Leopold

Part Two

Ember Casey

Renna Peak

Casey Peak Publishing, LLC

Contents

Copyright

Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

1. Leo

2. Elle

3. Leo

4. Elle

5. Leo

6. Elle

7. Leo

8. Elle

9. Leo

10. Elle

11. Leo

12. Elle

The Royal Heartbreakers Series

Leopold

Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

Also by Ember Casey

Also by Renna Peak

This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition: July, 2016

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Leo

It’s not often I contemplate murder, but I’m considering it right now.

The rain-soaked man in the doorway is bigger than me—around the middle, anyway—but I think I could take him. Of all the moments for him to come bursting in…

Elle rushes forward, straightening her clothes. She was finally opening up to me, finally letting her walls come down, and this bastard had to ruin it all. I start to sit up, ready to throw the man right back out into the storm, but my wound protests. I grimace and settle for simply propping myself up into a sitting position.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that he interrupted us, I tell myself as my head goes slightly fuzzy. If I’d kissed her, I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself from doing more. And I’m beginning to think Elle might have been right about the importance of keeping still and lying down. The side of my chest is throbbing, and I’m feeling a little dizzy from the motion of sitting up.

Of course, that doesn’t keep me from glaring daggers at the portly man standing on the threshold. It’s hard to see much of him in the dim, flickering light, but I dislike him already.

“Please come in, Dr. Mitchell,” Elle is saying. “Sit down. Let me get you something to drink.”

Why the hell is she trying to impress this man? He’s her damned replacement. That’s all.

As Dr. Walter Mitchell comes further into the room, I get a better look at him. He’s probably in his fifties, and his silver hair is clipped short. His face is clean-shaven, which makes the deep grooves on either side of his mouth more prominent. His thick eyebrows nearly meet as his stern gaze drifts over Elle—and then me.

“And who is this?” he asks her, jerking a thumb in my direction. “Tell me—do you regularly have romantic liaisons in the clinic?”

Even in the dim light, I can see Elle blush.

“I…” She runs her hands over her clothes again, but tidying her appearance will do little now. “He…”

“I’m her patient,” I say.

The man’s frown deepens. “This is a children’s clinic.”

I shrug—then immediately regret it as pain sears through my side. “I never would have made it to the hospital in this typhoon. As I’m sure you can attest.”

He steps nearer, clearly unamused. In fact, he rather reminds me of an angry mastiff.

“Typhoons occur only in the Western Pacific Basin,” he says as he approaches my gurney. “I imagine you meant to say hurricane, but even that would be incorrect, as we’re three hundred and twenty-seven miles from the coast.” He stops beside me. “And that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Or why, if you are indeed a patient, the doctor was lying on the gurney with you.”

He says the word doctor with a sneer that makes his jowls shake. The man is practically a cartoon villain, and I’d find him quite amusing if it weren’t for the absolutely mortified look on Elle’s face. Part of me wants to declare plainly and boldly that Elle is mine and that I will stand for no one insulting her—but I have an inkling such a statement would not go over well with either of the two people in the room with me.

“Perhaps you need glasses,” I tell him. “Because she was doing no more than seeing to my wounds. Or did you miss the large bandage on my chest?” I indicate the wrappings. “I have a hard time believing any doctor of merit would miss such an obvious injury. Perhaps we should ask to see your credentials.”

He gives a snort of derision, but I can tell I’ve shaken him slightly because he takes his glare off of me and looks back toward Elle.

“The light in here is dim,” he concedes, “but I’m not blind. You were inappropriately close to him.”

“Because she had to be,” I say, trying to draw his attention back to me. “How else could she give me care in such conditions? I would have preferred she didn’t have to poke around at me in the dark, but the doctor insisted that she tend to my wound immediately. And I found her incredibly gentle and capable, considering the circumstances.”

The man turns back to me. “I think the doctor should answer me herself.”

“And what right have you to come in here and demand such things?” I say, maintaining a light tone even though I’m growing more agitated by the second. “You still have yet to show us any credentials. And even if you are who you say you are—which I’m beginning to question, I might add—then Doctor Parker is still in charge at the moment, which means you have no authority to demand anything of her.” My, this feels good. If I can’t throw a fist at the fellow, I rather enjoy being able to give him a solid trouncing with words.

Dr. Mitchell looks at Elle again. “Who the hell is this prick?” he asks her.

She starts to tell him, but I’m not ready to reveal my identity quite yet. This bastard has interrupted my night with Elle—and for that, he has to suffer.

“Ask me yourself, you pompous buffoon,” I say. I know I shouldn’t purposely provoke him—professional responsibility and all that—but I have to admit I’m rather amused by the look in his eyes when he spins back toward me. For a moment, I think he’s going to lunge across the gurney and try to strangle me, but then he seems to remember where he is. He takes a deep breath—probably an attempt to calm himself—but his face is still red in the candlelight.

“Do you actually intend to tell me who you are?” he asks, and though his tone is calm, it looks as if it’s taking some effort to get out the words. “Or do you mean to insult my intelligence again?”

“Oh, I have the deepest respect for your intelligence,” I say with a grin. “It’s the rest of you I’m insulting. Though…now that I think about it, I suppose only a bloody fool would see a doctor tending to her patient and assume anything untoward was happening. Or is it simply the fact that she’s a female doctor and I’m a rather attractive male patient that made you form such ridiculous conclusions? Could it be that you have some rather misogynistic opinions about women in your field, Doctor?”

He’s beginning to get that look again—the one that makes him resemble an angry hound—but suddenly Elle is at his elbow.

“Why don’t we go speak in my office?” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “We’ll have a little more privacy there. I’m sure you’ve had a long trip.”

“Ah, but he and I are in the middle of such a delightful conversation,” I say.

Elle shoots me a glare as she ushers the new arrival toward the door, but I can only grin. She might be annoyed with me for intentionally aggravating the man, but at least it shifted his focus off of her—and the little scene he witnessed when he walked in.

He still hasn’t paid dearly enough for interrupting us. Elle was in my arms. Pressed against me. She felt so soft and tender beneath my hands, and she was finally letting me see more of her, glimpse the complicated woman beneath her passionate but guarded exterior.

I’m tempted to go after Elle and Dr. Mitchell. But frankly, even if I were willing to risk hurting myself further—which might not be the worst thing if I could throw another amusing taunt or two at the new doctor—I’m not willing to risk Elle’s anger any more than I already have.

So I lie back down and wait. Listen to the rain thudding on the roof overhead. Lace my fingers together and try to imagine what he might be saying to her. What she might be saying to him.

I’ll be quite disappointed if she tells him who I am. I’d rather like to see his face when he finds out I’m the second son of the royal family that will be paying his salary while he’s here.

I hope she doesn’t let him bully her into admitting she was lying on the gurney with me, either. But the more I think about it, the more I realize I have little reason to worry. Elle is as stubborn as they come. She’ll hold her own against that grump.

And either way, she’ll only have to bear his presence for a couple more days. After that, she’ll return to California.

I rub my face. I didn’t mean to offend her by suggesting a secret rendezvous upon her return home. If she’d prefer to be seen with me in public, I have no objections—at least as far as my own interest is concerned. But then she’d be subject to public scrutiny. Dealing with the press can be a challenge, and I’ve been handling them for as long as I can remember. If Elle is photographed with me even once, her whole life will change. A secret meeting would be far simpler.

But I still have two days to convince her of that. Two days…unless…

I sit up so quickly, a fresh stab of pain shoots through my wound.

The new doctor is here. She has no reason to stay for two more days. Sure, I might argue her contract isn’t complete, but what could I do? Dock her a couple of days’ pay? Yesterday, she would have paid me for the chance to get out of my presence. Today? I’m not so certain. If that man hadn’t come barging in…

The more I think about it, the less I like the idea of Elle and her replacement talking alone. That fool was ready to take charge from the moment he walked through the door, judging by the condescending way he spoke to Elle. And she was already disposed to leave. They’re probably in there discussing the terms of her departure.

I have to get in there. I have to stop her.

My feet are on the floor when the door swings open. In the candlelight, I see Elle standing there. Alone.

“Why are you sitting up?” she says. “Lie back down.”

I ignore her. “Where’s our new friend?”

“On his way to the apartment where he’ll be living while he’s here,” she says, coming toward me. “I convinced him that we could discuss everything in the morning. After we’ve all had a good night’s sleep.” She crosses her arms. “Not that you were any help. What the hell was that?”

I’m more than a little grateful to hear he’s out of our hair for tonight, even though I know this is only the beginning. Doctor Mitchell is a complication, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with him for another day or two at least.

“Come now,” I say, putting on a grin. “Don’t tell me you weren’t inclined to throw a few choice words at him yourself. He had no right to come in here and accuse you of being inappropriate.”

“But that’s just it,” she says. “It was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have been on that gurney with you, no matter what idiotic things you said. And I shouldn’t have kissed you, or… Why are you still sitting up? Lie down.”

No. I’m not letting her pull away.

“He still shouldn’t have said those things,” I say carefully. “And I stand by everything I said to him.”

“Well, I guess you can get away with saying things like that to someone.”

“You could, too. Why do you care what he thinks?”

“Because this job matters to me. And that means what my colleagues think about me matters, too. It’s hard enough for women to get the same respect as men in this field.”

I can tell by the look in her eyes that there’s more to this than what she’s saying. Something that goes beyond our new friend. I instantly dislike him even more for bringing up those old feelings for her.

“Did you tell him who I was?” I ask her.

“No. But I should have.”

I’m grateful to hear she hasn’t spoiled my fun. I’m going to enjoy playing with that bastard. But that brings us to the next question—one that’s infinitely more important.

“You still intend to finish your term here, don’t you?” I ask. “Even though Dr. Mitchell arrived early?”

Something flickers in her eyes, but in the near-darkness I can’t tell if it’s guilt or regret or surprise at my question.

And before she can answer, the door bursts open again.

I swear, I’ll get right off this gurney and punch that buffoon—

But then I blink. It’s not the new doctor at the door. It’s Matthias. And the poor fellow looks a little worse for wear.

“Your Highness,” he says, shuffling forward. Rain pours off his clothes. “Your Highness, I tried to talk him out of it. Honestly, I did.”

My head is starting to ache again. “Talk who out of what?” He didn’t run into Dr. Mitchell, did he?

But Matthias is shaking his head fervently, sending raindrops flying in every direction.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I told him everything was under control. I told him you would be fine, but your father—”

“My father?” Shit.

Matthias nods. “He was asleep when I called, you see. But Stephan insisted on waking him and telling him everything that had happened. And his majesty was none too pleased to hear that you’d been injured.”

I can tell by the expression on his face that none too pleased is more than a slight understatement. And I can’t imagine how my father has decided to deal with this situation.

“Well?” I ask Matthias. “Where has he decided to ship me off to now?” Since sending me deep into the jungle didn’t keep me out of trouble, I suspect the next logical step is to chain me in a dungeon somewhere.

But Matthias shakes his head again. “He’s not sending you anywhere, Your Highness. He’s sending your brother Andrew here.”

* * *

Elle

The light might be dim, but there’s something in Leo’s reaction to hearing his brother’s name that tells me I’m missing a big part of this story.

His eyes widen at first, maybe in shock. But then his lip curls into a sneer. “Andrew.” He almost growls the name.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. I know things have been difficult between you and your elder brother. And I promise you, I did try and explain to His Majesty…”

Leo says nothing, but he does lie back down on the bed. He kicks his legs up with a groan and splints his wound with both hands, lacing his fingers together. He stares up at the ceiling in silence.

I can’t help but feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t be seeing. Like I’ve intruded on some personal secret neither man wants revealed. Earlier, I wanted so badly to know what was going on—and now I find I don’t. My cheeks are burning with embarrassment—as though I’m reading Leo’s diary or something—and I almost can’t wait to get out of here.

My voice falters. “I…I’ll let you two work this out.” I motion with my hands toward the back of the clinic. “I need to do some other stuff, anyway, so if you could keep an eye on him, Matthias, and let me know if anything…” I don’t know what’s happening to me—tears are stinging at my eyes. I blink them back. I’m trying so hard to cover up what’s just happened in my office with the other doctor, and I know I’m in danger of falling apart—which is the last thing I want to do in front of Leo. “If you need anything, you can come and find me.”

Everything has changed now. Two days ago, I couldn’t wait to get out of here. If someone had told me the new doctor would be here early, I would have jumped for joy. It isn’t like I have anything waiting for me at home, but I’m done here. Done with this past year.

Before a few days ago, it seemed like there was nothing left here for me. I have things I still want to do for the people I’ve met here, but I want to go home, even if it’s only for a little while. And Leo’s family has made sure I don’t have a choice in the matter.

“Elle.” Leo’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Don’t go.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking about now or… No. He has to be talking about now. I think I made it pretty clear there isn’t going to be some secret ongoing affair in his Beverly Hills hideaway. And I don’t see what difference it’s going to make—whether I go to my room now or not. And as for leaving Rio de Campo, well, there’s nothing to discuss about that, either.

I force a smile and make myself go back into doctor mode. I realize now I should never have let myself out of doctor mode—it makes things easier, at least with Leo. “I’ll be in the back. Matthias can find me if you need something. We can give you more aspirin in a few hours if your stomach is still doing all right, and there should be some daylight by then so we can do your sutures then, too.” I turn my gaze to Matthias. “If you see his bandage has soaked through, though, let us know. We can do the stitches by candlelight if we need to.” Leo doesn’t need to know why I’m using the word “we”—that no matter what he needs, I won’t be able to be the one attending to him any longer.

The wiry man nods. “Yes, Doctor. I’ll let you know right away.”

“Good.” I clasp my hands in front of me and force a smile. “Good. Everything is all good.” I’m lying—mostly to myself, but I think I’ve put on a pretty good act for the two men. Leo doesn’t seem to suspect I’m hiding anything from him, at least. I turn to grab a candle from the counter. I light it quickly and almost run to my room, closing the door behind me. I set the candle down on my makeshift table and sink onto my bed.

I’m not going to let myself cry. I never let myself get like this—all overwhelmed with this…this feeling. I don’t even want to say it to myself, but I know what it is. Shame.

Tramp. That disgusting asshole had actually had the nerve to use that word. I hate how it still affects me like this—I haven’t even let myself think about the reason I came here a year ago. The stigma of my past hadn’t followed me here until now.

I’m ready to leave, I remind myself. Meeting Leo shouldn’t have complicated things. But the new doctor seeing me in a compromising position with Leo definitely complicated things. Having Dr. Mitchell tell me I needed to vacate the premises before he made a call to my employer—well, I didn’t tell him he wouldn’t need to make a call. I didn’t mention he could have a few more words with the man lying on the gurney. Leo was having so much fun hurling insults at the new doctor that I didn’t want to spoil the fun I know he’ll have when he gets to reveal who he is.

But I hate how Dr. Mitchell threw my past in my face. He has clearly done his homework, unlike Leo. Maybe I really am a slut who can’t keep her panties on to save her life. I didn’t leave the best reputation behind me back in the States, and serving a year here should have gone a long way in fixing that—not cementing it. Now that the new guy has seen me in a precarious position, it’s doubtful I’ll be able to get a decent job when I get home. And he told me if I didn’t go before he gets back in a half an hour, he’ll make sure everyone on earth knows he found me sleeping with a patient. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out who Leo is, which makes it doubly bad, just like I thought it would. If anyone believes I was sleeping with a patient who is also my boss, it would be the end of my career. And my career can’t handle anyone in medicine thinking I’m sleeping with my boss. Again.

Shit.

The asshole new doctor also made it pretty clear he believes he’s better qualified than I am to care for the children here. Not that I can really argue with that. I’m only two years out of residency now—I still have a lot to learn. I’ve never denied it. When I saw the email about the opening in Rio de Campo last year and it was right after everything in my life started to fall apart, I couldn’t resist applying. I’m not conceited enough to believe I was the best-qualified applicant—I was probably the only applicant, or I never would have been able to get this job.

But whatever. I think I’ve done pretty well here. This place was a disaster when I arrived and I’d like to think it’s a little less of one now. This clinic is still a living nightmare, but I think my system of running it is better than what was going on when I first arrived. Not that any of this matters at all now. My one-year term here is up and the royal family declined to extend my contract. I guess Leo missed that in his files, too—it seemed like he was pretty bored with having to be here at all, so it shouldn’t surprise me he didn’t notice that particular detail.

At least I wasn’t fired. Leo’s family could have done that if they’d wanted to. They promised a reference and a contract completion bonus, which should at least be enough to get me home and hopefully to help me get a new job. Whatever I can find for employment is not going to be the greatest job in the world—I’ll probably end up working at a low-income clinic or something—but at least I can do something meaningful while I’m saving up to come back here.

I begin to toss my things into my suitcase. I haven’t acquired much while I’ve been here. I think I’ll trash most of my clothes, anyway. There’s nothing left that I care too much about and little that isn’t bloodstained. The completion bonus can buy me a few new things when I get back home. Interview clothes, anyway.

I weed out the items to toss and only keep a few outfits—only enough to get me back home. I shove my books and magazines into the suitcase, too. I might have left them for the new doctor, but considering what a dick he is, I’m not going to do anything nice for him. He can buy his own books or send Raul up to Santa Rosa to get magazines for him.

I have to blink back tears again, thinking about Raul. I’ll have to figure out a way to say goodbye to him without coming back into the clinic tomorrow. I guess I can try to stop by his house before I get on the bus to Santa Rosa, at least to give a message to his wife.

After I finish packing, I set my suitcase down on the floor next to my bed. I sigh to myself—I’m going to have to go back out there. I guess I could try to sneak through the back door and go around to the front to get my few things from the office, but it will be hard not to make any noise considering how dark it is in the lobby. And a candle won’t make it through the rain.

I open my door and set my suitcase in the hallway, careful to make as little sound as possible. I grab the candle and walk back into the corridor, listening for a moment. There’s no talking or anything coming from the treatment area, so I decide to risk it—to go through there to retrieve my stuff from the office.

I suck in a breath and puff out my chest—I’m not even fooling myself with the brave show, but maybe it will work on Leo. Or if I’m really lucky, maybe he’s fallen asleep.

I try not to think about how that would be a bad thing, given his head injury. Dr. Mitchell can deal with that when he comes back to the clinic in a little while. And maybe by morning, the rain will have stopped and Raul will return with the car. Leo can go to the hospital to get his stitches—I can’t imagine he’ll enjoy being treated by the new guy.

After I take a few tentative steps into the treatment area, I see Leo is not only not asleep, he’s propped himself up with pillows so he’s almost sitting up. Matthias is pacing back and forth in a semi-circle around the two gurneys.

I force a smile. “I just need to grab something from my office.”

Leo tilts his head. “Surely there’s nothing in your office that can’t wait until daylight, Elle.” He lifts an eyebrow before he pats the space next to him on the gurney—the spot where I was lying in his arms only a few minutes ago. “You could rejoin me.”

I look over at Matthias and shake my head.

Leo glances over at the man, who isn’t paying much attention to either of us—Matthias seems to be talking to himself. Leo smiles. “I assure you, Matthias is a most trusted confidant. He would never even consider—”

Matthias interrupts. “It’s true, Doctor. I would never consider betraying His Royal Highness’s trust.”

I force another plastic smile. “I’ll just be a second.”

Leo’s brow furrows with disappointment when I decline. I dart to the door, avoiding the large puddle from the two dripping men who entered earlier.

I walk into my dark office and grab a few things, tucking them under my arm before walking back to the treatment area.

I don’t look over at Leo—I don’t want to make eye contact. I know he can see right through me, even in the dim lighting. And I don’t want him asking questions. The best thing that can happen is for me to get out of here. For me to go to the hostel. I’ll wake Owen up and ask for a room—I don’t even care if I have to sleep on a mat on the floor. I only want this night to be over and I really want to get the hell out of here—out of this country. Away from Leo and away from my past that seems to follow me wherever I go.

But the doctor in me kicks in before I can actually make myself go to the back door—even though I only have a few minutes left before Dr. Mitchell returns. I look over at Leo, trying to see his bandage in the flickering candlelight. “Are you okay?”

He nods before motioning with his head at me. “What is it you have there?” He pauses for a moment and narrows his gaze.

I paste another fake smile on my face. “Just a few things I didn’t want to forget. I’m leaving, you know.” I pause for a second, trying to read his expression. “In two days,” I add for good measure. It’ll be easier if he doesn’t ask questions. And he’s in no position to come chasing after me, anyway—not with his injuries.

My answer seems to satisfy him, and he doesn’t say anything else to me. His eyes go back to following Matthias around the room.

I see my chance to bolt and I decide to take it. I race into the hallway and shove the stuff in my arms into my suitcase before I pick it up and walk down the back hallway. I stop at the door—for one tiny moment, I want desperately to turn around. If I told him—if I could tell Leo the truth about everything—he could use his position to save me. He could tell Doctor Asshole to go to hell. He could rescue me like some fairy tale prince.

But I can’t do that. I don’t need or want some man—prince or not—to rescue me. I got myself into this mess. I know I have to get myself out and nothing else matters—not feelings or desires or even my stupid hormones. I’m the only one who can fix this.

“I’m sorry.” I say the words under my breath, and I’m not really sure who I’m apologizing to—Leo or myself.

But I open the door and walk out into the rain without saying goodbye.

* * *

Leo

Something isn’t right.

In truth, a lot of things aren’t right—my brother’s impending arrival not the least of them—but right now, it’s difficult to focus on anything but what’s happening right here at the clinic. I’ll concern myself with Andrew’s arrival later. Right now, I need to understand what’s going on with Elle. Something about the look in her eyes…about the tone of her voice when she said she was leaving…

I lean forward, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through the side of my chest. My God, this wound is inconvenient.

“Your Highness?” Matthias says. He stops pacing to look at me. “Do you need something?”

I’d prefer to go charging after Elle myself, but she’ll have a fit if she sees me out of bed again, and I’m not inclined to upset her.

“Will you go get the doctor?” I ask him. “Tell her I think I might need those stitches sooner rather than later.”

Matthias nods. “Of course, Your Highness.” He takes a couple of steps toward the door and then stops, looking back at me. “I truly am sorry about your brother—”

“I know,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Let’s not worry about that now.” I’m not exactly pleased with Matthias at the moment, but I know firsthand how difficult my father can be. I can’t blame my poor valet for letting it come to this.

Matthias gives another nod and hurries out the door, and I lean back once more.

While she’s here, I should have her look at Matthias’s head again, I tell myself. If the fellow suffers brain damage at my hand, I’ll never forgive myself. In fact, between Matthias and me, there are enough injuries to keep Elle occupied all night. Now, more than ever, I don’t want her out of my sight. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I force myself to close my eyes and take a deep breath as I wait. I’m feeling restless again, and I want nothing more than to leap up off this damned gurney and take care of all of this myself, my wound be damned. It’s merely a scratch. I’m hardly in the throes of death. It’s insufferably inconvenient to be confined to a gurney when I feel like this.

What’s taking him so damn long? This clinic isn’t particularly large. It can’t be that difficult to find her. But perhaps she’s seen through the ruse, and he has to convince her… No. Whatever Elle thinks of me, her professional responsibility comes first. If there’s even the possibility I might need more care, she’ll return with Matthias.

But as the minutes tick by, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I was wrong about her after all.

Where in bloody hell are they? My leg shakes against the gurney, itching to be in motion. I try to listen to the rain pounding against the roof—it’s coming down harder than ever—but it won’t do. I can’t bear sitting still a moment longer.

I sit up again and swing my legs over the side of the gurney. Perhaps I really will need stitches by the end of this, but right now, that’s of little matter. My gut still churns with a dread I cannot name.

This is ridiculous, I tell myself as I stand. She’s just a woman. An intriguing woman, perhaps, but still just a woman. There’s no reason for me to be this agitated over her. No reason for me to worry so much about what was said between her and that pompous fool of a man who just arrived. Maybe I’ve lost more blood than I thought, and I’m going mad.

But I don’t feel mad as I move toward the door. A little unsteady on my feet, perhaps, but otherwise I feel perfectly hale. And I’m determined to have some answers from Elle, one way or another.

When I get to the lobby, though, instead of finding Elle, I find Matthias talking to the new doctor. The man looks none too pleased to be conversing with my valet, and Matthias himself seems rather upset.

“What the hell are you doing back here?” I demand. “Where’s Elle?”

Doctor Mitchell’s frown deepens as he turns his gaze to me.

“I’ll be taking over your care,” he says. “At least as soon as this man decides to get out of my way.”

“That man has as much right to be here as you do,” I say. “And I believe I asked you where Elle was.” I look to my valet. “Matthias?”

Matthias shakes his head. “I couldn’t find her. And then this man—”

“I am the physician here now,” the other man says. “I have every right to be here. And if you are to be my patient, then I expect you to obey my orders. If you can’t accomplish that, then I recommend you find medical care elsewhere. I can’t help patients who have no desire to be helped.”

If I thought I disliked this man before, it’s nothing to what I feel now.

“I won’t ask you another time, Doctor,” I say. “Where is Elle?”

He sneers. “So you two are on a first-name basis, I see. That’s pretty unusual for someone who claims there was nothing unprofessional going on between the two of you.” He crosses his arms. “And I’ve answered your question. I am the physician here now. As of tonight, this place is under my authority.”

Instantly, my blood goes hot. Elle can’t be gone.

But she certainly isn’t here. Did this bastard kick her out? Or did she leave of her own will? I don’t like either possibility.

“Where did she go?” I demand. Where could she go in this weather?

But he only shrugs. “What she does with herself now is of little concern to me. She’s sullied this clinic with her unprofessional behavior. She’s an embarrassment to our profession, whoring her way through every job she’s—”

He doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence because my fist slams into his jaw.

And I don’t stop there.

My first punch sends him stumbling back a step. My second gets him right in the gut. He doubles over and falls onto his giant rump.

I’m on him in an instant, pinning him down. His collar is in my fist. I learned basic hand-to-hand combat during my time in the Montovia Royal Military, but I honed my fighting skills in the clubs—I might be a prince, but anyone who’s spent as much time as I have at discotheques and celebrity parties is sure to have found himself in a number of alcohol-fueled scuffles. The arrogant new doctor, it appears, has no such experience.

“How dare you say those things about her,” I growl through gritted teeth. “You foul, pompous, putrid excuse for a—”

“Your Highness,” Matthias says, tugging at my arm. “Your Highness, you must let him go.”

“I’m not letting this repulsive man go until he apologizes for what he’s said.” I give the doctor’s collar a shake for good measure, and his eyes go wide as he grips my wrist with both hands. I think I might actually be getting through to the bastard.

But then his eyebrows snap together in anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says. “Get off of me at once! I’m going to call the police—”

“As I’ve said, I have no intention of getting off of you until you take back what you said.” I tighten my grip. “I want a genuine apology. And you know what? I want you to give it Elle directly.” I look at Matthias. “We need to find her. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“Certainly not, Your Highness,” Matthias says. “But I really think it would be better if you released him first.” Matthias is looking incredibly nervous, the poor fellow. “Your Highness, if your father hears of this—”

“He won’t hear of this unless you tell him,” I point out, but then my attention falls back to the man pinned beneath me. He’s suddenly gone very still—almost limp—and he’s stopped trying to fight his way out of my grip.

The doctor’s eyes have gone as wide as saucers, and his gaze slides between me and Matthias—back and forth, back and forth, until suddenly it stops on me. His mouth is hanging open. Perhaps I hit him harder than I thought and he’s succumbing to the pain.

But then he speaks, and though his voice is quiet, I read more than enough in his expression.

“What did he call you?” the doctor asks me before looking back at Matthias. “You called him—”

“His Highness,” Matthias says automatically, “His Royal Highness, Prince Leopold Augustus Xavier Lothair, second son of Edmund II, Prince of Montovia.”

This wasn’t precisely how I expected this reveal to occur, but I must admit the doctor’s reaction is properly satisfying. His eyes get even wider and his fleshy bottom lip trembles. I’m not surprised he hasn’t recognized me—he doesn’t strike me as the type to read celebrity tabloids—but my accent should have been a dead giveaway if he’d actually taken a moment to listen to me.

“You…” he says. “You’re…”

The corner of my mouth curls up. “Essentially your boss? Responsible for your paycheck? Beloved royal son of the family that built this clinic? All true.” As far as he is concerned, anyway. “I was sent here to make sure your transition into your new role went smoothly, but I must say I’m less than impressed by what I’ve seen of you so far. Let’s see…you’ve insulted me, threatened to throw me out, and made vile accusations against the current doctor, even though she’s shown me nothing but professional—”

“You can’t be the prince,” he blurts, and I can tell by the desperate look in his eyes he’s starting to panic. “You’re a patient—”

“I did manage to cause myself a small injury,” I admit. “And why shouldn’t my own family’s clinic treat me?”

“But you… I saw you and her…”

“As I said, you saw her giving me care in less-than-ideal circumstances. She had to be close to me. It was dark.”

He shakes his head—at least as much as he can, considering I still have his collar in my fist.

“You’re not dressed like a prince,” he says, still apparently in denial.

“I’ll admit I do normally wear a shirt of some sort. But under the circumstances, it was an inconvenience.”

He starts to speak again, but I cut him off.

“And I suppose you’re going to say I don’t sound like a prince, either?” I ask. “I must say I’m surprised. Normally Americans can’t seem to get enough of my accent. I don’t understand what it is that makes you all so interested in—”

“It’s not your accent that confused me,” he says with a snarl. Apparently, his shock is starting to wear off and his anger is setting in again. “It’s your manners. Or is it considered polite in your country to insult a man you’ve just met?”

“When he’s a pompous old bag, I dare say it is,” I reply lightly. “But I’ll admit I’m growing tired of this game. Whether you find me polite or not, Doctor, I hold your future in my hands.” I yank on his collar, pulling his head up as I lean down and lower my voice. “Cross me and I promise you this will be the last job you ever hold in this esteemed profession. I will ensure every clinic and every hospital in the world knows you were dishonorably dismissed from your position here.” I release him, letting his head fall back to the floor. “Now tell me where Elle has gone.”

I’m not sure whether Doctor Mitchell is terrified of me or whether he wants to wring my neck—probably both. But he seems to realize he’s in no position to argue—either physically or professionally—so he scowls.

“How the hell should I know?” he says. “I just went to drop off my luggage. When I got back here, she was gone. You have been here the whole time. Shouldn’t you know where she is?”

She slipped away without telling anyone. I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.

I unpin the doctor, standing. Matthias reaches out to help me, which is probably good—my wound has opened up again. But there’s no time to think about that now. I need to find Elle. For her to go out in this storm, without even offering a farewell… I don’t want to think about what that means.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” I tell Matthias. “We must go after her at once.”

Matthias looks uncertain. “Your father would want you to rest and—”

“Damn my father. He’s on the other side of the world, in case you’ve forgotten.” And he might be sending my brother after me, but Andrew isn’t here yet. No one will stop me from going after Elle—not my father, not Andrew, not Matthias, not Doctor Mitchell. Not even this blasted storm still raging overhead.

I go over to the door and throw it open. Lightning flashes overhead. There are streams of water flowing down the dirt road outside.

Damn it, Elle. Were you so determined to get away from me that you went out in this maelstrom? I didn’t take you for an idiot. Though I suppose it wouldn’t be fair of me to accuse her of such a thing, considering I’m about to venture foolishly out into the same tempest. With an oozing wound across my torso, no less.

But if she thinks for one moment that a storm will stop me, she is sorely mistaken. I’m going after her, and God Himself will have to strike me down to keep me from her now.

* * *

Elle

Going out in this storm was a bad idea. The hostel might only be a few minutes’ walk away from the clinic, but that’s assuming the roads are intact. I didn’t even consider the river that has formed where the street used to be, nor did I think about the lack of lighting.

I wish I had brought that flashlight…

I walk—trudge might be a better word—through the ankle deep mud that is now the road to the hostel, guided only by the frequent lightning cracking overhead. And saying I’m wet would be a huge understatement. It’s like I’m standing under a gushing waterfall. But the hostel isn’t too far, and the only important thing at the moment is getting myself the hell away from the clinic. I can’t believe I’m doing this again—running away. I’m going to have to figure out how to face my problems head-on someday, but for now, escaping the entire situation seems like the best thing to do.

I think I’m almost there, but it’s hard to tell. I’m on the edge of what I know is the dirt road—it seems like the water is a lot deeper in the middle. The lightning hasn’t flashed in at least a minute or two. I must veer off course or something because when I take my next step, my leg sinks into mud halfway up my thigh.

My heart begins to pound, and my breaths are coming way too fast. I want to scream for a second before I realize I’m having a minor panic attack. I can’t believe I’m wishing for lightning—anything to light up the sky for even a second.

It’s like the universe—or at least the storm—is listening to me or something, because a huge bolt of electricity bursts from the sky overhead. I’ve somehow swerved into the middle of the road, which is more than a small stream now—it’s practically part of the river. I throw my suitcase over to the bank before I pull my leg out of the sludge.

My leg pops out with a sucking sound that is barely audible over the pouring rain and the rushing river that was the road a few hours ago. It takes me a second to realize my shoe is no longer on my foot.

Leaving the clinic was definitely a bad idea.

I panicked back there at the clinic after that douchebag doctor threatened me. My emotional wounds must still be a lot more open than I wanted to believe. I thought spending a year here would give me the confidence to stand on my own, but I guess it hasn’t. Now I’m standing one-shoed in the jungle, caught in the middle of a monsoon.

I am not going to cry. It’s all I’ve been telling myself since I walked out the door of the clinic. I’m not even sure why I feel the need to cry, except I’m in a pretty dire situation at the moment. It’s definitely not because I almost let myself be real with him. With Leo.

Damn it. Leo.

I swipe my drenched hair out of my eyes and trudge over to the bank of the new river to pick up my suitcase. I’m not even sure what the point of carrying it is anymore—the thing is completely saturated and I’m sure everything inside it is ruined by now, including my laptop. I should chuck it off into the trees next to me, but I remember my passport and identification are in there somewhere. Whatever happens, I’ll need those, and it’s not like I can open it up and fish out the stuff I truly need at this particular moment.

Lightning bolts through the sky again, and if the light weren’t so welcome, it would be fucking scary. The shallow area of the road-turned-river is close and I dash over there as quickly as my feet will carry me. I’m not making great time, but I was the idiot who didn’t think to bring a flashlight.

I test each step before I take another, determined not to get stuck in the mud again. It’s slow, but I’m pretty sure I can see La Playa up ahead. They have a real generator there, and they’ll at least have the lights on in the lobby.

I roll my eyes. And the bar. No reason to let a perfectly good squall go to waste—guests there who are hostage to the storm are great customers.

Owen won’t ask me questions. He won’t even think it’s weird I’m going to arrive looking like a drowned rat with only one shoe. He’ll probably offer me a shot of tequila, which doesn’t sound half bad at the moment.

I’ve never been the type to drink to numb my sorrows. No, I’m the one who runs. My current behavior will come as no surprise to my brother—not that he has much to brag about in the conduct department. And this is better, anyway. I’ll figure out how to get to Santa Rosa as soon as the storm dies down. I can hop on a plane and pretend this adventure never happened. And I’ll figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life as soon as I get back to California. I’m prone to overplanning things, but there’s no need to think about the details yet. I can worry about planning when my feet are on American soil again. Preferably dry soil. With shoes on my feet.

And I’ll pretend I never met that prince. There is no need for me even to acknowledge how I almost let him get to me. Because he didn’t. Our kiss meant nothing. It was just a normal, hormonal response any woman of childbearing age would have had around an attractive man. He doesn’t know me and I don’t know him. And I don’t want him to know me. This whole thing over the past few days was some stupid fantasy—a ridiculous fairy tale I made up in my imagination.

But I don’t deserve a happy ending. I know that, and there’s no need for me to involve anyone else in my messed up life. Especially a prince. Leo has enough issues being who he is—he certainly doesn’t need any of mine. If he actually knew the kind of person I really am, he’d know I’m not worth the effort.

Thank God the rain has washed his scent from me. But it hasn’t done a thing about the taste of him still lingering on my lips.

“Fucking princes!” I scream the words at the top of my lungs, certain that even if there were people around, they wouldn’t be able to hear me over the torrential rain and the cracking thunder.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

I suck in a breath and I spin around, but I can’t see anything in the darkness. His voice seemed distant, but I know he can’t be too far away or he wouldn’t have been able to hear me.

A dim light is approaching—I can’t see who’s holding it, but I know it has to be Leo. His accent is unmistakable, as is his sexy, low voice—there isn’t anyone else it could be. Not here.

I shake my head and try not to think about how he shouldn’t be out here in this weather—not in his condition. I turn back toward La Playa, which I can see a few hundred feet up the path. As I suspected, the light next to the door is on—the generator has to be running. Even though it’s dim, it’s bright enough for me to be able to see the rest of the pathway to the building and I rush to the door, happy to be on the porch and under the awning, out of the rain.

I have no idea how he made up the ground, but Leo is right behind me. I turn to face him and frown. “What are you doing out of bed?” I’m yelling, but only because of the weather.

He reaches out and brushes my hair away from my face, his hand lingering there for a moment. “Why did you leave?” The volume of his voice is equal to mine, and I can still only barely hear him.

My heart is racing again and the fluttering in my stomach…it’s wrong. He’s an idiot for coming after me—there’s no reason for him to endanger his life like this.

But I can barely hear my voice and this isn’t the place for an argument. I decide not to say anything else to him. Instead, I wring out my hair as much as I can and try to brush the water off my clothes, though it’s really no use. I walk over to the door and enter.

I was expecting a party, but there isn’t one. Maybe it’s later than I thought, but there’s no one in the lobby. I can’t see anyone back in the bar, either.

Leo comes in behind me and I turn. He closes the door and stares at me in silence. He’s still shirtless and I hate myself for admiring his body for the split-second that I do—until I notice his bandage is gone, probably washed away in the storm.

“You’re bleeding.”

He looks me up and down. “You’re missing a shoe, as long as we’re pointing out the obvious.” His gaze meets mine and he smiles. “And I was told wet t-shirt night was not until Tuesday.”

I drop my suitcase at my side and cross my arms over my chest. I’m frowning, but something inside of me…is not. It’s not that I wanted him to come after me—I definitely didn’t. But I guess I’m…I don’t even know what it is. Flattered, maybe. Not about the wet t-shirt thing, but that he’s here at all. That he came after me. I mean, who does that? Guys don’t do that kind of thing—not in this sort of weather. And definitely not for me.

I give him my best exasperated look. “You should be in bed.”

He smiles and lifts a brow. “As should you. It happens that I have a bed at this establishment.”

I shake my head. “No.”

He grins. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

My heart is doing something weird in my chest—some strange combination of fluttering and pounding. I motion to my suitcase. “I don’t have anything dry.” I don’t realize what I’m saying until a few too many seconds have passed, and his smile turns a bit too wolfish. “And I said no.”

“Where will you go? It’s the spring holiday—surely there are no rooms available. My father almost had to issue a royal order for me to have a room. I wonder, Elle, what are you planning to do here?” He motions to one of the benches in the small lobby. “Will you sleep here?”

I narrow my gaze. “My brother lives here—”

“In a room smaller than mine,” he interrupts. “And that’s not to mention the three other beds in his room, which I imagine are also occupied.”

“There’s a dorm for women, too, smart guy. I’m surprised you didn’t request a bed in there, given…“ I stop myself from bringing up his reputation. I’m not even sure why I’m arguing about it with him—a warm bed and dry clothes sound almost heavenly. It shouldn’t really matter who’s offering it to me, but it somehow does.

“Given what?” His smile falls. “Given what, Elle?”

“Nothing.” My eyes trail down to his chest for a second—I’m almost embarrassed to admit I’m as bad as he is with the inappropriate staring. But then I see his gash. “I need to redress your wound.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He pauses. “What were you going to say to me?”

“I…” I press my lips together and look down at the floor before I lift my gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was that you shouldn’t have come after me. You could have died out there.”

“I know. That’s why I came—because you could have died out there.”

My eyes widen, and I have to blink a few times. I take a deep breath—there’s no way this man has come to care enough about me in the short time we’ve known each other to have actually risked his life to come after me. “What do you want from me?”

He winces like I’ve slapped him. His voice lowers. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I am happy you’ve arrived safely here.” He stares at me again, and his expression is devoid of emotion. “I should get back to Matthias.”

“You can’t go back out there.”

“Ask me to stay.”

“I don’t care what you do, Leo.”

He nods. “Fine. Then I’ll be going. Should you see my brother when he arrives later, please do tell him he can find me at the clinic. And if by chance I’m not there—”

“You’re bleeding.” I motion to his wound. “You should at least let me bandage you up before you go.”

He shakes his head. “To what end, Doctor? Another dressing will merely wash away—”

“Duct tape. I know Owen keeps some around. It’ll do the trick until you can get it sewn up by your new employee.” I smile. “And duct tape will hold up in the rain.”

His jaw tightens. “I will not be taped up like some electrical appliance—”

“Kidding.” I smile. “I was kidding.”

He’s still glaring at me—I guess my attempt at humor isn’t working.

“I’m sorry, Leo. I…I don’t want you to go.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up like he’s going to smile, but he doesn’t.

“I want you to stay.”

He stares at me for another long moment. “Ask me.”

My brow furrows. “Ask you what?”

He takes another step toward me. “Ask me to stay.”

“I just did—”

“Ask me.” His eyes are dark, and I’m not sure if it’s desire I’m seeing or something else.

I blow out a long breath—my heart is doing the weird fluttering thing again. “Will you…?” My voice is jittery—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. “Will you stay?”

The corners of his mouth turn up into the smallest of smiles and if it’s possible, it seems like his eyes have gone even darker. “Again.”

I shake my head, mostly trying to stop the shakiness of my voice. “No.”

He takes another step forward and there is almost no distance between us—he’s impossibly close to me without touching me at all. He tips his head down to whisper in my ear. “Ask. Me. Again.”

My knees almost buckle underneath me and my breath is as shaky as the rest of my body. I close my eyes and my head tilts away from him, almost inviting him to kiss my neck. “Please, Leo. Will you stay?”

He lifts a finger to push my still-dripping hair away from my neck and his touch is like fire on my skin. He dips his head again—this time his lips touch the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Again.” He almost breathes the word into me as his arms slide around my waist and he pulls me against his body.

I try not to moan as his lips meet that spot—he seems to know exactly where to touch me to make me bend to his will. My hands find the top of his shoulders before trailing up the back of his neck, one hand tangling in his wet hair.

He lifts his head and tilts it again to whisper into my ear. “Again. I need to hear you ask me again, Elle.” He nips my earlobe before his lips find that magic spot on my neck once more.

“Please.” Heat is coiling around my insides so hard and so fast I think I might explode. I almost moan my words. “Please, Leo. Please.” I want him to take me in his arms—I’ll even carry him up the stairs and to his room. I don’t want to think about the consequences. I just want him.

He pulls his head back for a moment to look into my eyes, and I swear my knees have disappeared—I don’t think I can stand upright anymore. He parts his lips and leans in to kiss me.

I close my eyes and tilt my head to meet his kiss. I’m about to part my lips—I can’t wait to taste him again. I want him. I want…more.

His lips haven’t even met mine—and my eyes flutter open when I hear my brother’s voice.

“Dude, you’re getting blood all over the floor.”

* * *

Leo

Damn these blasted interruptions. I’m beginning to think we’re cursed, Elle and I, considering that every time she begins to open up to me, someone barges in on us.

She’s still against me, but she stiffens at the sound of her brother’s voice. She tries to pull away, but I keep my arms around her waist, holding her captive. This time, I have no intention of letting her leave me. I look over at Owen, but I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused behind those bloodshot eyes.

“Forgive me,” I say. “I’ll certainly pay to have the floor cleaned if that is your concern.”

Owen leans against the wall, smirking as he shakes his head.

“My sis and Mr. Fancy Pants,” he says. “Who’d have seen it coming?”

Elle blushes and tries to pull away again, but I have her firmly in my grasp.

“I was just seeing to his injuries,” she says, wriggling. She glares up at me, but I grin down at her.

“Ah, yes,” I say. “I have a horrible injury in my mouth. She needs to take a much closer look.”

She responds by slamming her foot—the one still in a shoe—down on mine. I yelp and release her.

Owen’s looking from one of us to the other. “Why aren’t you at the clinic, man?”

Elle straightens. “The new doctor has arrived. I thought I might stay here tonight.”

“And I thought I might join her,” I say. “Because of my injury and all.”

Owen’s eyes drop back to my chest, which currently looks pretty terrible.

“That looks even worse than before, dude,” he says. “Want something to take the edge off? Hoover has some sweet—”

“He’s fine,” Elle says. “But I’ll need a room.”

“You know we’re all booked up, sis,” he says. “I mean, there’s space on the floor in the women’s bunk, but Matt is in there with Rachel, and you won’t be getting any sleep until they’re done. The rest of us are in the guys’ bunk—”

“She’ll sleep in my room,” I say.

Elle shoots me another look, but she’s asked me—begged me—to stay with her, and I’m not ashamed of the fact that I want her. I won’t hide it.

Owen shrugs, clearly getting bored.

“Whatever, you guys,” he says. “Just try not to get blood all over everything, okay? It’s a bitch to get out of the sheets, and I don’t want anyone thinking someone got murdered in here or anything. Bad for business.”

“If I have to fly in a professional cleaning team from the other side of the world, I’ll do it. I assure you I will take full responsibility for every drop of blood,” I assure him.

That appears to settle the matter, because he nods and heads back toward the room behind him. He pauses at the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want any of this stash, you two?” he says. “It’s some good shit. And there’s not much else to do on a night like this.”

I can think of several things—most of them involving the woman standing in front of me—but it’s Elle who speaks first.

“We’re fine,” she says. “Goodnight, Owen.”

The moment we’re alone again, she spins on me.

“Why did you do that?” she demands.

“Do what?” I ask, all innocence.

“Refuse to let go of me when my brother came in. And then tell him I’d be staying in your room.”

“I see no reason why we should hide anything from your brother. I understand it might have been less than ideal for Doctor Mitchell to find us as we were, but Owen—”

“Doctor Mitchell!” she says, her eyes going wide. “Shit, we need to tell him where you’ve gone. He’s going to show up at the clinic and freak out.”

“The doctor knows where I’ve gone,” I tell her, stepping close to her again. “He was already there when I left.”

“And he let you walk out?” Her eyebrows rise. “Did you tell him who you were?”

“It may have come out,” I admit. “A pity. I would have liked to play with him a little longer.”

Her mouth curls down into a frown. “What happened? What did you do?”

“I was very persuasive,” I say. “I made it clear that nothing would stop me from going after you.” She’s close enough now that I could take her in my arms again, but I don’t. Not yet.

“If that’s true, then he’s never going to believe we weren’t…” Her eyes cloud. “You’ve confirmed his suspicions about us.”

“Even if he has a problem with either of us,” I counter, “he now realizes I hold his job in my hands. You don’t need to worry about him, Elle.”

I can tell by the look in her eyes that this promise isn’t enough. That her fear goes beyond Doctor Mitchell.

“What is it?” I ask, reaching out and brushing a wet strand of hair back from her temple.

She shivers beneath my touch then shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”

That’s a lie. And though I’d like to press further, I don’t. Instead, I let my fingers slide into her hair. They slip easily through the wet waves, and she lets out a breath that sounds like a sigh.

“I’m not ashamed of my desire for you,” I murmur gently. “We have nothing to hide, Elle.”

Her eyes fall closed, and her long, dark lashes stand out against her cheeks. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Yes, it is easy.” I move my face down toward hers. “And yet it’s hard for you, even though your entire body, your entire being, reacts to me.” My lips are only a breath away from hers, but I stop. “You asked me to stay, Elle. And I intend to stay with you all night.”

Her breath catches. I hear it. Feel it against my lips. Her eyes flutter open.

“I…I need to dress your wound,” she says.

“Then you shall,” I say. “But I suggest we retreat to my room before your brother returns and complains about the blood again.”

She nods, looking a little dazed. “I…I think there’s a first aid kit behind the counter.”

It is torture to move away from her, but I know if we stay here, we’ll only be interrupted again. I release her hair and step back.

She seems just as reluctant to move away. “I have some basic stuff in my bag, but it probably got soaked out there.” She nearly trips over her own feet as she moves behind the counter. She bends over and begins rummaging through the shelves beneath. “I made Owen keep some things here for minor injuries.”

“Mm. That was wise of you.” I bend down and grab her suitcase.

“You shouldn’t be lifting that.”

“I might be bleeding, Elle, but I’m perfectly capable of carrying a suitcase. And doing a number of other physical things as well.”

Her entire face turns a most beguiling shade of scarlet.

“You shouldn’t even be thinking about that,” she says. “Not in your condition.”

“I assure you, Elle, my thoughts are entirely out of my control. And even if they weren’t, I’d have no intention of fighting them. I find them entirely too pleasant.” I hold my hand out for hers. “Shall we, then?”

She hesitates for only the briefest of seconds before placing her hand in mine. My fingers close around hers.

We don’t say a word to each other as we climb the stairs. There’s no need for words anymore. There’s only the creak of the steps beneath our feet and the sounds of the storm overhead.

When we get to my room, she breaks the silence.

“It will be easiest if you lie down,” she says.

I’m not about to object to that. I set her suitcase by the door and go over to the bed, sinking onto the mattress.

I watch her as she unpacks the little first aid kit. Watch the waves of her damp hair fall over her shoulders as she bends over the supplies. Watch her chest rise and fall beneath a shirt that clings deliciously to her skin. Watch her suck her bottom lip into her mouth.

When she looks up at me, I catch her gaze in mine. The blood rushes to her face, but she doesn’t look away as she comes over to me. She sits on the edge of the mattress next to me, her eyes still locked on mine, and energy crackles between us. For a moment I think she’s going to bend down and kiss me—I nearly reach up and pull her face down to mine—but then her gaze shifts to the wound on my chest.

She doesn’t say anything as she begins to dab gently at the gash. The pressure makes my wound sting, but her hands are soft and move with a delicacy that is a wonder to experience. I remember my first day here when I saw her tend to that child, how I marveled at the skill and gentleness of her touch. Feeling her use that touch on me is an exquisite sort of torture.

Part of me wants to watch her work. Another part of me wants to feel her. After a moment, I close my eyes and do just that—close out everything but the feeling of her hands on me.

She was gentle and capable when she treated me upon my initial arrival at the clinic earlier this evening. But something has changed between us in the hours since, and it’s clear with her every touch. There’s something much more profound, much more intimate, about the way she touches me now.

Need surges through my body, but I don’t move. Don’t open my eyes. I let her work, let her cross the physical lines in her own way. At her own pace.

She puts something on the wound that burns. I stiffen, then relax under her touch again. Even pain is pleasurable at her hand.

By the time she begins placing gauze on the cut, my desire is all but unbearable. I grip the sheets on either side of me to keep from reaching up and grabbing her. Her hand stills.

“Am I hurting you?” she asks, her voice so soft I can hardly hear it above the rain.

My eyes open. “Not in the way you think.”

I know my hunger is plain on my face. But I keep my hands on the sheets, waiting for her.

Her gaze drops back to my chest. She doesn’t say anything, just resumes her task.

Long, torturous seconds tick by as she continues her work. She doesn’t seem to move with any particular urgency—and she never turns her eyes back to my face—but I can see the quick little beat of her pulse at her throat. The air between us is hotter and thicker than it was even a moment ago. My cock is throbbing in my pants, aching with need, but I use what remains of my strength to restrain myself.

And then she finishes covering my wound, and my entire body seems to throb in anticipation.

She still doesn’t look at me. She sets the remains of her supplies aside, but her eyes remain fixed on my chest. On the bandage. She even reaches out and runs a couple of fingers along the edge of it, as if ensuring she affixed it properly. We both know it isn’t necessary for her to check, that she’d never make a mistake on something as simple as this, but I stay as I am, waiting.

After an agonizingly long moment, her fingers slip off the bandage and onto the bare skin of my chest. She moves slowly, almost as if she’s afraid, and for that reason, I continue to remain still.

Her fingers drift across my chest. Her touch is so light that under different circumstances, it might have tickled. But here, now, it’s the sweetest sort of agony. Every brush of her skin against mine sends a jolt of sensation through me. A couple more seconds of this, and we’ll have crossed the point of no return. There will be no controlling what I do.

It’s never been like this. Not with any woman. We’ve hardly begun, done little more than kiss. And yet my body is reacting to Elle with a ferocity I’ve never experienced before. Elle is not a woman to have once and then forget—she’s the sort of woman who will burn through me forever. If I have her, even once, I have a feeling there will be no going back.

It’s a terrifying, sobering thought. For a moment, anyway. Then she spreads her fingers, flattening her entire palm against my skin, and I forget everything but the new rush of heat that swells through me.

Before I’ve even realized I’ve moved, my hand is around her wrist.

“This is your last chance to stop this,” I say, and my voice is so ragged I hardly recognize it. “Otherwise, I won’t be held responsible for what I do.”

* * *

Elle

It’s like my hands have a mind of their own—I can’t seem to stop myself from touching him. I don’t think I’m breathing. I am definitely unable to form a coherent thought.

Until he grabs my wrist and I look down at his hand. I barely even hear what he’s saying, my pulse is thrashing so loudly in my ears.

But his hand—I have to blink a few times to break myself out of this trance I’ve been in, somehow hypnotized by his charms.

I twist my arm from his grasp and take his hand in mine¸ lifting it to get a closer view. “What is this?”

His breath is still ragged—I think he might have been almost as caught up in the moment as I was. “What?”

“This.” I tilt my head toward the wounds I now see on his hand. I stare at the cuts, recognizing the familiar pattern of abrasions on his knuckles. “I know what this is.”

He pulls his hand from mine and lifts himself onto his elbows. Moving must still be painful for him, and he tries to cover a grimace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Elle.”

“You punched someone. I’m guessing it was the doctor.”

His mouth opens, and then he snaps it closed just as quickly. He shakes his head for a moment before sitting himself all the way up. “Elle…” He looks into my eyes. “I—”

“Why? Why would you punch him?”

His eyes dart around the room for a moment before returning to mine. “The things he was saying about you…” He gazes at me for a long moment. “And he refused to take them back. If he would have agreed—”

I interrupt with a stern shake of my head. “You’re defending my honor? Really?” My jaw tightens. “I don’t need anyone to protect me.”

“I merely—”

I stand, interrupting him again. “He’s a great physician—a scientist. He invented a medication a few years ago that saved thousands of lives. Your family was lucky to get him to come here—he’ll do a lot of good for the people who live in Rio de Campo.” My breaths are coming too rapidly again—I’m not even sure why this time. “He’s…he’s a good choice. For this place. He’ll do a lot of good work here.” Tears sting at my eyes and I force myself to blink them back.

“Elle.” His forehead has creased and I can see the concern in his expression. He probably thinks I’m crazy, and he’s not too far off. “From what know of you—”

“But you don’t know me.” I smile, but my eyes have gone all watery again. “That’s just it—you don’t know me at all. You…you waltz in here and do the whole Prince Charming thing on me, just like you do to everyone—”

“I do not do that to everyone.” His gaze narrows. “Elle—”

“No. That’s who you are, right? You’re the bad boy prince. The pretty boy who uses the girls—”

“You think I’m pretty?” He grins. “Pretty?” He presses his lips into a line, but I still see the grin twinkling in his eyes. “Elle, I can assure you I’m much more than a pretty face. You have cold feet because of who I am. You’re not the first—”

“I know! And that’s the other thing about you.” My eyes widen. “I’m not the first. I won’t be the last. I’ll be another one of your—what did you call them? Fond encounters? You know how this ends, right?”

He lifts a brow and the smile returns to his lips. “I dare say that I do. It ends with two very satisfied people—”

“It ends with me wanting to…” I bite my lip to stop myself from crying. I can’t do this to myself again. I can’t let him in—under my skin. I’ve already let this get too far out of control.

I turn away, trying to hide the sudden wave of emotion I’m feeling. I walk over to where he’s set my suitcase and pick it up. I suck in a breath before I turn back to him. “Women are a drug to you. Like heroin.”

His brow furrows. “I don’t follow.”

“This—you and I—will be great for about twenty minutes.” I force a smile, but I have no doubt he can see it’s fake. “And then you’ll have gotten what you wanted. Whatever it is you think you need—your next hit of your drug. But I’ll be used up after that and you’ll go down the hall to find the next thing to satisfy you.”

He rolls his eyes. “That isn’t true.”

“It is. And when I become an inconvenience, it won’t matter that I’m a person. That I have feelings and a life and ambitions of my own or that I’ve fallen in love with you. It will only matter that you’re more important than me—that I’m expendable. That you’ve been at this hospital for twenty years and are an integral member of the community and that I should have shown better judgment.” My mouth falls open and I gasp as I realize what I’ve said. I quickly turn on my heel and walk over to the door. Heat rises in my cheeks again—my face is practically on fire and my mouth is still hanging open. I stare at the door, tears filling my eyes. I grasp the doorknob.

Did I say that out loud? Did I really say that out loud? Maybe I didn’t—I’ve had those words on repeat in my head for a year, so it’s possible… No. I said it all out loud.

“Elle?” He groans and I know he’s trying to get off the bed. “Don’t go.”

I only hesitate for a second, but it’s long enough for him to cross the small room.

I can feel him standing behind me—he’s close enough that I can almost feel his breath on my neck.

“Elle.”

“I’m…I’m…” I can’t seem to find enough air to speak.

“Elle.”

My bottom lip is trembling and I know I’m about to lose it—right in front of him. A man who doesn’t know me at all, and after this little episode, won’t ever want to know me. And why would he, anyway? This is my thing—this is what I do. I fall for men who are unobtainable. Men who can’t commit—men who use women.

Not this time. That was why I came here, right? To get myself out of my same old pattern. To prove to myself I can stand on my own two feet—even if one of them is still currently shoeless.

I was stupid for even considering it might be different this time. How Leo might somehow be something real. But he isn’t. Everything that’s happening is only a stupid fairy tale I’ve made up in my head. This is the same situation as a year ago, just on a shitload of steroids—an unbelievable, supersized fantasy. And what would happen if I let myself sleep with Leo? He’s right—we would both enjoy it. But I’d let myself get hooked into thinking it was possible there was really something more than a one- or two-night stand in it for me.

If I don’t stop this now, I’m doomed to repeat the same mistakes again. To relive my past one more time.

I draw in a long breath and straighten my shoulders before I turn to face him. I lift my chin. “I’m sorry, Leo. For leading you to believe there was anything more than a doctor-patient relationship here. Or employee-employer. Whatever you want to call it.”

“What you said a moment ago—”

“Wasn’t meant for you. I…I’m not in love with you. That would be ridiculous.” I tighten my jaw. “We just met. I obviously was… I was—”

“Talking about someone else. Yes, that was perfectly clear.”

We stand there in silence for too long. I draw in another breath to try to speak. “I should go.”

“No. You shouldn’t.”

I nod. “I’m sure whatever was going on in the women’s dorm is over by now. I’ll go down there and see if I can find a spot on the floor. Maybe I’ll see you in the morning—”

He grabs my wrist, interrupting me. “You want me to stay with you tonight. You said so. Several times. You begged me—”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, that was stupid. That was me being, you know, a dumb girl.” I give him a weak smile. “And I’m not.” I pause for a second. “A dumb girl.”

He looks into my eyes for a long moment. “I don’t think you’re dumb. Or a girl.”

“I—”

“You’re very much a woman, Elle. A beautiful, intelligent, striking woman. One unlike any I’ve ever met.”

“You’re only saying that to get in my pants. I’m not stupid, Leo.”

He smiles. “I believe I acknowledged that fact. The part about you not being stupid, though I will admit there may be truth to the former accusation, as well.”

I have to hold back a laugh. “You’re charming. I’ll give you that. But…” I wrench my wrist from his grasp. “I’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight. Down the hall.”

“Must I really remind you of my head injury and how you insisted upon monitoring me all night, Doctor?”

“Well, let’s see. Tonight, you managed to punch a doctor who two years ago was a finalist for the Nobel Prize in medicine. You somehow made it through the storm outside to follow me here. And…” I lift my suitcase up a few inches for show. “You carried my bag up the stairs. I’d say you’ve more than proved you’re fine to spend the night alone.”

“But, my head. And my wound…” He laces his hands together to hold the bandaged area on his torso. “I may need this dressing changed again shortly.”

I point to the pile of first aid supplies I left on his dresser. “Everything you need is right there. I taught Owen first aid, so if you need help with the tape or something…”

“Oh, Owen.” His voice drips with sarcasm as he speaks my brother’s name. “Perhaps I should join him and his bunkmates in—what do they call it? Smoking a bowl?”

I nod. “It might help with the pain you’re having. Just don’t overdo it.”

His mouth falls open. “You’re actually suggesting I take part in the use of marijuana? With your brother?”

I shrug. “We really don’t have many better options for pain medication around here. So do what you need to do.”

He stares at me before pulling my hand into his. “Don’t go.”

I lift a brow. “Ask me.”

His lips curl into a slow smile. “Elle, don’t go.”

“Mm.” I shake my head and try to hide my smile. “That didn’t sound like a question.”

He licks his lips and presses them together before making a popping sound. “Please don’t go.”

“No.” I shake my head again. “Still not a question.”

He doesn’t say anything—he looks like he can’t decide whether to be amused or frustrated. Maybe he’s feeling a bit of both. “I know what you’re doing.”

I blink my eyes a few times, feigning innocence. “Do you?”

He nods. “You want me to beg you.”

I blink a few more times. “Why would I do that?”

“You want me.”

“Do I?” I tilt my head. “I believe I told you I was going to be sleeping on the floor. I am, however, willing to entertain the idea of sleeping on this floor.” I motion toward the middle of the room. “But I still haven’t heard you ask.”

He lifts his chin and stares at me before he speaks. “Elle, will you please stay with me tonight?”

“Hm.” I tilt my head again. “Ask me again.”

He clenches his jaw a bit, but I think I see the tiniest of smiles. His words are more drawn out this time. “Will you please stay with me tonight?”

“Again.”

His gaze narrows and he lets out a low growl. He presses a hand against the door, right next to my head. He stares at me for a long time before he speaks through clenched teeth. “Please stay.”

“Okay.” I smile and duck under his arm. I walk into the middle of the room, dropping my suitcase before I turn back to face him. “But I am sleeping on the floor.”

His hand clenches into a fist before he turns slowly to face me. “You are not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well, if you’d like to give up the bed, I won’t argue with you.”

He stares at me in silence.

“Is that a yes?”

He shakes his head and walks back over to the bed. I turn to watch him maneuver himself as he lifts his legs slowly up and onto the mattress. He lies back with a low moan I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear.

He closes his eyes and extends an arm across the other side of the bed. “If you would like to join me, I can assure you I’m in no mood nor any physical condition to require anything but your presence at this particular moment.”

I freeze. It takes me a moment to realize I’m not only frozen in place, but I’m also actually freezing cold. I clear my throat. “Leo?”

“Yes?” He doesn’t open his eyes or even turn his head in my direction.

“Can I ask you a stupid question?”

“My instructors at school always told me there is no such thing as a stupid question.”

“I guess you didn’t go to school where I did.”

He smiles but still doesn’t open his eyes. “Ask me anything you like.”

“Can I borrow a shirt? Something dry?”

He barely turns his head before he opens one eye about half-way to look at me. “Be my guest. Shirts are in the second drawer.”

I nod and walk over to the dresser. I pull out a t-shirt, one I’m sure he normally wears under his dress shirts, and I turn back to him. “Close your eyes.”

He smiles and his eyes flutter closed.

I turn around so my back is facing him and strip off my soaking wet clothes—everything except my panties. I pull the dry shirt over my head and cross my arms over my chest before turning around to face him.

His eyelids flutter again.

“You were watching me.”

He shakes his head. “I would never do such a thing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” I walk over to the opposite side of the bed and sit down. “What I said before, Leo—”

“We don’t need to discuss it tonight, Elle.” He opens his eyes and looks up at me. “I would very much like to hold you now.” He pauses for a moment. “If you don’t mind.”

My heart flutters in my chest and I know I’m about to make another huge mistake. And at least for the moment, I find I don’t mind at all.

* * *

Leo

She’s so warm and soft next to me. I was a fool to think it would be possible to lie next to her and not need more, even in my current condition. Just the pressure of her against me—wearing my shirt, no less—is enough to set my blood on fire. But I gave her my word I would try nothing tonight, and I do not intend to betray her trust.

Even if the effort will likely kill me.

She’s nestled against my side with one hand on my chest. I’m acutely aware of every single one of her fingers. Of every strand of her damp hair that has fallen across my bare skin. Of her warm breath tickling me just below my collarbone as she breathes slowly in and out.

When she initially climbed into bed with me, she was stiff. Awkward. She must have been afraid I would attempt to seduce her the moment she was within reach. And though I ached to do just that, I restrained myself, and little by little, she relaxed. She must have been completely exhausted because not a moment after she finally let herself lean against me, she was fast asleep.

I’m exhausted, too—God knows what hour it is, and this has been a particularly eventful night—but sleep is far away. I know I should try and get some rest, but there are too many things on my mind. And she’s too distracting, wrapped around me as she is.

I let my hand drift up her back—gently, so as not to wake her. She’s moved closer to me in her sleep. Perhaps she’s only seeking warmth, but the way her body has molded against mine makes me think otherwise. We’re drawn to each other. There’s no denying it. And while she might resist that desire while she’s awake—for reasons I’m starting to understand—in sleep, she has no such reservations.

But you can’t have her, I remind myself. Not tonight. Even if the soft touch of her fingers against my chest sends a fresh wave of need coursing through my entire body. Even if the smell of her completely intoxicates me. Even if the way her leg has hooked over mine makes my cock throb.

If she were awake—and if I hadn’t given my word—I’d let my hand on her back drift all the way down to the curve of her ass. I want to feel the shape of it with my fingers. Is it soft or firm? I’m not sure which would delight me more. And would she moan when my fingers dug into her flesh? Or would she whimper?

Next, I’d slide my hand back up her spine, following the line of her body all the way up to the back of her neck. I’d tangle my fingers in her hair and tug her head back so I could capture her lips in mine while my other hand slipped up her front. I would curl my fingers around her breast, feel the weight of it in my palm. Tease her nipple into a hard bud.

When she was panting and moaning against me, I’d slide my leg over hers and push her down onto her back. Then, when she was beneath me, I’d take my time exploring her piece by piece. I’d slide that shirt up her body and lick my way up to her throat and back down again, finally burying my face between her legs. She’d writhe beneath me. Grip my hair and cry out my name. More than anything, that’s what I want—to watch her finally give herself over to the hunger.

I squeeze my eyes shut. What am I doing? Why am I thinking about this? I want her so badly I’m in physical pain, and these thoughts aren’t helping.

Think about something non-sexual, I tell myself. Think about that time you accidentally walked in on your grandfather in the bath. Think about how much that vile Dr. Mitchell disgusts you. Think about how you’re going to handle your brother when he gets here.

It’s that last thought that sobers me. Part of me still hopes Matthias was mistaken about Andrew coming here—or even that I hallucinated the entire thing due to my head injury. But in my gut, I know it’s real, and I won’t be able to avoid talking to Andrew much longer.

We’ve hardly spoken since that night. It was easy enough to avoid each other—there were always duties to be done or distractions to be had. And when you have a private jet at your disposal, escaping to another country is as simple as making a call.

I can’t say whether it’s guilt or resentment that has kept us apart—for either of us. I took the fall for his error in judgment. That can’t be denied. But it was I who put Andrew in that situation in the first place. I who encouraged him to forgo his responsibilities. I who led him right into the devil’s den.

The world knows me as the troublemaker, the womanizer, the bad boy of the royal family. My younger siblings—William, Nicholas, and Sophia—still have time to decide who they will be in the eyes of the public, but my older brother has never had the chance or the choice. He’s the heir, which means he must be responsible. Must be dutiful. Must have a spotless record. And not just to the citizens of Montovia, or even the rest of the world—but within our family as well. Our father will not allow him to set a foot out of line.

Elle shifts against me and murmurs something in her sleep. I spread my hand against her back and pull her closer to me. My father, my brothers, and the rest of the world seem so far away. I just want to be here and relish the feeling of having this woman in my arms. Get drunk on the scent of her. Bury myself deep inside of her…

No. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Not right now. I gave her my word.

I despise the man who did this to her, who betrayed her trust in a way that makes her fearful of what she and I have between us. She said she loved him. And he made her feel expendable. Made her feel like she was the one exercising poor judgment when it clearly must have been the other way around. Any man who would say such things to this woman, who would throw aside her desire and love for any reason, is a fool.

Be careful, I tell myself. I’m getting dangerously close to having something akin to feelings for Elle. Physical desire is simple. Interest and affection can be simple, too. But feelings are something else altogether. Something too complicated for what is already a rather complicated relationship.

Still, something softens in me when I look down at her. Something unfurls and swells inside me when she shifts and murmurs against me. The soft, accidental brush of her lips on my skin produces more than a purely physical reaction—and though that physical rush of need is nearly unbearable, it’s the rest that threatens to undo me.

She’s right, you know, I tell myself. You hardly know each other. There’s no reason for me to have a reaction like this to a woman I met only a handful of days ago. And yet here I am, wondering about the bastard who broke her heart. Punching doctors for her. Lying awake after the world’s longest day because I can’t seem to stop thinking about her. My thoughts may drift, but they always come back to her. Elle. This is foolish.

I slide my fingers up her back, allowing myself that much. I should have listened to her when she first tried to push me away. It would have made things far simpler. I should have done my duty and nothing more. Returned home and resumed my normal life. Instead, I’ve made a right proper mess. All because I couldn’t refuse my cock.

Elle moves again, her leg shifting across mine and her fingers twitching against my chest. A moment later, I sense her wake. For a short while, she doesn’t move, but I know the exact moment she remembers where she is because she stiffens in my arms.

I don’t move. I wait breathlessly for her to pull away, even though I want nothing more than to tug her face up to mine and kiss her dizzy. After a couple of long seconds, her body relaxes again. She stays where she is against me.

“You’re awake,” she whispers.

“I can’t sleep,” I tell her honestly.

“You should try,” she says. “You need to rest.”

“I am resting. Just not sleeping.”

“You know what I mean.”

I do, but that won’t make sleep come any easier. Especially not now that she’s awake.

“Did you pull me closer to you?” she asks quietly after a moment.

“You pulled yourself closer to me,” I tell her. “I merely did nothing to discourage it.”

She spreads her palm flat on my chest. “I should go back to my side of the bed.”

“If that is your wish, I will not stop you.” Even if every cell in my body cries out against the idea. “But I told you I would do nothing more than sleep with you in my arms, and I intend to keep my word.”

“You aren’t sleeping,” she points out. But neither does she move away from me.

“Tell me then, Doctor,” I say, “what do you recommend to your patients who are having trouble sleeping?”

“That’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

I smile. “Humor me, then.”

She lets out a breathy sound that might have been a laugh if she weren’t still groggy with sleep. “Have you tried counting sheep?”

“That sounds remarkably dull.”

“That’s the idea.” Her cheek shifts against me. “Or you can count the raindrops falling on the roof.”

The storm has quieted somewhat—the thunder has subsided, at least—but the rain is still pouring overhead.

“That would be an impossible task,” I tell her.

“Again, that’s the idea. To keep your mind focused on something boring and repetitive so other thoughts won’t keep you awake.” Her breath hitches, almost as if she means to go on but thinks better of it at the last minute.

She’s purposefully avoiding asking me what is keeping me awake. I’m certain, though, that she could make a fairly accurate guess. Perhaps she can even feel the answer in the tension of my body. Why, if she let her hand on my chest drift downward, she’d soon stumble across a part of me that would leave her with very few doubts on the matter. That thought sends a new throb of longing through me.

But she doesn’t ask. And her fingers don’t move.

“You could try breathing deeply, then,” she says after a moment. “Close your eyes and focus on letting the air go in and out.”

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I decide to try anyway. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air. Her body moves with me as my chest expands.

It’s a simple thing, breathing. And yet I like the way she rises and falls with me, like the way we’re molded together so closely that we seem to move and breathe as one being. It’s more intimate than I could have imagined. And after a time, I realize her breath against my skin is moving in and out in time with mine.

My free hand moves up from the bed and rests gently on top of her hand on my chest. My fingers curl around hers. I ache to do more, so much more, but instead I keep breathing deeply.

In and out. In and out.

A short while later I sense her drift off to sleep again.

In and out.

My body is starting to feel heavy. My mind has stopped racing.

In and out.

I still want her. Hunger for her. If she woke and told me she needed me, I’d have no trouble rising to the task. But the desire is being slowly overtaken by my exhaustion.

In and out.

She’s so warm. So soft. So perfect. So…

In and out.

I’m not sure when I succumb to sleep. But I must sleep deeply because the next thing I’m aware of is a loud pounding on my door. And when I open my eyes, bright sunlight is creeping in around the shutters on the window.

The pounding sounds again, and I feel it in my skull. Elle grumbles a sound of protest and buries her face deeper against my shoulder. Elle. She’s still here, still in my arms, even though it appears to be morning.

What time is it? I fumble around on the bedside table for my mobile, then remember it must still be in my pocket.

“Your Highness!” comes a voice at the door. Matthias. “Your Highness, are you in there?”

I want to order him to go away. To leave Elle and me to some much-needed sleep. My fingers find my mobile in my pocket, and I pull it out.

“Your Highness!” Matthias says again, and there’s an edge of worry to his voice. “Your Highness, please!”

“I’m coming,” I finally call back. Blast him.

I rub my eyes and force myself to sit up. Elle is still clinging to me, but her eyes flutter open as I shift into an upright position.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her softly. My God, she looks beautiful. Her eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep, and her hair is a halo of messy waves around her face. I want to kiss her fully awake—and then push her back on the pillows and do much, much more.

“Your Highness,” Matthias says again. “I thought you should know—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I say, swinging my feet off the bed with a sigh. The wound on my chest pulses with a dull ache. I lift my mobile and look down at the time on the screen.

Christ. It’s nearly noon. Though after the long night Elle and I had, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised we slept so late.

I stumble across the room to the door and open it.

“Yes, Matthias?” I say, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” he says. “I didn’t realize you were still sleeping.”

“I’m awake now,” I say. Though I’d rather not be. “Did you need something?”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I remember the things Matthias said last night, and my chest tightens even before he gets the words out.

“Your brother’s jet has landed,” he tells me. “He should be here within the hour.”

* * *

Elle

Leo closes the door but doesn’t turn back to face me. Instead, he closes his eyes and tips his forehead against the frame, resting it there.

I still have no idea what is going on between Leo and his brother, only that it seems to be something much more than sibling rivalry.

He turns to me with a forced smile. “An hour is a long time, Elle.”

Something isn’t right, but whatever it is, I can’t read it in his expression. I return his smile. “I believe Matthias said within the hour. That doesn’t mean there’s an entire hour.”

He stares at me with the phony grin, but I can tell he’s only barely able to keep it plastered there. “Elle—”

“You were a perfect gentleman last night. I want you to know how much I appreciate that.” I sit up and swing my legs off the side of the bed before I cross my arms over my chest. I force my own smile—this is the weirdest, most awkward morning after I’ve ever had, particularly since we didn’t actually do anything. “I appreciate that you kept your promise.”

A more genuine smile forms on his lips. “And my promise to you only extended through the morning. Since it’s now nearly noon—”

“Noon?” Shit. I stand, still holding an arm over my very exposed chest—it’s not just that the t-shirt I’m wearing is sheer, it’s also about three sizes too big for me and the v-neck would extend well past my breasts if I didn’t have the thing hiked up around my throat.

“You have somewhere else to be?”

My brows knit together. I’m not sure why I think it will piss him off if he knows what my plans are for today, but considering everything that’s happened—fuck, especially now that he slept with me without sleeping with me—I’m sure he isn’t going to be happy. “I need to find some clothes.”

He nods. “I can send Matthias out to find you something—”

I hold up my hand to interrupt. “Not necessary. I can take care of myself.”

He looks me up and down, the grin returning to his lips. “As you wish. Of course, clothing is always optional—”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence before the lock clicks, and his door opens.

Owen is staring at the floor, his ring of keys in his hand. He doesn’t look into the room—he only stares sheepishly at the floor. “Sorry, dudes.”

A tall man edges around him and walks into the room, and I know immediately who he is. Prince Andrew. He and Leo could pass for twins except Andrew’s hair is a bit darker. And there’s something more…regal about Andrew—the way he holds himself, I guess. Leo is confident to the point of being cocky, but Andrew… He carries an air of nobility about him that Leo does not.

Andrew glances at me before he turns to Leo. His lip curls into something that isn’t quite a sneer—it’s more like a look of supreme disapproval. “Desperate times calling for desperate measures, I see.”

My eyebrows rise at the insult and I stand to gather my things from the floor. I pick up my wet pile of clothes and hold it against my chest, almost like armor. I don’t even look at the two men as I rush over to grab my suitcase.

My shoulder brushes against Andrew’s back as I’m leaving and he bristles. My heart is thrashing in my chest and my cheeks are on fire—I don’t even know where I’m going to go. I only know I need to get out of here.

“Elle…” Leo calls my name, but I don’t stop to turn back to him.

“Later, Leo.” I mutter the words under my breath, and I’m not even sure if he can hear them.

Andrew clucks his tongue. “You’re so desperate you’ve taken up with another American?” I can hear the sarcasm dripping in the word. “I thought you told me you were done with them, Brother. Didn’t you say you were only sleeping with French girls from now on?”

I don’t stay to hear the answer. I make it through the door and rush down the stairs.

Owen is standing in the doorway of his room at the end of the long hall and he turns to let me through.

Thank God the place is deserted now except for my brother. I drop my things on the floor and kneel to open my suitcase.

The door closes with a click, and I turn to look up at Owen. He only lifts his eyebrows and doesn’t say a word.

I unzip my cheap, fabric suitcase and pull out the sopping mess of what I threw in there last night. Fuck, was that only last night? It seems like it was weeks ago. Too much is happening and it’s all happening too quickly. It’s exactly like before—like I’m reliving it all again. And I know what I need to do—I need to get the fuck out of here before it’s too late.

“The clothes dryer, Owen. Did you get it fixed?”

Owen edges around me to sit on the end of the bed. “Power’s still out, dude. The generator only runs the lights.”

“Shit.” Everything in my suitcase is soaked—the books and magazines I threw in there last night in some passive-aggressive attempt to make Dr. Mitchell miserable have basically disintegrated, and there is a wet goo all over everything.

I fish out my wallet and check to make sure my passport is still in there—it’s damp but still intact. I chuck it and my wallet onto the bed next to Owen. Everything else is pretty much ruined and not even worth my time.

I shove the suitcase away and plop down on the floor, drawing my knees up to my chest. I pull the huge t-shirt over my legs and bury my head in my lap for a second. I take a few long, slow breaths—I have to calm down to be able to figure this out. There’s a way out of this—I know there is. But I have to get my act together to figure out what it is.

“Dude, there’s a lost and found—the girls always leave shit behind when they go home.”

I smile into my lap before lifting my gaze to meet my brother’s. “You are a genius, Owen.”

He winks at me and extends a hand, pulling me up. I pick up my things from the bed and we walk out of the small men’s dorm. He leads me into the laundry room and pulls a box from beneath a table, motioning to it. “It’s all yours. Glad we kept that stuff around now.”

I nod and begin rummaging through the box for anything semi-decent.

“Elle…”

I don’t even look up at him—I know what he’s going to say. “Owen, don’t.”

He doesn’t take the hint. “The new guy—I recognized him, didn’t I?”

“Owen.” There’s a definite warning in my voice this time. I know he means well, but he doesn’t need to get in the middle of this—whatever this is.

He pretends he doesn’t hear me. “He’s the prince guy—one of the rafting guides last summer had a poster of him above her bed. It was super weird fucking a girl who had a poster—”

I stop what I’m doing and put my hands over my ears. “La, la, la, la, la…” I wait until he’s done talking, and I go back to looking through the discarded clothing. I pull out a pair of shorts I think will fit and a t-shirt that isn’t too disgusting. There’s also a pair of flip-flops that are only a half-size too small and a bikini top that can serve as a bra. Nothing in the box seems all that clean, but it will do. At least it isn’t wet.

Owen swings himself onto the non-functioning dryer next to where I’m standing and sits. “What are you doing, Elle?”

I turn my gaze to his. “I’m finding something to wear home that isn’t going to be too embarrassing.”

“I mean with the guy.”

“Not talking about this with you, Owen.” I pull the shorts on before I turn my back to him, fastening the bikini top under my shirt and pulling it on before I remove the shirt Leo loaned me. I turn back to him and finish dressing. “I can handle it.”

He tilts his head. “You sure? Because it seems an awful lot like last time—”

“We’re going home. Today. Your friend better not have destroyed my house. And you should give him a heads-up that we’re on our way back.”

“Elle, I smoke a lot of weed.”

“No shit, Owen.” I roll my eyes. “We’ll get your surfboards out of storage when we get home and at least you’ll have something to do when we get there—”

He interrupts with a shake of his head. He reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. “Let me finish. I smoke a lot of weed, but I’m not blind. You’re into that guy. Prince Fancy Pants.”

“Makes no difference. I’m over it.” I smile. “You should get your things—”

“Dude.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going.”

I have to blink a few times. “What?”

He shakes his head again and slides off the dryer. “Patrick—his dad owns this place. We’re going to expand.”

“Oh.” I nod. “Expand into what, exactly?”

“Patrick—that dude has vision. We’re going to make this a destination for rich doctor-types who think they want ‘adventure’ vacations.” He makes air quotes with his fingers. “You know those kinds of guys. Your kinds of guys. No offense.”

“None taken. So, let me get this straight. You’re going to turn this place into a real resort. For people who want an adventure vacation. This place.”

“Yeah.” His eyes widen and he nods. “Exactly.”

“And Patrick’s father is going to fund this?”

“Totally. And they asked me to run it—they said La Playa has made more money in the year I’ve been here than it has since it opened. Can you believe that?”

“That’s pretty impressive, Owen.” I swallow hard to cover my disappointment, but I don’t have time to dwell on this. I can be sad later about my brother staying here. “Will you at least let your friend know he needs to get out of my house?”

“Yeah, sure. My phone’s dead, but when the power comes back on, I’ll give him a call.”

“And I swear to God, if there’s any damage—”

“I’ll cover it. I said I would, but the dude’s cool. He’s out in the water all day, anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s not the days I’m worried about.” I still can’t believe I let Owen talk me into letting his friend housesit for me. If he’s anything like Owen, I’ll be lucky if the place hasn’t burned to the ground.

“So, the prince guy—”

“Don’t.”

“Was he on your list or something? Those lists girls keep of celebrities they want to fuck? Because this is all pretty fucking weird, even for you. I mean, I know you like your older guys and everything—”

“Leo is not older.” My voice drops. “Not like that. Not like last time.”

He nods. “But he’s a prince. I mean, can I tell people my sister fucked a prince?”

Heat burns in my cheeks and I can only imagine how many different shades of red I’ve turned. “Owen, I did not fuck anyone—”

“Okay, fine. Made love—whatever. Can I tell people? Because you totally should.”

I shake my head and decide to change the subject again. “Turn around.”

His brows knit together for a second before he remembers the cut on his shoulder when I motion toward it. He turns his back to me and lifts his shirt over his head.

I only have to glance at his sutures—his wound is so red, it’s impossible not to see it’s becoming infected. “Owen, dammit, I told you to stay out of the water.”

He shrugs and pulls his shirt back down before he turns back to face me. “I’ll have Rachel put some antibiotic ointment on it later.” He grins. “When she’s done with Matt.”

I roll my eyes. “The stitches need to come out in seven days. And go to the hospital if you start running a fever. And I can tell you right now, you’re going to have to get on the bus and go to the actual hospital if you need any more medical attention.”

I take in a deep breath, trying to calm my sudden realization of the time. “The bus. Is it running today?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. You know how that thing is—it’s not like it takes a rainstorm to get it delayed or whatever.”

“Does it still come at one?”

He nods and his brow furrows. “You’re not actually leaving, though, right? I mean, your prince is still here—his room’s booked till the end of next week.”

I glance behind me. “Yeah, well, he’s not my prince. And he can find some other desperate measure.” I turn back to my brother and place a hand on his shoulder. “Your sister dodged a huge bullet. Remind me to make men be gentlemen once in awhile—things seem to work out better that way.”

His brows knit together again—I know he doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but it doesn’t matter. I drop my hand from his shoulder and turn to grab my wallet and passport from where I set them before I turn back to Owen. “Thanks for the clothes.”

He shrugs. “Thanks for the stitches.”

I smile and turn to the door.

“Hey, Elle.”

“Yeah?” I turn back to face him.

“You’re more than a desperate measure, you know.”

I blink back the tears that spring to my eyes at his unexpected remark. “Thanks, Owen.”

He shrugs and edges around me as he walks through the doorway. He turns back to face me again. “You want a little something before you go? Makes the bus ride easier.”

I smile and shake my head. “No. But thanks.”

He grins and walks down the hall, back into the lobby.

I rush through the lobby—the two princes don’t seem to be here. I’m not sure if they’re up in Leo’s room or if they left for the clinic to make their new celebrity employee feel welcome. Leo sure has fucked that up—if he had given me two seconds, I could have introduced Dr. Mitchell properly. But it doesn’t matter now. The new doctor is a total douchebag, but he’s a gifted physician and it makes the guilt of leaving a bit less for me, knowing the children here will be in good hands. And if the people of Montovia are lucky, maybe he’ll find a cure for whatever is making the kids sick.

I walk down the street to the bus stop and I’m relieved to see the bus is still there.

I pull out a few coins and go to the window to buy my ticket before I board. I’ve been on this bus once before, so I know what Owen was talking about when he offered me the weed. The roads are terrible and the conditions inside are less than ideal. There are several chickens in the aisle and a couple of people have brought goats to sell at the markets in Santa Rosa.

I find a seat alone near the back and wait. My heart is beating a little too fast and I can’t take my eyes off the door. I’m telling myself it’s because I don’t want to see Leo board—that I don’t want him to come after me.

But I know I’m lying to myself. My heart is racing because I’m hoping he will. That he’ll try to stop me from leaving. I have no idea what the point of that would be, but I can’t help but almost wish…

This is stupid. Even if he does show up, I still have to leave. There’s nothing left here for me—and no rooms at the resort. And after the thing with his brother, I’m not sure why I even want to see him again. But I can’t deny the attraction any longer, even if I am only some desperate distraction for him.

I don’t have to worry about it for long. The door of the bus closes and we pull away.

I glance out the window behind me, my heart fluttering for a moment…hoping. But he isn’t there. He’s not coming after me.

What a shitty ending to my fairy tale.

* * *

Leo

“Truly, Brother,” Andrew says. “This is ridiculous, even for you.”

“And you’re being a bit of a twat, even for you.” I didn’t know quite what I was going to say to my brother when he arrived, but now that he’s here—now that he’s opened his mouth—I find the words coming easily. “Did you have to be so bloody rude to her?”

He doesn’t even blink. “I didn’t say a word to her.”

“But you certainly intended for her to hear everything you said.”

“Really, Brother, there are far more important things to discuss right now.”

Andrew looks so much like our father when he frowns. He looks so much like our father in general—and he so often does exactly what our father would do—that sometimes I have trouble separating my feelings for the two.

“Well?” I say, spreading my arms. “Have at me, then. Lecture me as you were sent here to do. Drag me back to Montovia by my ears if you feel it’s necessary.”

Andrew’s frown deepens. “Even now you refuse to take this seriously.”

“As you can see, I’m alive. The clinic is still standing. The new doctor has arrived safely. From where I’m standing, everything is well.”

“And this is why we can’t trust you with anything,” he counters. “You claim everything is well, but from what I’ve seen, that’s the furthest thing from the truth. You’ve only been here three days, and somehow you’ve managed to hurt yourself so badly that you had Matthias calling us in tears. And I suspect you’ve spent more time entertaining yourself in bed than you have looking at the financial statements in the clinic. I hope for your sake that woman at least smelled better than the fellow who escorted me up to this room—”

“Lecture me all you want,” I say, my hands curling into fists. “But leave Elle out of this.” It’s taking my entire effort to keep my temper in check.

Andrew’s nose wrinkles. “Elle? As in Eleanor Parker?” He shakes his head. “My God, Leopold, that was the doctor?”

My head throbs. “You’ve always criticized me for chasing airheads. I’d have thought you’d be happy to see me with a doctor.”

“You were sent here to investigate her clinic, not her body.”

“As much as I’m sure you’d love to give me your thoughts on the matter,” I say, sinking onto the bed, “Didn’t our father send you here to lecture me about my injury, not my sexual choices? And while we’re on that—I haven’t had anything to eat yet today, and I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded. If you intend to spend the next several hours telling me how disappointed you are, I’d appreciate it if you found me some breakfast first. Unless you want to explain to our father why I wasted away from hunger.”

“This isn’t a joke, Leopold.”

If I weren’t treating it like one, my fist would have already connected with his face. It’s the only way for me to keep my temper under control—and to keep Andrew’s focus off of Elle.

“On the contrary,” I tell him. “This is the most incredible joke. The fact he sent you of all people after me when you are the very reason I’m here—”

“He sent me after you because I understand the responsibilities of a prince of Montovia. You might not be next in line for the throne, Leopold, but you still have duties to uphold. Your actions affect the reputation of the entire family—the reputation of the entire country. This was your chance to make things right. To redeem yourself in the eyes of our country and the international media. Instead, you treat this place like another one of your clubs. Frankly, it’s a miracle the paparazzi haven’t already—”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “You’re speaking as if it’s my fault I’m here in the first place.” Sure, I’ve been blaming myself for everything that happened…but at the same time, I thought he was quietly blaming himself, too.

Andrew clasps his hands behind his back. “Before you were even eighteen, you had a reputation as a troublemaker and partier. I thought your tendencies would temper with age, but instead, it appears you’ve gone the other direction. Your privileged role in this world comes with duties, Leopold. Just because you aren’t next in line for the throne doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like. At some point, you need to grow up and take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

I rise to my feet again. “Just as you’ve taken responsibility for that night in Prague?”

Andrew visibly stiffens. He’s deftly avoided my other subtle references to what I did for him, but he can’t avoid a direct question. And I’ll take whatever ground I can get.

“Yes, on the outside, you may be the more responsible one,” I say, taking a step toward him. “But we both know the truth, even if you’d prefer to stand here and pretend that night never happened. I might not be particularly responsible or dutiful, but at least I’m not a hypocrite. The world knows exactly what they’re getting with me. They don’t have to respect me or like me, but at least I’m being honest.”

I might have thrown my brother off-balance for a moment, but by the time I’m done speaking, his eyes have gone hard and cold again. Hard, cold Andrew—I swear the man has no emotion whatsoever. He’s spent his entire life trying to live up to his role, bottling up everything beneath his intense, dutiful exterior. The fellow needs to get laid—the sooner, the better.

“I’m not here to debate your opinions on responsibility and honesty,” he says. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any more trouble for yourself or our family. You can take up the rest with our father when we get back home. We’ll leave as soon as you and Matthias can be ready.”

Leave? I suppose I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t. “There are still things to be done here.”

“And it is clear you haven’t the discipline to actually do them. One of the medical board members arrived with me. He’s on his way to the clinic to get a better understanding of the situation.”

“I’m not going back to Montovia,” I say. “Not yet.” Through the haze of everything else, I can only think of one thing—Elle. I need to find her. Apologize for my brother. Explain what’s going on. I have no idea what must be running through her head right now, but it can’t be good.

“I’m afraid you have no say in the matter,” Andrew says. “I’m under strict orders to have you on your plane immediately. Our parents want your injury assessed by one of our family physicians as soon as possible. I’m to stay behind for a few days and see what must be done here, but then I’ll be following shortly in my own jet.”

“I’m not going,” I tell him again. “And my injury is perfectly fine. Whatever you might think of Elle, she’s a damn fine doctor.”

“I don’t care if she’s the best damn doctor in the world. You will be on that jet within the hour. This is not a request, Leopold.”

My brother’s a fool if he thinks I’m going to take orders from him.

“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll go back if that’s what you want. But the moment the plane sets down, I’m going straight to our father and explaining what actually happened that night in Prague.”

It’s a petty threat to make, but it’s the only weapon I have against my brother—and it works. I’m used to being the irresponsible one, the troublemaker, the bad boy. I can bear the judgment of our family and the rest of the world. But Andrew… To Andrew, reputation is everything. He lives for his role in this world—it’s his entire reason for existing. When we were younger, I saw another side of him. He was still the responsible older brother, but there was a mischievous streak to him, too. He was fiercely intelligent—he always aced the tests our tutors gave us, while I struggled just to pay attention—but he was also loyal and generous. I know those parts of him are still there, buried deep down inside. I know he isn’t the emotionless shell of a man he pretends to be these days—hell, it’s why I dragged him out that night in the first place. To help him forget for a moment the man he thinks he’s supposed to be and to help him remember the man he is.

But it’s the shell standing here now. The upright, uptight, dutiful Andrew whose face has darkened in response to my threat.

“You might not care about your own reputation,” he says, his voice emotionless and cold, “and you might not even care about mine. But it’s time you learned your actions have consequences, Brother. That they affect more than you and me. If you are not on that plane within the hour, or if you breathe one word to our father when you get home, I will let the entire world know about the sexual indiscretions of Doctor Elle Parker while she served at our clinic. And I will personally ensure she never works in the medical field again.”

My jaw tightens. I was prepared for Andrew to make threats against me—not Elle. My stomach twists into a knot. I have no doubt Andrew will make good on his threat if necessary, and I know how much Elle’s work means to her. For her to lose that because of me… I’m not sure I could endure such a thing.

Damned conscience.

Part of me wants to lunge forward and punch the smug look right off of Andrew’s face. But I know that won’t solve anything—and it might only make things worse for Elle. After last night, I find myself feeling rather protective of her.

You’ve made things complicated enough for her already, I tell myself. Don’t make her deal with your brother, too.

So I straighten my shoulders, forcing myself to unclench my hands.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll continue to keep your little secret. You know it’s going to come out eventually, with or without my help.”

His mouth is a hard line. “And I will deal with it then. Today, my only assignment is to make sure you are on your plane as soon as possible.”

I try not to roll my eyes at him. One day Andrew is going to wake up and realize there’s more to life than following the rules, but unfortunately for me, I don’t think today is that day.

“I’ll go tell Matthias to prepare for an immediate departure,” I say flatly.

“Good.” My brother’s face doesn’t betray a hint of emotion. “I’m going down to the clinic to make sure you haven’t caused any irreversible damage there. I’ll see you off at the tarmac in one hour’s time.”

I throw silent curses at his back as he turns and walks out of the room. I hate that he’s forced me into this corner.

I hate that I’m thinking of a woman’s interests above my own. Having a sense of morality is bloody inconvenient, and I don’t like it.

When my brother’s footsteps have disappeared down the stairs, I take a deep breath. I hate to end this thing with Elle so soon, but perhaps I can still convince her to meet me in Beverly Hills sometime in the near future. I have a feeling she’s going to remain under my skin even when I leave this place—and I have no intention of letting her slip through my fingers, Andrew’s threats be damned. She and I would have to be discrete about our meetings, of course, but I think we can manage that.

First, though, I have to get her to agree to see me again. After the things Andrew said while she was still within earshot, I suspect I’m going to have to apologize profusely on my brother’s behalf.

I stride out of the room. I hope she didn’t go far—and I hope she didn’t cross paths with Andrew on his way to the clinic. I want to pull her into my arms once more before I go, feel her soft body mold against mine. I want to breathe in her scent and run my fingers through her hair. God—I’m half hard just thinking about it. My entire body vibrates with desire for her. I still don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted a woman like this.

And Andrew had to show up here and ruin it all. Bloody bastard.

I find Owen in the main room downstairs.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me which direction your sister has gone?” I ask him.

He looks at me with bloodshot eyes. “I don’t know if I should tell you, man.”

“Of course you should,” I say.

He shrugs. “I don’t know what all you did, dude, but she seemed pretty pissed at you.”

“And I’d like to apologize for that. For the way my brother treated her.” I can hear the impatience creeping into my tone.

“I’ll tell her you’re sorry,” he says.

“I’d prefer to tell her myself.”

“Sorry, dude. I’m afraid you can’t.”

I bite back a curse. “I assure you, Owen, I don’t want to upset her. I only want to apologize and—”

“No, I mean you can’t, man. She’s already left.”

My stomach tightens. “Left? To go where?”

“Home. Where else? The bus left ten minutes ago.”

The bus…

“Where was the bus going? Into Santa Rosa?”

“Yeah,” he says. “But look, dude. Just let her go. She’s been through a lot, man.”

I’m beginning to see that, but it doesn’t keep me from feeling a sharp sense of betrayal. I thought I’d have the chance to apologize before I left. The chance to convince her to meet me again. Or, at the very least, the chance to kiss her one last time. The chance to say goodbye.

You can go after her, I tell myself. I could probably convince Matthias to loan me the car.

But considering she ran off without telling me farewell, I have a feeling she won’t exactly be happy to see me again so soon. And should Andrew find out I went after her…well, it would only make the matter worse. He’d track me down easily. And then probably tie me to my jet to make sure I left the country on schedule.

Is this it, then? Have I seen Elle for the last time?

I know I shouldn’t be this worked up over a woman I’ve only known for a handful of days, but I still feel as if I’ve been punched in the stomach.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Elle and I were supposed to indulge in a few days of mind-blowing passion before we parted ways. I was supposed to get this out of my system. Now my body is tense with unspent desire. I’m agitated, restless.

And if I’m being completely honest, this isn’t simply about a missed opportunity for pleasure. I still find myself thinking about some of the things she said last night, still find myself remembering that deep vulnerability I saw in her eyes when she started to let her guard down. I was utterly entranced by it then, and the memory inspires a similar reaction.

I can’t let her go. I won’t.

I chew on my lip, pondering. Going after her in the car is still a terrible idea—I’d be lucky to have the chance to say two words to her before Andrew caught up with me. He’ll make sure I get on that plane no matter what.

After that, though…

Once my private jet is up in the air, I’m out of Andrew’s reach. I could go anywhere. Do anything. And it’s at least a fifteen-hour flight to Montovia, meaning I would have some time before Andrew or my father realized my jet was going the wrong direction.

The more I think about it, the more I like this plan. I won’t try to catch up to Elle in Santa Rosa. No, I’ll go right to her home. Meet her there. That would also give her a little time to cool off, making her much more receptive to my suggestions about how she and I might continue what we’ve started.

You’re mad, I tell myself. You’re losing your head over this woman. But it doesn’t matter how many times I say it to myself—I don’t care. Maybe Elle was right—maybe this is an addiction.

Of course, it doesn’t solve the issue of Andrew’s threats against Elle—no doubt he’ll try to make good on them the moment he realizes I haven’t gone back to Montovia—but I have a little time to come up with a solution for that. Or to come up with a few more threats for Andrew.

The more I think about it, the better I feel. I refuse to submit to my brother’s power games. He won’t win—not this time.

Nothing will keep me from what I want—and right now, I want Elle.

* * *

Elle

I step out of the cab and into the drizzling rain, trying not to think about the last time I was caught in a rainstorm. I still can hardly believe that night with Leo was only four days ago—it seems like almost a lifetime ago now.

My hair is wet before I even close the door of the taxi. I stand on the sidewalk and look at my house for a moment. I haven’t seen it in a year, but it looks the same—I have to admit I’m surprised the place hasn’t been destroyed. It’s dark, but I can see someone has mowed the lawn, at least.

The porch light is on—along with a string of Christmas lights still hanging around the front window, even though it’s almost spring. The light in my bedroom is also on by the looks of it.

I place my hands on my hips and shake my head to myself. I asked Owen to do one thing… The guy who is housesitting had agreed to stay only in Owen’s room while he lived here—I had told him before I left that my room was off limits, but he clearly didn’t listen. He is one of Owen’s friends, after all, and God only knows if he was even sober when I told him the rules.

I start to walk up to the door—I’m not looking forward to having to tell this guy he needs to leave—and I’m pretty pissed Owen didn’t make the call to let him know I was on my way home. I guess I don’t have to make him leave tonight, though—as long as he’s not in my room and I can take a much-needed shower, he can stay a few more days if he needs to. But I’m going to need some time alone to figure out where to go from here.

I’ve been spending too much time thinking about what happened before I left Rio de Campo. Too much time thinking about Leo. And I need to get that stuff out of my head—to forget any of it ever happened. No one would ever believe it, anyway, and I still think there’s a possibility Owen might have slipped me something—maybe I hallucinated the entire thing.

I guess I’ll never know for sure. It’s not like Leo gave me his phone number, and there’s no way I would ever be able to find him, assuming I even wanted to. It’s not like I can call up his castle and ask if he’s home, though thinking about that possibility makes me smile a little.

Whatever. It was all a stupid, little girl fantasy. I’ve spent the past four days trying not to think about how I fucked the whole thing up. It’s not like I’ve ever done what Owen suggested to me in the hostel—kept some list of celebrities I’d drop my panties for at a moment’s notice—but if I ever had, I have no doubt Leo would have been on it, even before I met him.

From now on, I’m going to have to avoid those celebrity tabloids I’ve always liked reading. I’m not sure I can handle seeing who he’s dating now. I hate to admit seeing a photograph of him with another woman would make me jealous—but it definitely fucking would.

I close my eyes and let the rain wash over me for a second. I almost wish it would wash away the memory of ever having met Leo. I could never have imagined being away from him would physically hurt this much—my chest is still aching thinking about him. And I realize it’s idiotic—I only knew him for a handful of days, and there’s no way I should be heartbroken over I guy I barely knew. But this wrenching in my chest is all too familiar, and I know it’s going to take me some time to get over it. Hopefully not a year this time. And hopefully not another trip to the other end of the world.

I walk up to the door and fish my house key out of my wallet. I’m not sure what I was expecting to happen when I entered, but it wasn’t this.

The house is clean—and it doesn’t smell like the gross stench that always seems to follow Owen around. I must have underestimated my house sitter. The television is on in the living room, and I decide to walk over to thank him for taking such good care of my house. As soon as I turn to look in, my breath catches in my chest and I stand there frozen.

Leo is sitting on a couch—not my couch—watching TV. He looks up at me and smiles. He motions to the television. “Could you explain this game to me? I’ve never understood American football. Or why they call it football when it so clearly is not played with the foot most of the time—a man just threw the ball with his hands for Christ’s sake. Also, what is the significance of Monday night?”

My mouth falls open and I’m having trouble breathing. I have to blink a few times to be sure I’m not in the middle of some delusion. “I…” I have to shake my head again to be sure he’s sitting here. “It’s sort of like soccer—what you call football. The two teams are trying to defend their goals—but they call them end zones in American football. And the players try to beat the shit out of each other in the meantime.”

He nods and turns his gaze back to the television. “And Monday night?”

I shrug. “Another day to make money from people watching.”

“Ah, I see now. American capitalism.” He rubs his chin before turning his gaze back to mine. “And do your loyalties lie with Detroit or with Philadelphia?”

I smile. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

“I’ve never been to either city, so I seem to have no preference.” He glances at the TV before looking at me again and smiling.

“Same. And I’m pretty sure football isn’t in season right now, so you’re probably watching a rerun, anyway.” I still can’t seem to move—I still can’t believe this is real. I’ve spent the past four days trying to convince myself I only imagined meeting Leo in the first place. And he’s sitting here. Prince Leopold. In my living room.

We stare at each other in silence. I’m still not sure what it is I’m feeling other than complete and total shock. My gaze drops to the sofa. “That isn’t my couch.”

He looks at the spot where I’m staring and runs a hand over what looks like leather. “It would seem the sofa that was here underwent an unfortunate accident at the hands of your house sitter. When I arrived, it was being held up on one side by a concrete block—”

“No, that’s pretty much how I left it.”

His brows knit together and he looks up at me. “You’re a physician. Why would you have furniture in that condition?”

“I… I’m only a year out of residency.” My brow furrows as I realize how much time has passed since I last saw my living room. “Two years now, I guess. People think doctors make all this money, but you really don’t unless you’re a cardiologist or something. And no one makes any income in residency, really—all your money goes to pay your student loan bills.” I shake my head. “Why am I talking about this with you? Why are you replacing my furniture? Why are you here?”

“All valid questions. As to the first, you’re speaking with me about your furniture because I mentioned the unfortunate state of your primary seating area. The second question is reasonably easy, as well. I replaced your sofa because it needed replacing. The third question is a bit more difficult to answer.”

“Try.”

He nods. “Why don’t you sit down?”

I shake my head. “I need a shower. A trip that should have taken sixteen hours took almost four days because of the weather, and I haven’t been able to shower. I had to wash in the airport bathroom…” My breaths are coming too fast and I have to shake my head again. “Why are you here? In my house? How did you even get in here?”

“Ah. Yes, your brother asked me to deliver a message to your house guest, as I mentioned to him before I left Rio de Campo that I was going to be in this area. It would seem Owen’s phone was not functioning.”

I shake my head again in disbelief. “So you broke into my house?”

“Not at all. I was invited by your brother to stay. With certain conditions, of course.”

I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head to myself. This is not really happening. It can’t be. I’ve barely slept in the past four days—I must be having some hallucination due to sleep deprivation.

“I assure you, Elle, there is nothing strange about my stay here these past three days.”

“You’ve been here three days?” I take a step back and lean against the wall.

He turns his gaze back to the television. “I believe it was fortunate I arrived when I did. I can only imagine what might have happened to the poor fellow who had been staying here if you had arrived at your home before I did.”

My knees are about to buckle underneath me, and I’m thinking about sinking to the floor before I collapse. “Because—?”

He doesn’t even let me get another word in. His gaze snaps to mine and he smiles. “Because I feared for the poor chap’s life.” He grins. “Because of the condition in which I found your home when I arrived.”

“No, I…I get that.” I shake my head again, sure if I turn it hard enough, this hallucination I’m having is going to evaporate into thin air. “So where is he now? Brody—Owen’s friend?”

“Ah, yes, that was his name. A sort of unfortunate and stereotypical surfer’s name, if I may be so bold as to say so. Bestowing that name upon a poor child almost relegates him—”

I interrupt with another shake of my head. “Where is he?”

He smiles. “The chap and I came to an agreement. He is standing in for me for the time being.”

“Standing. In.” My voice is flat with disbelief. I really can’t believe this is real—that this is happening at all. My legs begin to buckle and I slowly slide down to the ground. I end up with my knees at my chest and I lean my head back against the wall.

Leo doesn’t seem to register the state of shock I’m finding myself in, and he continues. “Not that he looks anything like me, of course. But my jet arriving in the area would never go unnoticed by the media. He’s staying in a room registered under my name at a luxury hotel in Beverly Hills.”

“The one with the private entrances, so the paparazzi don’t take your picture—?”

He interrupts. “I would hardly need a stand-in if I were staying there, now would I?” He pauses for a moment and meets my gaze. “It gives us a bit of time, Elle. Before we have to face that part of my life.”

I can only nod. Until that word sinks into my head. “We?”

He shrugs and stands, turning off the football game. He crosses the room and extends his hands to me.

I take them and he pulls me up before dropping my hands to slide his arms around my waist. He dips his head to my ear. “Don’t run away from me again.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but I can hear the serious tone.

My heart does a weird fluttery thing before it starts to pound in my chest. I pull my head back to look at him. “I didn’t ask you to come after me.”

He lifts a brow. “Didn’t you?”

* * *

Why the hell is he doing this?

I definitely didn’t want him coming after me—I never expected it, either. I only wanted to come home and go back to my normal life, putting the memories of what happened in Rio de Campo out of my head. Seeing Leo again was about the last thing I expected when I came home.

“No. I never asked you to come after me. I never would.” I try to twist out of his arms, but his grasp tightens around me. “I’m not worth the effort, Leo.” If he knew the reasons why my statement is true, he never would have come all this way. If he somehow manages to tolerate me after he finds out what I’m really like, there’s no way he’s going to be able to give me anything more than one of his short-term affairs. I would rather be done with men forever than to have one of them use me ever again. “I’m really not worth it.”

“I don’t believe that to be the case.”

“You’re wrong.” I try to wrench myself away again, but he pulls me toward him, pressing his body against mine.

He dips his head to my ear again. “That’s insulting.”

I tilt my head back to look into his eyes. “How is that insulting?”

His gaze narrows only slightly. “I believe you are worth every effort, Elle. For you to tell me that because I believe you are worthwhile, my values are somehow flawed is an insult to me.”

My heart thrashes in my chest for a moment at his words, and I almost wonder if maybe there could be more…but then I remember. There can’t be. There won’t be. “You don’t know me.”

He smiles. “As you continue to tell me. But I believe I know enough about you to know that I want to know more. Much more.”

I drop my arms and pull away from him. “There are millions of girls out there who would sleep with you in a second if you even looked at them. Probably a hundred thousand or so within a twenty-mile radius from where we’re standing.”

He takes my hands into his again. “But not you.”

“Was that a question?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“You flew seven thousand miles to sleep with me? Because I held you to your word that night and wouldn’t have sex with you?”

His shoulders lift in a small shrug, but his gaze never leaves mine. He’s almost challenging me to be the first to look away.

I shake my head and pull my hands from his, placing them on my hips. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m telling you—and this is not meant to be insulting to you in any way—I am not worth it. I’m a mess, Leo.”

“You merely need a shower. Something I’m more than happy to assist with if you’d allow it.”

My eyes widen with my exasperation. “I need so much more than a shower. You have no idea who I am. What I am. The things I’ve done—”

Something in his expression softens, and he pulls my hands into his again. “You graduated first in your class from your university studies and were named valedictorian. You were two years younger than the rest of your classmates—”

“I did two years of college while I was in high school.”

He lifts a brow. “You were accepted at both Columbia and Harvard medical schools, but chose to remain in California.”

“Because my mom was sick—”

“You were first in your medical school class until midway through your second year of medical studies.”

“And then I turned into a whore.” I pull my hands away from his again and cross my arms over my chest. My gaze narrows to glare at him. “How do you know all this? And why do you care?”

“It’s not that difficult to obtain background information, Elle. Most of that information was in the personnel file I had with me the entire time I was in Rio de Campo. I just had neglected to read it.”

I lift a brow. “But that doesn’t answer the second part of my question.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer to the second part. I don’t know why. I just find that I do…care.”

My gaze narrows again. “That must be very difficult for you, Your Highness.”

“Indeed, I’m finding I’m in uncharted territory.”

“Well, care about this, Your Majesty—”

“Only my father is called that—”

“After our mom died when I was in my second year of medical school and Owen completely fell apart, I almost flunked out. I had to get eighty percent in advanced physiology to pass and I only had sixty percent with less than two weeks left in the semester. My professor offered to give me one percent in extra credit for every blowjob I gave him. After the first time I…serviced him, he offered me two percent for every time I’d let him fuck me. I’ll let you do the math on how I managed to get an eighty-one percent in that class. I repeated the class that summer, but only so I could sleep at night.”

He frowns and his brows knit together. But he looks sad—not as shocked as I expected. “Elle—”

My eyes narrow to almost-slits. “Care about that, Your Highness. Or maybe you’d prefer to hear about my boss? The guy who told me he was separated from his wife and hadn’t had sex in seven years? Perhaps you’d like to hear how he told me I was the best thing that had ever happened to him? Maybe you’d like to hear about how five months after we started seeing each other, his wife—who he definitely was not separated from—found out about his affair with me. Maybe you want to hear how she came into the hospital and almost killed me, which resulted in me being unceremoniously fired from my job. Perhaps that is enough to get you to stop caring…”

I close my eyes for a second. I hate how my mouth seems to have a mind of its own sometimes, and I especially hate how it has decided to unload now, of all times. I blink, trying to push away the tears I can feel starting to sting in my eyes.

“Are you quite done?”

I nod and look up at him. “Yes, Leo. I’m quite done. Like I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m not worth the effort. I’m a complete and total mess. I’m the same as every other slutty girl out there. Worse, actually—”

He winces. “And if I wanted a slutty girl, I would be out at one of the many Los Angeles clubs picking one up right now.”

His jaw tightens and I can’t quite read what’s flashing through his eyes. His gaze narrows and his hands ball into fists. “What happened to you isn’t right. If I were to ever find either of those men…”

His voice trails off and we stare at each other in silence.

He finally lets out a long breath. “But I, too, have done many things I’m not proud of, Elle. Many.”

My brow furrows. “And how am I supposed to respond to that? That this must be true love because we’re both ashamed of our pasts? That because you were dumb enough to chase me over seven-fucking-thousand miles, I should…what? Allow you in my bed? So that I can add another page to my diary about how I let another man use me? Or maybe you think I should be flattered that because you’re a celebrity, and you’re paying attention to me—”

He pulls me into his arms so fast and has his lips pressed against mine so quickly that I have no choice but to stop talking.

His hand slides up my back and fists into my hair and he pulls my head back, forcing my gaze to meet his as he breaks the kiss. “I will decide for myself what is worthwhile. Not you, nor my brother, nor my father will be deciding that for me. Do you understand?”

I can only bob my head the slightest bit—his fingers are still knotted in my hair. My heart is thrashing in my ears and almost beating itself through my chest. My breath catches in my throat—I don’t think I could speak again even if I wanted to.

“Good. And while I have your attention, I’ll ask you to stop trying to push me away.”

“I—”

“You’ve run from me twice. And now you’re trying to shock me into running from you. It isn’t going to work, Elle. You may as well face that now—you can push as hard as you like, but I’m not going anywhere.”

I only open my mouth to ask my next question, and it’s like he can read my mind. I don’t even get a syllable out.

“And don’t ask me why. I don’t know that I have the answer to that question.”

Then he dips his head and kisses me again.

He pulls me tightly against him and kisses me as hard as I’ve ever been kissed. My lips part and his tongue glides along my lower lip for a moment before he pulls away again.

He releases me, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m glad we have this settled. I believe you will find the housekeepers I brought in did an adequate job of cleaning your washroom. Your brother mentioned you left your things in your bedroom, which you may be pleased to know appears to have been left untouched during your absence.”

“You didn’t…?” My breath seems to be permanently caught in my chest, and it’s difficult to speak. It’s not that I’d mind if Leo had gone into my bedroom—I guess I assumed he had.

“No, I did not sleep in your bedroom. I would never do that uninvited, Elle. Your brother mentioned I was welcome to stay in his room. And I hope you understand that was the first room I had the housekeepers clean. It seemed to be in the most need…”

“I can imagine.”

He nods and motions toward the hallway. His hand brushes my elbow, sending a new bolt of electricity up my arm. I look at where he’s touching me before lifting my gaze to his eyes.

He raises a brow—he definitely felt it, too. He motions toward the bathroom door. “I’ll let you shower and we can speak more about this when you’re done if you’d like.” He reaches inside the door and flips on the light. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

I only have to glance inside to see what he’s done and my mouth falls open. “My bathroom has never been this clean. You didn’t have to do this, Leo. Really—I could have cleaned it myself—”

“Consider it a belated birthday gift.”

I turn to meet his gaze once more, lifting a brow.

“Upon my closer examination of the personnel records, I also discovered my oversight of that issue. You should have told me the day we met was your birthday, Elle.”

“Why?” My brow furrows. “What difference would it have made? It’s just another day.”

“Perhaps.” His face is expressionless, and I can’t read what is going on behind his eyes. His hands have balled into fists again—almost as though he’s trying to cover up his frustration.

I’ve said too much to him—typical for me. He’s probably having second thoughts about coming here—especially now that I’ve revealed my dirty secrets. If my mouth didn’t overload itself as much as it does, I’m sure I wouldn’t find myself in trouble as often as I do. If I could learn to shut the fuck up once in awhile, I would probably have a very different life.

I walk into the bathroom before turning around. “I’m gross. I mean—I would have been home two days ago if I hadn’t been stuck in Miami because of the hurricane. Hurricanes aren’t even supposed to happen this late in the year…”

“I know.” He doesn’t even flinch.

“You were stalking me, weren’t you? Keeping tabs—”

His lips curl into the smallest of smiles. “I won’t deny I requested frequent updates on your whereabouts, Elle. There was little I could do, though. I would have been happy to send my jet for you, but there was no way for any aircraft to get in or out of that airport. You were safe where you were, and the airline was happy to—”

I nod, suddenly understanding what happened. “And that was how I happened to be upgraded to first class on the flight home.”

“Again, consider it a belated birthday gift if you must.”

“I can take care of myself, Leo.”

“Clearly.” He stares at me. “And you’ve done a fine job of it, quite honestly. You know, Elle, there’s nothing wrong with allowing someone to assist you on occasion. Whether you require it or not. Allowing someone to help you helps them, too. I’m certain that as a physician, you know that—how helping someone makes you feel better about yourself.”

My heart skips a few beats and does the weird fluttering thing it’s been doing since I met him. I still don’t know what it is—I don’t know that I’ve ever felt it before. The doctor in me thinks it might be some sort of arrhythmia, but the woman in me is pretty sure it’s something else.

It’s hard to breathe again, especially with the way he’s looking at me—staring at me like he can see right into my soul. I don’t know how he can do this—how he seems to understand everything going on inside my head without really knowing anything about me at all. It seems really unfair he has this advantage—this ability to see right through me.

I barely have a second to think about what he’s said before he has me in his arms again. His lips press against mine with a different sort of hunger this time, leaving me breathless with new ripples of heat coiling through me.

His hands slide up my back, pulling my shirt up with them. He breaks our kiss for only a moment to lift my shirt over my head. He tosses it aside and presses his lips to mine again, his tongue insistent on the parting of my own. His arms snake around my waist, one hand sliding up the length of my spine.

My hands reach up to his collar and I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers trembling with some strange urgency I don’t remember having felt before. I’m only able to unfasten a couple before he drops his hands from my back, grasping the sides of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He pulls away for the briefest moment to toss it aside before his lips return to mine.

It’s never been like this. Not even with the few men I’ve thought I loved. There was never this energy—this hunger. I’ve never felt so…possessed. In every sense of the word.

His hand slides up my back again and I shudder beneath the electricity of his touch. His hand tangles into my hair and he tips my head back, breaking our kiss.

He pulls back ever so slightly and looks into my eyes. His breath is ragged and his voice is uneven. “Elle…”

“Yes.” My voice is almost as breathless as his. I nod and my fingers curl into his chest. “Yes.”

“If this isn’t what you want—”

“I said yes, Leo.” My gaze drops to where I’m touching him and I wonder for a moment if his skin is as sensitive to my touch as mine is to his. I look back up into his eyes. “This is absolutely what I want.”

His eyes darken. “Because I won’t be able to stop—”

“That’s good because I won’t want you to stop.”

My words seem to ignite a new fire inside him and his lips meet mine with a new passion. His hand fists into my hair while his free hand finds the button of my shorts. He unfastens it with a flick of his wrist and they fall to the floor.

He releases my hair long enough to untie the back of the bikini top I’ve been wearing under my t-shirt, but he leaves the neck tied.

He pulls away from me, reaching to start the shower before he turns back to me. His mouth falls open as he looks me up and down. He reaches over and unties the neck of my top and it falls to the floor.

His gaze drops to my breasts and I watch his tongue trail along his bottom lip. “Christ.” The single word comes out as almost a groan.

He lets out another ragged breath before he pulls me into his arms again. His lips press just behind my ear as one arm slides up the length of my spine again, sending another shiver of electricity through my skin, while his other hand trails down to my bare ass. His lips meet mine again as his fingers press into my flesh.

I gasp against his mouth and start to fumble with the button at his waistline. He grabs my wrist and lifts my hand so that it rests on his chest again, his other hand unfastening and removing his pants in a single, fluid motion.

His arms encircle my waist and he lifts me into the shower. I can feel his pulsing, thick heat, though he’s careful not to press against me. He sets me on my feet and leans me against the wall under the shower head and hot water rains on us both. His lips drop to my collarbone and one hand slides up my front, cupping my breast in his hand.

My neck arches and my hands curl into his hair. I try not to moan as he works my nipple into a tight bud with his thumb. My eyes close at the heat coiling inside me, centering at my core as pleasure courses through my every cell.

His mouth finds mine again and he captures my lips in another searing kiss.

He dips his head again a moment later, breaking our kiss as he nips and sucks at my breast before he pulls back, his tongue trailing down my front as he sinks to his knees.

I let out another gasp. Raw electricity pulses inside me before his tongue even finds the sensitive flesh beneath the folds between my legs. His hands find my hips, and I rock into him, the slow stroke of his tongue nearly sending me over the edge before I even know what’s happening. My hands curl into his hair as the world explodes around me. “Oh, God. Leo.”

I barely hear him groan over the sound of my pulse thrashing in my ears. He kisses his way up my abdomen as he stands, and his lips are on mine again in what seems like the space of a heartbeat. My hands drop to his chest, tracing his muscles. I draw a finger carefully over the barely healed wound on his side as I feel my way down to his abdomen, then lower.

He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand back to his chest, his lips never leaving mine. He tips his head away for only a second to speak. “Not yet.”

His hands trail down my back, gripping my ass for a moment. His lips return to mine, almost branding me with his desire.

My core aches as the heat begins to coil around my belly again. I hook my leg over his, pulling him into me. His thick cock pulses against me and I’m almost overcome with a need I don’t remember ever feeling before. I don’t just want him—I need him.

I pull away from him, breaking our kiss. I let my lips trail over his chest, finding my way to his abdomen. My finger traces the wound on his torso again before my kisses trail lower. I’m about to sink to my knees and take him into my mouth—I need to taste him. I’ve never wanted any man like this—I’ve never willingly wanted anything like this before.

But before I can do anything, he lifts me up, his arms sliding under mine. His lips find mine again as he pulls me out of the shower. He reaches down to turn off the water before he guides me backward and out of the small bathroom, both of us still dripping wet. He carries me into my bedroom and gently sets me on my back on the edge of the bed.

“I need to hear you say it, Elle.” His breaths are ragged—he wants me at least as much as I want him. He stands in front of me, his eyes trailing over my body, up and down, up and down, and I can see the desire—the hunger in his gaze.

I’m still breathless, barely able to speak. “I want you, Leo. I need you. Now.” I try not to think about how desperate that sounds—I can’t remember feeling this way before. This overwhelming desire—almost a longing to have him inside of me. I’m almost writhing in pain at having this much distance between our bodies.

He lets out a low groan and his eyes flutter closed for a second. “Condom. I don’t have a condom. Fuck—”

My heart pounds for a second and my mouth opens in disappointment until I remember where I am. “Top drawer of the nightstand.” It’s bullshit to try to pretend I don’t have any, and I have no desire to delay this any longer than we already have.

He opens the drawer, tearing open the foil packet before sliding on the condom. He covers my body with his only a moment later, his hands sliding up my back before he fists a hand into my hair to arch my head back, forcing my gaze to his. “Tell me again, Elle.”

My heart flutters at his words and I can’t help but shiver. I’m barely able to speak—my lungs can’t seem to fill with enough air. “I need you.” I have to pause for a moment. “I want you, Leo.”

A low groan escapes him before his lips meet mine once more. He presses himself between my thighs and I feel him everywhere as he buries himself inside me. His hands move across my skin, almost an orchestrated symphony of pleasure—he seems to know exactly where to touch me, exactly what will bring me ecstasy—and I’ve barely been able to say a word.

He rocks into me again and again, and with every touch, I approach the edge once more. He seems to sense how close I am and his thrusts slow. He waits, almost willing me to climax again. His hand finds my breast and with his long, slow strokes over my skin, I explode around him, crying out his name with a loud gasp. Only a moment later, he threads a hand in my hair, his other hand on my hip as he reaches his own climax, his body shuddering over mine as he groans my name.

We lie there in stillness, almost refusing to let the other go. He tips his head into my hair, taking a long breath—almost drinking me in. He kisses the side of my head without a word before he edges himself away from me, disappearing out the door.

I lift myself onto my elbows, suddenly feeling very exposed. I roll off the bed and pull down the blankets, slipping under them.

He should only be gone a minute, but he seems to be taking his time. My heart is beating a little too fast, waiting. And as the minutes tick by, I realize it’s taking too long for him to return.

He’s not coming back. I fucked this up, too.

* * *

Leo

I’m in trouble.

I run my fingers through my hair—which is still dripping wet—as I stare down at the empty glass in my other hand. I only meant to grab some water for the two of us, but now that my head is starting to clear again, now that the haze of need and pleasure has started to dissipate, the gravity of this situation has begun to sink in.

I knew I was courting my father’s displeasure when I ignored Andrew’s orders to return home. Poor Matthias was beside himself with concern when I told him what I intended—but his loyalty has always lain first and foremost with me, not my father or my brother, and I think perhaps he understood this was not simply an act of defiance or rebellion. Matthias is shrewder and more observant than most people give him credit for, which is probably why he agreed to go with my stand-in to the hotel in Beverly Hills. He knows Elle isn’t just another woman for me.

But therein lies the problem. Elle isn’t just another woman. I cannot simply fuck her and forget about her. But now I’ve complicated my situation—and hers. I don’t know if Andrew will make good on his threats. I don’t know what my father will do when he discovers where I am. Perhaps he’s sent a contingent of his lackeys to Beverly Hills. Or perhaps he’s simply waiting, unwilling to cause a public scene but certain I’ll eventually return home. I always do, after all, no matter what trouble I’ve caused.

This time, it’s different. This time, Elle is involved. I can’t bear to leave her—but at the same time, I can’t bear the thought of dragging her further into this. My family’s reach is far and deep. We have the money and the influence to swiftly and quietly destroy the life of a solitary physician, especially one whose professional history is dotted with scandal. My father or Andrew could take everything from her without the rest of the world knowing. And even if she spoke out, her past would cast a shadow over all her claims. I know how cruel and ruthless the press can be—they’d drag her skeletons out of the closet for all to see. Her past matters little to me—knowing the full truth doesn’t alter my feelings in the slightest—but it clearly matters deeply to her. She carries her shame like a shield, using it to keep the rest of the world at bay. What would she do if the entire world knew her secrets?

I rub my forehead. I’m still processing the things she told me earlier—bouncing between sadness and rage at the thought of what those men did to her. They took advantage of her. Used her. Broke her and made her think she was worthless and damaged. She’s been carrying this shame for years, and she did nothing wrong. I swear, if I ever find either of those men…they’ll know the full force of my anger. I’ll destroy them for what they did to her.

But where does that leave us? How do I protect Elle? I don’t know how to take away her shame, but I might not be able to keep that shame from becoming public.

I close my eyes. If Elle and I go out in public together, the eyes of the entire world will be on her. My family might not have to do anything at all—the press would dig up her past all on their own. But what’s the alternative? That I never leave her house? While I can certainly think of many, many ways we might occupy ourselves, that isn’t an effective long-term strategy.

I shouldn’t have come after her. I knew there were risks. Knew there would only be complications. But I wanted her so much—was so focused on having her in my arms one more time—that I pushed away all other thoughts and considerations. All I knew was that I needed to see her again. Touch her again. Kiss her again. Nothing else mattered.

And now it’s possible I’ve destroyed her life. The longer I think about it, the more I realize there are only two possible outcomes to our situation: either I continue to see her—meaning sooner or later the press will notice her and her past will become public—or I break things off now, making me exactly the man she always feared I was. The man who would have her and then throw her away again just as quickly.

My hand tightens on the empty glass. God, is this what it feels like to have a conscience? I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

“Leo?”

Elle’s voice behind me startles me out of my thoughts, and the glass falls from my hand, shattering on the tile floor.

“Shit,” I say. What’s wrong with me?

Elle starts to step forward, but I throw out an arm and stop her.

“You’re barefoot,” I say. “I don’t want you cutting yourself.”

“You’re barefoot, too,” she points out. She frowns up at me. “Is something wrong? You’ve been out here a long time.”

I rub the back of my head. “I was just getting us some water.”

“For ten minutes? With an empty glass?” The confusion in her eyes turns to something else—something that makes my heart ache. She’s always tried to be so brave around me, so strong and detached, but now I see the depth of her vulnerability. She’s afraid. She took a risk with me, and I can see exactly how much that has cost her.

I can’t bear to see that look, especially considering the choice I know I’m going to have to make.

Right now, though, there’s only one choice. I need to comfort her. Assure her I won’t abandon her in the middle of the night. Take her into my arms and let her feel what she does to me. Show her with my body what I don’t dare put into words.

I carefully step over the minefield of broken glass. Then I wrap my arms around her and tug her right against me, lowering my mouth to hers.

Her lips fall open beneath mine, and I take full advantage of it, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth. She moans softly as her tongue meets mine, and my hands tighten on her back. Her taste is intoxicating. She stopped to put on a robe before coming to find me, and I find myself annoyed by the layer of terrycloth between my hands and her skin. I need to get her back to the bedroom and get her out of this.

But then her hands come up between us, pushing against my chest. I begrudgingly tear my mouth away from hers.

“What is it?” I ask. Just that brief kiss was enough to awaken my hunger for her again, and I’m eager to push away the thoughts I was having before she walked in.

“Something’s wrong,” she murmurs, her blue eyes wide and worried as she looks up at me.

“Nothing is wrong,” I tell her. At least nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Before she can say another word, I reach down and scoop her up in my arms. “Now, I believe we still have half the night ahead of us. We’ll worry about the glass in the morning.”

But she shakes her head as I start to carry her back to her room. “Don’t lie to me, Leo.”

“The only thing wrong is that we’re out of bed,” I say. “Once is not enough for me, Elle. I intend to have you half a dozen more ways before morning.”

She’s still frowning at me as I lay her back down on the bed. “Leo, I—”

I cut her off with a kiss, this one deeper and more urgent than the last. I don’t want to talk. I want to forget about the choice I have to make, forget about the entire outside world. Tomorrow I can make the decisions. Tonight I just want to lose myself in her again. To hear her cry out my name in pleasure one more time—no, a hundred more times. I want to explore every bit of her soft, luscious body until I know it as intimately as I know my own.

Perhaps she still means to argue with me. But as I deepen my kiss, as I tug her robe open and slide my hands across her bare skin, she seems to give herself over to the needs of her body. Her hands come up and tangle in my hair. Her hips arch up against mine. I pull my lips away from hers and kiss a path along her jaw, then down to her throat, nipping at the tender skin there.

“Leo…” she moans.

My cock throbs at the way she says my name. The next time I nip at her, my teeth are a little rougher. She gasps as her fingers tighten in my hair.

I want to make her say my name again. Slowly, I slide down her body, letting my mouth torture and tease her along the way. I move my lips softly, delicately, along the swell of her breast, but when I reach the nipple, I’m no longer gentle. I suck it between my teeth and am rewarded with a groan from deep in her throat.

My hand comes up to address her other breast, letting my fingers skim across the hard, sensitive bud there. A featherlight touch to play against the rough treatment my lips and teeth are giving its twin.

“Leo.” This time, the word is a whimper.

I move onward, down across her stomach, letting my tongue lead the way. She squirms beneath me, and for a moment, I think she’s given herself completely over to the pleasure. But when I reach her bellybutton, she suddenly freezes beneath me.

“Leo,” she whispers. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

My stomach tightens. Nothing I want you worrying about right now. I don’t respond to her question. Instead, I dip my face lower, down to where I can breathe in the sweet, heady scent of her arousal. God, I could drown in that scent.

I push her legs apart a little more, giving me room to move my face closer. I’ve tasted her once tonight, but that wasn’t enough. I want to feel her come on my tongue a second time—and drive all lingering worries from her mind.

She shudders at the touch of my lips. The first time I was urgent, needy, but this time I take my time. Tease her relentlessly. Taunt her with gentle strokes, get her trembling and already unraveling before I even slip my tongue inside of her. When I finally do, the sound that comes from her throat is almost animal, and I find myself smiling against her as I bring her the last few beats to her climax.

My God, she is beautiful when she comes.

But now my cock is aching again, and even as she’s coming down from her pleasure, I’m climbing her body once more. Fortunately, she seems to be driven by a similar need. She stares at me through her haze of pleasure, her half-lidded eyes shining up at me as she reaches for the nightstand.

I bend down and kiss her. Her body seems to melt against mine, and for a moment I consider sliding into her as I am, without anything between us—I’m not sure she’d object, not right now. I want her fully and completely.

God, Leo. You are in trouble.

But I remember myself at the last moment, pulling back. Her fingers have frozen on the nightstand, so I reach over past her and grab a condom myself.

As I sit back and slide it on, I tell her, “Roll over.”

She blinks up at me, probably still dazed from her last orgasm. “Roll over?”

I reach down and gently flip her over onto her stomach, then slide my hands beneath her hips and pull her up onto her knees. I lean down so I can speak right into her ear.

“I told you I wanted you half a dozen more ways before morning,” I murmur into her ear. “I thought we’d start like this. Unless you oppose?”

“No,” she breathes. “No, I don’t oppose.”

“Good.” I suck her earlobe between my teeth before rising just enough to guide myself into her again.

We both moan as I sink into her. God, and I thought she felt good the first time. I want to go slowly, to tease her with my cock the way I just teased her with my tongue, but my need is too great for that. Elle is trembling beneath me, unsteady on her hands and knees, and though I know I should have given her more time to recover, all I can think about is how much I want to make her come again. How much I want to feel her shudder around me one more time.

My fingers dig into her hips as I move against her. After a moment, I let one hand dip down between her legs, and I’m rewarded with a whimper as I brush my thumb across her clit. Though I’m enjoying the view of her curves from this angle, I find myself leaning forward again, aching to feel more of her skin against mine. I can’t move as fast like this, but it allows me to go deeper, to possess her body more fully.

It’s never been like this. I’ve been with a number of beautiful women, many of whom were quite skilled in bed. But I’ve never felt possessed like this before. It’s not only a hunger, a desire, no—it’s a need I feel in my very core. I want to claim this woman in every sense of the word.

Suddenly this isn’t enough. I need to see her face. Need to look into her eyes.

I pull back and grab her, flipping her over before she has the chance to say a word. Her hair spills around her on the pillow. Her breasts heave with the force of her breaths, those beautiful little nipples rising and falling. Her eyes flutter open, and I catch her gaze with mine as I lean over her again.

“I needed to look at you,” I say by way of explanation. “I needed you to look at me.”

Her lips fall open, but she doesn’t say anything. She only nods. And then I’m inside her again, and I keep my eyes on hers the entire time, watching the emotions play across her face as we move against each other. Her body meets mine with every thrust. Her hands come up and dig into the skin of my back, and her eyes never leave mine.

I watch her feelings flicker across her face, too fast and too numerous to identify properly. I watch her react to the sensations moving through her body. Watch her eyes widen when I surprise her, watch them droop when her pleasure begins to build to its peak again. And when she finally comes, I know it by the look in her eyes even before I feel her body tightening around mine. My release follows shortly after, and the moment it does I close the distance between our faces and kiss her fiercely.

It’s not until some time later, when she’s sleeping against my chest, that my mind wanders back to the decision I know I’m going to have to make.

I knew Elle wouldn’t be just another woman for me. But this…this goes beyond that. It goes into territory I have yet to experience. Territory I’m not sure I’m ready to experience.

I tilt my head and look down at the woman in my arms. My fingers splay against her back, pulling her closer to me. She’s so beautiful, and I so deeply appreciate the view of her bare body wrapped around mine, that I find it difficult to breathe. And after what we just experienced together…

If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine what it might be like for a woman who was already in an emotionally vulnerable place.

And she has no idea what she’s getting into. She doesn’t know what my brother threatened to do. Even if I could convince him not to make good on his threats, she still isn’t prepared for what the press will do when they find out who she is. This will only end poorly for her. I saw how passionate she was about her work in the clinic. It’s the work she was meant to do. If she loses that, if I cause her to lose that…

I squeeze my eyes shut. I might try and convince myself otherwise, but the more time I spend with her, the more it’s clear I only have one choice. If I didn’t care for her, if I only cared about enjoying her in bed, I could continue this affair. Let the chips fall where they may. But I do care. I care a lot more than I feel comfortable admitting. And that means I need to be thinking about her, not just myself.

Which means ending this now, before my brother does anything rash. Before the press finds out. Before either of us falls in deeper than we already have.

* * *

Elle

Something isn’t right.

I can’t quite put my finger on what is going on with him, but I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. He’s hiding something.

I think he’s exhausted himself—I’ve never experienced anything like the nearly inextinguishable passion that seems to burn inside him. I almost understand Leo’s reputation with women now—and I’m not sure I’ll ever be enough for him. I still don’t understand how he didn’t run out the door screaming when I told him some of the things I had done. It’s not like he knows everything, but the small amount I did tell him should have been enough to make any sane man bolt. Maybe he isn’t sane. Or maybe it’s like he said last night—maybe he really does care and nothing I’ve done in the past matters to him.

Not that him caring about me makes a bit of sense—the man knows almost nothing about me. But there’s a little part of me wondering if we’re both so fucked up that together we might cancel those broken parts of ourselves out.

Of course, that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever allowed myself to think. There’s no way he sees me as anything more than a conquest—and now that he’s had me, I’m sure he’ll make some excuse to leave as soon as he’s satisfied. But the way he makes love to me… There’s something so intimate about how he wants me to look into his eyes when I come—and the way he looks into mine. I don’t see how anyone could put on an act like that—how anyone could say that doesn’t matter—even if he does have needs that seem almost insatiable. Maybe he really is like this with every woman, but I have my doubts. I only wish I could understand him the way he seems to be able to understand me.

There’s no way this is going to last. He’s admitted he loses interest pretty quickly, and I’m almost positive as soon as any inkling of emotion begins to creep in for him, he’ll be gone. Like with the starlet he was with on the yacht a few summers ago—he hadn’t said as much that night at the clinic, but he hadn’t really needed to. I already knew. When the tabloids hinted there might be more than just sex involved between Leo and his lover—that maybe he was ready to settle down—he had abruptly ended the affair.

My heart twists around on itself, and my chest begins to ache.

It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker when he decides to end it with me.

I look over at him, and I have to physically restrain myself from stroking his chest. I know if I so much as touch him, he’ll wake up. And if he wakes up, he’ll fuck me senseless again. Not that I would mind at all, but I’m not sure my body can take another round—he seems to wring out every last droplet of energy from me with his lovemaking. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this physically exhausted—not even after pulling never-ending night shifts during residency.

If only the tabloids knew about this part of him…

Tabloids.

Fucking tabloids. Why the hell haven’t I thought about it before now? I bolt upright, blinking a few times. I lift the sheets to cover my chest and my gaze darts between the windows in my bedroom.

They know everything about him. What he eats. Where he shops. Who he fucks.

Who he fucks.

I cross my arms over my chest. My breaths are coming too fast. I’m about to have a panic attack—why the hell did I let him into my bed?

My stupid body. My stupid fucking body and allowing it to control everything. Letting it get away with turning my brain and all sense of reason into some afterthought—hell, turning everything into an afterthought.

They’re going to find out about me. They’re going to find out everything. The things I told Leo last night are nothing—hell, I’d walk a few blocks down to the pier and tell everyone there about those things any night of the week. Those events are nothing compared to the disgusting filth I really am. And Leo… If he even speaks to me when he finds out, it won’t matter. His family would make him an outcast for being with someone like me.

I’m not worth it.

It’s the same song that’s been playing in my head for years. I’m not sure why I thought it would be different this time. I guess because he pursued me—he made it seem like he was interested in me. Like he cared. And maybe he does, but it doesn’t matter now. He needs to go before they find him here…

Here. Why is he here?

I look over at him again and he shifts, almost as though he’s somehow able to sense my thoughts. None of this is making much sense—he clearly doesn’t know about my past, and I would prefer it stays that way. There is always the possibility my mouth will overrun itself again in some moment of passion, but I’m fairly confident I won’t ever talk about that particular secret. That one will never come out. But the press—I mean, it wouldn’t be easy, but if someone really wanted to, they could certainly dig up every last thing I’ve been trying to hide. Leo might be a lot of things—a playboy, a womanizer, a spoiled rich boy—but he isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t knowingly put me in a position like this—would he?

He’s hiding from the paparazzi—or maybe from something else. Hiding here.

He shifts again and I can see by the fluttering of his lashes he’s about to wake up. I’m not sure why I’m feeling so shy around him all of a sudden—it isn’t as though he didn’t taste every last inch of me last night. But something is wrong. So, so wrong about all of this, and I know now my stupid oversexed body was keeping me from seeing it.

He smiles at me—that same smile he’s given me eight times now since he lifted me into the shower last night. He reaches over and tries to pull the covers away from me.

My brow furrows. “Leo.”

His eyelids are hooded, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even listening. He rolls onto his side and hooks an arm across me, pulling me over to meld his body against mine again.

My breath catches and I close my eyes, arching my neck to him, almost begging him to kiss it—to take me again. And he obliges, pressing his lips to the sensitive area beneath my ear before trailing the length of my neck with his tongue and nipping at my collarbone.

I blink a few times and snap myself awake—out of this lust-fueled daze I’ve been in for the past twelve hours. I sit up and scoot myself to the edge of the bed. I yank the covers back up over my chest before I look back over at him. “Leo.” My voice is a bit more curt than I intend.

He groans with disappointment before he rolls onto his back and rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know.”

“You know?” I look over at him, my eyes wide. “How do you know?”

His voice is still low and he sounds half-asleep. “Because I was the one taking them from the drawer.”

“What?” I glance over at the bedside table and see the half-opened drawer—the empty condom box is turned on its side.

“You can fetch us more later. Of course, there are other alternatives, Elle, and I wouldn’t be opposed to—”

“I would be opposed.” I have to close my eyes for a second, trying to remember what it is I wanted to say in the first place. “And I’m not about to go fetch you anything. I’m not a dog.”

“We’ll find a delivery service, then. But I can assure you I’m regularly tested—”

“Ack, no.” I consider putting my hands over my ears then think better of it. “And I don’t want to even think about why you felt the need to tell me that, Leo.”

“For the sake of honesty, Elle.”

Right—honesty. It’s a concept I’m fairly certain neither of us is very familiar with.

He rolls onto his side and rests his head on his hand. His eyes skim over me, almost like he’s peeling the blanket from me with his gaze. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes in a long breath. “I’m not sure I can wait for the delivery service, Elle.”

I feel the pull at my core again—I hate that my body is doing this to me, setting itself on fire because of how he’s looking at me. He hasn’t even touched me this time—but I guess it’s the anticipation of his touch that makes me want to push him to his back to straddle him. Again.

But I pull the covers up further, clutching them to my chest. I try to will that feeling between my legs to go away. I glance over the edge of the bed and see my robe on the floor where Leo cast it aside last night. God, I barely remember which time that was—until I do. It was right after the first time—when he disappeared into the kitchen for no reason.

I slide off the bed and grab my robe, trying to keep myself covered as I throw it over my shoulders. I tie it around my waist, adding a second knot in case he gets any ideas—not that it will stop him, but it might give me enough time to break myself out of the dream state I seem to go into whenever he looks at me like he’s looking at me now.

My gaze meets his and we’re locked like that for a moment too long. I’m ready to have him again, almost tortured by the distance between us.

This has to stop.

I know this is a temporary thing—this not being able to get enough of each other situation we’re in now. I know it doesn’t last—part of me wants to enjoy it while it does, but the other part knows we’re both going to do more damage to each other if it doesn’t stop now.

“So, last night—”

“Come back to bed, Elle. Last night doesn’t have to end.” He tilts his head, giving me that same lusty smile before he runs his hand over the sheets next to him. “The bed is so much warmer with you in it.”

I have to ball my hands into fists, pushing my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from returning to him.

“And I promised you a half-dozen different ways, did I not?” He closes his eyes. “Mm. I only count five.”

“Eight. Eight times. I think you’re going for a world record or something.” The words fall out of my mouth and I balk, my mouth hanging open. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.

“Eight times but only five ways…” A slow smile forms on his lips, his eyes still closed. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word, Elle.” His eyes flutter open and he tilts his head, inviting me to lie next to him again.

I shake my head and cross my arms more firmly over my chest. “I need to know what happened last night.”

He grins. “I don’t believe I need to explain the mechanics. You were bewitchingly proficient.”

Heat rises in my cheeks and I’m sure my face is bright red. “I meant in the kitchen.”

“Ah, the glass. I’d forgotten. I did see a member of the housekeeping staff with a broom, however. I’m sure we can locate it—”

“Not the glass, Leo.”

His smile falls only slightly, but I can see it’s no longer genuine. He’s definitely hiding something. “I was merely lost in thought, Elle. Overcome by your beauty and the memory of the first encounter we shared—”

“You’re so full of shit.” I shake my head again.

“Every word I’ve stated is true. You’re exquisite, Elle—”

“Thank you. That’s all fine. But I know something was wrong in there. You’re hiding, aren’t you?”

He breaks our gaze, his eyes dropping to the bed. He shifts around, straightening the covers over him before he speaks. “I don’t know what you’re speaking of.”

“Hm. I think you do. You know, I was pretty surprised to find you here. It was a little disarming—”

“You,” he interrupts. “You are the one who is disarming. You have no idea the restraint I’ve had to force upon myself in your presence since we’ve met—”

“You’re changing the subject, Leo.” I let out a long breath. “Why are you here?”

“I thought that would be obvious, particularly after the night we’ve shared.”

I groan and hold up my hands. “You’re incredibly frustrating.”

He falls back onto his pillow, grinning. “That is not my intent.”

My arms cross over my chest again. “Okay, how can I ask this so that you won’t deflect the question?” I pause for a moment. “If you wanted to see me, you could have sent for me—you could have met me in your stupid private hotel.”

“Indeed. However, you made it quite clear in Rio de Campo that you would never accompany me to that location.”

“That was before. And you know that—”

He sits up, interrupting me. “Elle, my life is complicated. That part of my life is particularly problematic.”

“And yet you’re here. In my house. People know you go to that hotel, don’t they?”

He frowns and his shoulders lift into a small shrug.

“Was someone following you? I guess I just don’t understand—”

“You don’t need to understand. This was the easiest way.”

My brows knit together. “The easiest way for what, exactly?”

“For all of it.”

My mouth falls open and I stare at him for a moment. “All of what?”

He lets out a groan of frustration. “Elle.” My name comes out on almost a growl. “We don’t need to discuss this at the moment. If you would come back to bed—”

“Are you trying to protect me? From them?” I motion toward the window with my shoulder. “The media? The people who follow you around constantly?”

“It’s not that simple. I can handle the media.”

I nod. “You’re hiding from someone else, aren’t you?”

His jaw tightens and he closes his eyes. “Come back to bed.”

I fold my arms across my chest again. “For how long?”

He opens his eyes to meet my gaze. “Until we both decide we need breakfast. At the moment, I find I’m only hungry for you—”

“Leo, will you fucking talk to me? You’re using my house as some hideout, aren’t you?”

His jaw tightens again and his cheeks flush, but he doesn’t confirm my suspicions.

“How does this end?”

He speaks through his gritted teeth. “Not well.”

“And what does that mean?”

He lets out a sharp breath. “It means I’m leaving. Today.”

It feels like someone has driven a knife into my heart, twisting it with so much force I think my knees are going to buckle. I have to blink back the tears that come to my eyes when I realize the truth.

He used me.

* * *

Leopold - Part Three will be available on August 16, 2016. Sign up for the Royal Heartbreakers Newsletter now for a reminder on release day.

The Royal Heartbreakers Series

Leopold unfolds over the course of six novels, released every three weeks. Each follows the continuing story of Prince Leopold of Montovia and Dr. Eleanor Parker. Leopold is the first of the Royal Heartbreakers Series.

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Leopold

Part One (July 5, 2016)

Part Two (July 26, 2016)

Part Three (August 16, 2016)

Part Four (September 6, 2016)

Part Five (September 27, 2016)

Part Six (October 18, 2016) ~ Full-length novel

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ANDREW - Part One will be available November 1, 2016

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