Simply Sensual (Simply 3)

Her voice captured his attention and he walked around to her side of the truck and took in her outfit. He looked her up and down thoroughly—just as she’d hoped. Then he flipped his sunglasses off and hung them on an empty belt loop.

“For a better look?” she asked with a grin.

A muscle worked in his jaw, and if Grace had to bet, that rigid control of his was hanging by a delicate thread. He exhaled hard. “Get back to work before the landlord revokes my washing privileges,” he muttered.

Mission accomplished, she thought and let out a sigh of relief. This being naughty was not only fun, but she wasn’t too bad at it, either.

Grace saluted and climbed back into the car. “I haven’t had the chance to do anything like this in a while,” she called out to him. “When my brother turned sixteen, he got his first car. A brand-new…” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d spoken without thinking and swallowed a curse, wishing she could choke on the words to avoid revealing the truth.

Why was it all the little facts of her childhood she’d taken for granted before embarrassed her now that Ben had come into her life? Even when she’d decided to forego her trust fund, she hadn’t been quite as ashamed of her background. She shook her head. Well, shame was a good thing. It would teach her humility and help her appreciate all the things she now worked to achieve.

He paused, obviously picking up on the silence. “Brand-new what?”

“Porsche,” she said under her breath.

He let out a slow whistle. “Nice.”

She cringed and held on to the futile hope he’d change the subject.

“And what did the princess get when she turned sixteen?” he asked.

So much for hoping. She crinkled her nose and glanced up at him. “The princess?” She hoped he caught the disdain for the term in her voice. She wanted him to appreciate her as a down-to-earth woman.

He braced his arm on the roof and leaned into the car. “You. Princess Grace.”

His face was so close she had the desire to reach out and touch the razor stubble on his cheeks. To play with the fire he aroused. But she suddenly wanted more between them than pure sexual attraction.

She wanted him to both like and respect her, the way she liked and respected him. She might not know much about him, but his character spoke volumes. He was a knight in shining armor, helping the underprivileged and caring for damsels in distress. She stifled a laugh, knowing he wouldn’t enjoy her description.

She didn’t want to be the unattainable princess in the locked tower. “Is that how you see me?”

* * *

Ben caught the disappointment in her tone and felt like a heel for using an obviously sensitive subject to his advantage. He didn’t understand why her background always sent her running for cover, not when she was making an independent stand now.

“Princess,” he murmured, repeating the word, softer this time. “Is calling you that such a bad thing?”

She raised her hand to touch his cheek. “If it puts me out of your reach it is.”

But that’s where he needed to be—out of her reach. So, he’d used the term princess on purpose. Considering her brazen assault, he’d figured he could be forgiven for treading on touchy ground. Now that he saw the vulnerability in her eyes, he wasn’t so sure the ends justified the means.

“I meant it in the nicest possible way.” The excuse sounded pathetic even to his ears.

She snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right. Okay, this isn’t the first time you’ve asked or alluded, so I’ll tell you all about my background, okay? I come from a wealthy New England family, just like you thought. An uptight, staid, don’t-embarrass-us-or-betray-your-roots kind of clan. We’ve got political tradition dating back to the early 1900s and not one divorce in our history. Want to know why?”

He heard the bitterness in her tone and regretted opening this can of worms. He hated having caused her the least bit of pain.

“Why?” he asked, partly because she expected him to but mostly because she so obviously wanted to get this out in the open between them.

“Because Montgomerys don’t divorce, they endure.” Her features contorted in disgust at what sounded like the family motto. “For the last five or six generations, the Montgomerys did what was expected. They married the so-called right people. The result was miserable unions, infidelities, unhappy children they ignored—none of it mattered as long as outside perception was good.” She shook her head in dismay.

Ben didn’t attempt to stop the explanation he knew hurt her badly.

“My brother, Logan, was the first to break the mold, and I’m proud of him. Not for betraying his heritage but because he’s happy. Me? I’m working on it. But in the meantime, yes, I’ve learned the art of perfection in public and maybe that’s where that princess image you have of me comes in. It’s so deeply ingrained I don’t even realize how I’m behaving half the time.” Her shoulders dropped in relief. As if by revealing she’d released a huge burden.

Ben didn’t kid himself. Just because Logan had broken free didn’t mean Grace would be able to do the same. That public perfection she’d mentioned was apparent in the way she carried herself, although less so in the way she acted. And damn, but it was just one of the things that drew him to her. Amazing that the world he disdained had shaped the woman he desired.

She was a woman with shadows lurking in her eyes right now. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her from the memories he’d evoked. Because it would only complicate things, he refrained.