Please Be Mine

Chapter Eleven

Keeping his back to the girl, Nick stared blankly through the glass of the President's Suite down into the stadium, struggling to gain some measure of control after what had undoubtedly been the most exciting sexual encounter of his life.

On the pitch below, England had possession of the ball, but for the first time in his life he wasn't in his seat. watching the game.

Which was something else he didn't understand.

What the hell was going on?

Why wasn't he rushing to watch the game?

And since when had he been driven to have raw, uncontrolled sex on a table with an innocent woman?

Innocent.

Only now was he realising that all the signs had been there. And he'd missed them.Or had he ignored them?

Either way, he was fully aware of the irony of the situation.

He's had relationships with some of the world's most beautiful, experienced and sophisticated women, but none of them had made him feel the way she had.

This was possibly the first time he'd enjoyed uncomplicated, motiveless sex. Sex driven by sheer, animal lust rather than human ambition.

Yes, the girl had known he was a prince.

But he was experienced enough to know that she'd wanted him as a man.

Hearing the faint brush of clothing against flesh, he knew she was dressing. For once he was grateful for the iron self-control and self-discipline that had been drilled into him in his few years in the army, because that was the only thing currently standing between restraint and a repeat performance.

It must have been novelty value, he reflected grimly, his shoulders tensing as he heard her slide her feet into her shoes.

That was the only explanation for the explosive chemistry they shared.

Which left them where, precisely?

He turned to find her watching him, and the confusion in her beautiful brown eyes turned to consternation as a discreet tap on the door indicated that his presence was required.

The girl threw an embarrassed glance towards the door and frantically smoothed her skirt over her thighs. It was obvious from the uneven line of buttons on her shirt that she'd dressed in a hurry, with hands that hadn't been quite steady. Her hair was still loose, spilling over her narrow shoulders like a fall of autumn leaves, a beacon of glorious color that effectively announced their intimacy to everyone who saw her.

Focusing on her soft mouth, Nick felt a sudden urge to pull her back against the table and lose himself in her incredible body one more time.

"They'll be waiting for you in the royal box." Her husky voice cut through his disturbingly explicit thoughts, and she hesitated for a moment and then walked over to him.

"Y-your Highness-are you alright?"

Nick stared down into warm brown eyes, saw concern there, and suddenly the urge not to let her go was almost painful. There was something hopeful and optimistic about her, and he sensed she hadn't yet discovered that life was a cold, hard place.

Her smile faltered as she studied the grim set of his features. "I guess this is what you'd call a bit of an awkward moment. So-well-" she waved a hand"-I have to get back to work and you-well..." Her voice trailed off and her white teeth clamped her lower lip. Then she took a deep breath, closed the gap between them, stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for what you've given me."