The Princess Finds Her Match Read online

  “You had that very same look on your face before you started dancing on stage.” His head was dipped, his hands in his pockets. A small breeze played momentarily with his dark hair. The shadows between the street lights hid his expression. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Shite, it was that good.” His face came up and he was grinning boyishly, his lips tilting up at the corners and his eyes crinkling adorably. He was a lethal combination of boy-next-door good looks and just-wait-till-the-door-is-closed-so-I-can-have-my-wicked-way-with-you. Lexie was in imminent danger of melting into a gooey puddle at his feet. His voice dropped. “Believe me, it wasn’t only a heart attack you almost gave me. Any better and I would have embarrassed myself in front of your fans.”

  Her face must turned have turned as red as her wig, judging by the warmth she could feel on her cheeks. To deflect the conversation to safer waters, she asked, “How about my singing?”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “That was by far the most God-awful singing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

  Lexie stopped dead in her tracks so that Nic was forced to do the same. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God,” she groaned. “Oh my God.”

  “Um, Red?” She could hear the hesitation in his voice, wondering if he had gone too far. “With some practice and may be singing lessons you could probably improve…” he finished lamely, but clearly his heart wasn’t in it.

  Lexie couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her shoulders started shaking violently.

  “Lexie?” Nic said in alarm.

  A burst of giggles escaped from behind her hands. At the uncomprehending look on Nic’s face, she started laughing hysterically, clutching her tummy. He was a sharp one. In a few seconds, he knew he had been had and he started laughing, too. Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous and sexy, he also had a sense of humor. Lexie was in serious danger, the kind that had alarm bells ringing wildly in her mind and heart.

  “Did you just snort?” he asked disbelievingly a few seconds later.

  Lexie straightened her spine and said in her most imperious manner. “Excuse me? I do not snort. Ever.”

  He looked at her again, with a little smile playing on his lips, a smile that seemed…fond. Yes, fond. As if he had smiled at her this way hundreds of times before, in exasperation, in amusement, in disbelief. But always with fondness. But his next words reminded her that they had no shared history. “Could have fooled me, princess.”

  “What did you just call me?” Lexie’s tone was sharp. Please don’t break the spell yet. Had he known all along?

  Nic stilled at her tone. “I said ‘princess,’” he repeated, wary. “What’s the matter?”

  He couldn’t know. She was in disguise. The press hadn’t paid any attention to her in years. In her quest to be the most proper, staid, and well-behaved royal that ever lived, Lexie had managed to stay off the press’ radar since the incident. She had to shake off this paranoia. She was fearless.

  Shaking her head, she took Nic’s hand again. “Nothing.”

  He gave her a long look. “Okay.” He was letting her off the hook. For now. It was as if she had heard his thoughts.

  * * *

  Where are you from? Why are you wearing an atrocious wig? Have you ever felt this way about someone before? He thought he had, once, but Nic was an optimist and he was not letting one bad experience color his future. His parents had fallen in love at first sight and married within months of meeting each other. Nic wasn’t hung up on the idea, but it was possible. It could happen. He scanned her fingers. No ring in sight but still, it didn’t really mean anything. Better keep his mouth shut for the moment. He was likely to scare the shit out of her on their first meeting if he bombarded her with questions. The championship was two days away though and he had to leave straight away for Los Angeles for a photo shoot and the Polo Expo. He would have to do some fast convincing to make her recognize there was something worth exploring between them.

  “Where did you learn to dance like that?” Nic was burning to ask her a hundred questions but settled for an innocuous one.

  “Like what?”

  They were still walking aimlessly, past kitschy souvenir stores, sex toy shops, and run-down apartments. She stopped at one of the souvenir stores, surveying the display window.

  “You knew how to move,” he shrugged as if that was self−explanatory.

  “Years of ballet and jazz,” she tossed out, grasping the door handle. Nic saw her jump back in surprise.

  “What is it?” Nic asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

  “I got a shock from the door handle,” she said, laughing self-consciously.

  “Happens to me all the time,” Nic grimaced in sympathy. “It’s the dry desert air. Give me your hand.”

  Lexie did as told and Nic made a show of inspecting it. He swore he felt a different jolt when their skin touched. Then he kissed each finger. “All better?”

  She nodded. “But now I’m scared of touching that door handle.”

  “Leave it to me.” He approached the door, and he saw Lexie observing what he was going to do. He pulled out the bottom end of the front of his shirt, flashing her inadvertently with a view of his lower abdomen. He wrapped it on the door handle and tugged it open.

  Lexie grinned in approval. “Very innovative.”

  He winked and Lexie stepped past him inside the store.

  “Looking for anything in particular?” A thin Asian man was working behind the cashier. He was the only one inside the shop and wasn’t particularly welcoming at half-past eleven in the evening.

  “Good evening. I’m looking for a magnet, please.” Nic noted how polite and old-fashioned she sounded in contrast to the seductive minx she had been earlier at the bar. He mulled over the disparity and decided he rather liked it. Proper in public but sexy as hell in closed quarters.

  The man gestured to a display on the side, looking less stern. He was visibly charmed by her quaint manners.

  As with all females, Lexie had instantly become absorbed in comparing the merits of a roulette wheel magnet to a poker chip magnet. She wanted the poker chip magnet, but it didn’t say Las Vegas in the font she wanted. Nic told her he would buy both for her to put an end to her dilemma, at which she prissily told him it wasn’t the point. Nic rolled his eyes and she wrinkled her nose at him. God, even with the atrocious wig, she was beautiful. Nic left her to debate the merits of each item and wandered to another display cabinet. He called over the salesperson discreetly and pointed to an object that caught his interest.

  Back outside, Lexie had shown him what she had decided to purchase. He chuckled. It was a magnet of a scantily clad Las Vegas showgirl complete with a huge feather headdress. “Very classy,” he quipped dryly.

  “At least it had the font that I liked,” she answered cheekily. “What did you get?”

  “Here.” He took her hand and gave her a small box. She appeared surprised and opened the package silently. Her wide, lush mouth broke into a smile. Inside were earrings nestled on a velvet cushion. Instead of jeweled studs, each earring had a silver dice with black numeral dots on each facet of the cube.

  “Thank you,” she said simply, clearly pleased and touched by his gift. She immediately placed them on her dainty earlobes. “How do I look?” She tucked a lock of fake hair behind a dainty ear. There was uncertainty in those cat eyes.

  Nic had known women far more beautiful than Lexie, but her appeal to him went beyond that. There was something almost unaffected about her. “You take my breath away.”

  She blushed a becoming pink at his rather trite but true sentiment, and Nic fell deeper under her spell.

  And because he couldn’t help it, he murmured, “Don’t I get a thank you kiss in exchange?”

  She wrinkled her pert little nose at him in mock disapproval. “Don’t you do anything merely out of the goodness of your heart?”

  He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. “
Kissing you is a very good cardio workout. Just the thought of it is already making my heart race. Feel it.”

  “Oh, in that case, your health should come first.” She leaned towards him and Nic swooped down, capturing her lips and giving his heart an intensive workout for several minutes. Nic didn’t know how long they stayed out in the street. Only some catcalls from a passing car snapped him out of the moment.

  “Red, I think we better take this someplace else where we can finish,” he whispered roughly.

  Lexie blinked as if coming out from a deep slumber. “No. Not yet. I have another item on my list,” she mumbled.

  “What list?”

  As usual, she ignored him. She appeared to be a woman on a mission. As if fuelled by a higher power, she dragged Nic a few stores back where they came from. Nic stared incredulously at the neon signage. “Vinny’s Skin Art,” he read incredulously. “You want to get inked?” Somehow he didn’t peg her to be the type.

  She nodded with what appeared to be a mix of trepidation and determination aimed at the façade of the tattoo parlor. “I’m scared of needles.”

  Nic shook his head, completely flummoxed. “Then why do it?”

  She sent him a piercing look. “Because I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

  He looked at her for several seconds then simply held out his hand for her to take. She grasped it and they entered the shop.

  * * *

  Sensing that she was nervous, Vinny, a muscled Italian with a Brooklyn accent who, luckily, was in the store that night, made her drink a vodka on the house to calm her nerves. He was delighted that Lexie had seen his sample artwork courtesy of Freya.

  “Normally you would have to book in advance to get a slot, but somebody chickened out,” he said, grinning. His black wife beater showed off his intricate tats.

  “It’s our lucky night,” Nic said blandly.

  “It must be my lucky earrings,” Lexie said, touching one of them, then realized what he had just said. “You’re getting one, too?” Lexie was starting to feel really relaxed by the cranberry vodka, now her official favorite drink. She was lounging on a mechanical chair, the one with fancy hydraulics. Around the walls were samples of artwork you could choose from.

  “Sure. Why not?” he shrugged casually.

  “Mind you, it can’t be anything too complicated or original. For that, I need days to draw out the design from your concept before we can execute it.”

  “No,” Lexie started to shake her head and stopped, feeling a bit lightheaded in a pleasant way. “I want something simple. Just something to remember this night.”

  Vinny ambled off to prepare his materials. “Be back in a jiffy.”

  “What is Nic short for?”

  “Nicolas.” Each syllable was drawn out, melodious. “What is Lexie short for?” he riposted quickly.

  “Just Lexie.”

  “Are we still playing this game?”

  “What game?”

  “The 20/20 questions. Twenty questions from me and twenty non-answers from you.”

  Her face fell. It’s not that she wanted to hide her identity from Nic. Sooner or later he was bound to find out. She’d rather it be later. “Not now.”

  She heard him sigh in frustration as he dropped on an identical chair across her. She was saved by Vinny, who came back with an assistant.

  “This is Mike.” He gestured to the young looking man who appeared to be barely out of high school. At the doubt in Nic’s eyes, he said: “He’s a genius. Trained him myself.” He addressed Mike. “You take care of him,” he said, pointing to Nic, then he turned to Lexie. “And I’ll take care of this sweetheart.”

  “Naturally,” was Nic’s sardonic reply.

  Lexie saw the warning glance Nic shot Vinny.

  “Where do you want it, honey?”

  “Here, please.” Lexie shrugged off Nic’s coat, revealing her delectable body, and gestured to her shoulder blade. He really hoped the tat artist’s hands remained where they ought to. He wasn’t looking for another fight.

  “Is your name Nick spelled as in N-i-c-k?” She craned her neck to look past Vinny’s bulk. It was blocking her view. She almost dropped her drink when she saw Nic pulling off his shirt, revealing tanned, well-defined chest and arms. His jeans were riding a bit low on his hips, framing flat washboard abs. Oh, mio Dio! She took another sip of her drink to fortify herself against the lust−inducing display. Would anyone notice if she discreetly rubbed the cold, moist vodka bottle against her neck to cool her off?

  “N-i-c.” Mike was wiping some antiseptic on one of his biceps. He cocked an eyebrow at her question.

  Vinny made her lie prone on the chair, which had magically straightened out like a bed. Nic was across her, just a few feet away. She turned her head towards him, her hands pillowing her cheek. “I have to make sure Vinny gets the spelling right.”

  “The spelling?” His head shot up and electric blue eyes pinned her with lightning intensity as he quickly understood the import of her words. So this is what smoldering looks like, Lexie thought with a hint of hysteria. She was unable to look away from Nic. Her whole body felt hot and heavy, so much so that the first prick of the needle didn’t bother her too much. Her nipples were poking into the cushion of the chair. She started to feel overheated and moist down under.

  “Don’t move,” Vinny admonished when she squeezed her legs tighter. Oh, God, I am so going to get it later. Oddly, the thought didn’t send her into a panic. She was filled with breathless anticipation. She had closed her eyes to block out Nic’s gorgeousness from burning her retina but when she opened them, he was raking his blue eyes all over her body in a way that made her boneless. He stroked his lip with his forefinger, and Lexie bit on hers to stop from moaning.

  “Stop it,” she croaked, and the activity on her shoulder blade ceased. “Not you,” she ground out over her shoulder to Vinny. “Him!”

  Nic smothered a laugh, not minding Mike’s needle. The man was clearly enjoying himself at her expense. Lexie decided it was payback time. She caught his eye and deliberately made a show of dragging her gaze down all over his body until she settled on the area between his legs. In disbelief, the wicked man splayed his limbs even wider, making himself more comfortable. She gave a small gasp of faux outrage when she saw the bulge in his crotch. With a huff, as much as she could do anyway without Vinny complaining she was moving too much, she turned her face away. But not before she saw the amused gleam in his electric blues that had her smiling like an idiot until Vinny was done with her.

  * * *

  Nic insisted on paying for their tats even though she was secretly a modern royal and carried money with her, unlike Stefan, who delegated everything to his personal secretary. She gave in graciously. Everything was rosy in her alcohol-induced buzz.

  “Show me your tattoo,” Lexie demanded. They stepped out of the shop as the taxi they called in pulled up by the curb. Nic pulled up his right sleeve. “Rojita,” she read, trying to make out the letters written in beautiful cursive. Then understanding dawned. “It means little red one,” she translated, suddenly short of breath. She touched her wig involuntarily.

  He smiled in amazement. “You know Spanish?”

  She nodded. “It was a requirement. I had to learn four languages as a child−” she broke off, suddenly remembering she was a different person tonight. Nic’s smile faltered and his expression became shuttered.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  There was a definite chill inside the cab. Lexie suddenly felt awkward as the driver asked for their destination. Nic’s eyes were glittering even in the dim interior. When she refused to say anything, he said evenly, “The Bellagio.”

  “Nic.” She reached out for his hand tentatively, needing his warmth. He was staring rigidly out of the window. “Please, don’t be like this. Not tonight.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what you want to know tomorrow.” Tomorrow I can handle it. I must.

  His shoulders relaxed imperceptib
ly. “What do you want from me, Lexie?” His tone was neutral but his eyes were another story. “I need you to say it.”

  Did she dare? Again? To be reckless and foolish? It was only for one goddamn night. She owed it to herself, and after…she wouldn’t think about that now. She wouldn’t, not when Nic’s eyes were clearly telling her the same thing she needed.

  She took a deep breath. ”I want you to make love to me, Nic,” she declared, finally jumping off the tower, free falling.

  Chapter Four

  The moment the door of his hotel room slammed close, Nic had her back pressed against it in two seconds flat. Both his arms were flanking her head, trapping her.

  “I’m clean, Lexie. I had myself tested months ago and I haven’t,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “been,” and the area between nose and lips, “with a woman since.”

  He paused, and she knew it was her cue. “I haven’t been with a man since−” she floundered, “since then, too.” Lexie doubted he had even heard what she had said.

  He leaned in closer, angling his head towards her neck. “Did you just sniff me?” she squeaked.

  “Hhhmm,” he murmured, “you smell so fucking good.” And he sniffed again. “Like a flower,” he nuzzled the skin under her jaw, “the purple one.”

  Due to her repressed upbringing, or at least, that was how she chose to justify it, Lexie found nothing as erotic as the combination of the F word and a gorgeous, sexy man who was going to be effing her in a few moments. Okay, scratch that. The big hand that was presently slinking up her thigh right this second and nearing its presumed target? That was just as effing erotic, too.

  “It’s lavender−oohh!” Lexie attempted to sound sexy and breathy at the start, all soft, tremulous moans and sighs issuing forth from her lips as Nic did wicked things to her body, but all veneer of sex kitten left her when his tongue darted inside her ear and started doing things there that should be declared illegal. “Aaargh!” It was a cross between a giggle and a whimper of pleasure but managed to sound like a cat purring with a hairball stuck in its throat. Lexie started sliding down to the floor but Nic caught her and strode to the bed, laying her down gently.