simultaneously blinded him temporarily. He pulled Lexie closer to him as they retreated behind the restaurant doors, bracing himself for the walk back to his parked car. Walkden’s curt voice halted him midstride.

  “Take my car, Nic. My driver can take you to where you want to go. “

  “Thanks, but I’ll take care of it, Walkden.” Damn if he was going to be told how to take care of Lexie.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Fernandez. It’s a mob out there.”

  Blue eyes stared into green ones in challenge. No one was backing away from the standoff.

  “It’s alright, Julian.” Lexie’s barely concealed anxiety penetrated the mist of rage he felt at the sound of the other man’s name on her lips. “My bodyguards are already on their way.” She gestured to two hulking men in suits shoving their way through the paps.

  Julian broke off first. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “I’m sure there will be no need,” Nic said coldly.

  The Duke planted a brief kiss on Lexie’s cheek. He shot Nic one final, hard glance over the top of her head before walking away.

  * * *

  “We need to talk.”

  Yeah, right. A thirty minute silent drive all the way to the front door of the mansion and he chooses to speak, now, after he let her simmer in quiet resentment in the car. Men and their inability to multitask, she scoffed mentally.

  Lexie shoved the key into the front door viciously. It was juvenile but felt really necessary. She made her way to the mammoth state-of-the-art kitchen on the right wing of the mansion. Mrs. Rosario was off to visit her grandchild. Blair was out clubbing. She kicked off her shoes and felt the cold marble on her feet as she made her way to one of the hanging cabinets, searching for a glass. A headache was looming like dark rain clouds, and she needed to nip it in the bud with ibuprofen before it became a full-blown migraine.

  She could see him from her peripheral vision, a hip resting on the island counter, his arms folded across his chest tracking her every movement. A day or two ago, a “talk” would have been welcome. Who was she kidding? She was so desperate to hear from him that she never let her mobile phone out of sight in case he called. She turned down Blair’s invitations to shopping sprees in case she noticed how distracted she was and tried to ferret out what was bothering her. This morning, her denial painfully morphed into acceptance. Just like any other guy, Nic had freaked out about the possible consequence of unprotected sex with a girl he was just banging for fun and was running scared. He was just protecting his deal with Stefan and had come barging in during dinner to protect his turf and make sure he got Pygmalion. She dumped the contents of her bag on the kitchen counter and popped a pill from i
ts blister pack. Midway to her mouth, she stopped dead cold and dropped the pill back to the counter.

  “What’s wrong?” He hadn’t moved, but the concern in his voice reached her.

  She tucked a strand of hair that had detached from her chignon behind an ear. “It’s nothing. Just a headache.”

  “Take your meds then.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not until I know −“

  “Know what?”

  Did she really have to spell it out? Apparently she had to by the clueless, frowning look on his face. “Not until I know whether I’m pregnant or not,” she whispered, but the words carried in the deep quiet of the house.

  He appeared stunned for a moment. “Jesus,” he uttered savagely, striding to where she was hunched miserably in a corner of two apposing kitchen counters. “Look at me, Lexie.”

  She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. “It’s a distant possibility with that one time but if you are, you have to tell me. Alright?”

  A tic was beating madly at his jaw, and Lexie reached out to touch it. He flinched and backed off. She pulled her hand back in shame. Now he couldn’t even bear her touch?

  “Shite!” he cursed, grasping her hands, refusing to let go when she would have pulled away. He touched his forehead to hers, his breath teasing her nostrils. “Touching you is the easy part. It’s the letting go I can’t bear. It gets harder every time.”

  “You don’t ever have to let me go, Nic. I’m yours.” Shameless and desperate, but there it was. All her cards on the table. She leaned back, tilted her head up, and looked him in the eye as she pulled the pin on her emotional grenade. “It’s not like I even had a choice,” she accused with some degree of bafflement, as if the truth had just dawned on her. He detached himself from her and walked a few paces away. She saw his expression change, become guarded. Before he had even opened his mouth, Lexie knew he was going to convince her otherwise.

  “You’re so young, Lexie. You are just confusing sexual chemistry with something else.” His tone was sure, patronizing, but he couldn’t meet her gaze.