The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

For long moments, neither of them spoke. When Juliana couldn’t take it any longer, she strode to the control panel and hit the emergency button. Nothing. There was a button with an old-fashioned phone painted on it. She hit that. A mournful beep answered her. Then, there was only silence.

She drifted back to the opposite wall, putting as much space between them as she could. She oozed down to the floor like a well-cooked spaghetti noodle. With nothing left to do but wait, she fidgeted with the red silk, placing it precisely on her legs to avoid any wrinkles in case they got out of there in time to go to dinner. She kept her head down but stole quick looks over to Rowan.

Rowan banged his head. Then, with a deep sigh, he looked over at her. “Is there a reason you needed to stop the elevator?” His voice was well modulated, like he was addressing a three-year-old who had filled the bathtub with too many bubbles.

“I thought we should strategize before we walked into dinner.”

He studied her, and she held his gaze, refusing to look away. He surprised her when he said, “Fair enough.”

She resisted the urge to say, Really? and smile at him. He didn’t deserve her smiles. Instead, she tilted her head and put the burden on him. “Explain,” she gently ordered.

The left side of his mouth twitched, like he was amused. “I should have prepared you for the dinner tonight.”

She stiffened under his implication. She didn’t need him to prepare her. Juliana had grown up with expectations of readiness. From the time of her birth, she’d been trained to be equipped for any situation or change of situation. Like a chameleon, adaptation determined their survival. Even if an atomic surprise bloomed like a mushroom cloud above her, she’d figure out a way to present the right face to whoever pressed the nuclear button. So, for him to treat her like a child, yeah, that didn’t fly at all. She glared at him.

He chuckled. “We should have talked about dinner tonight.” He paused. “Better?”

It was better. And so was his laugh. It made rare appearances; an endangered species or myth, like Bigfoot. She smiled involuntarily because of it.

Then, remembering his question, she said, “Yes.”

He adjusted his leg and shifted around a bit, looking to get comfortable. “When the crown prince sent word, all I could envision was this very Victorian exchange. The crown prince and I discussing dowries. I honestly didn’t know what to tell you or how to get ready for it.”

Juliana’s look questioned him.

“Vi has been reading to me. She’s into Regency romance, and dowries has suddenly become part of my vocabulary.”

Juliana snickered, thinking about Rowan’s little sister reading romance novels out loud to him. She couldn’t help it when she said, “Even the sex scenes?”

Rowan actually blushed. “Believe it or not, yes. At first, I was too out of it to really notice. But lately, I have been noticing. And thinking, why is a fifteen-year-old reading this? It embarrasses me more than her.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said, laughing.

He joined her, and for a moment, there was complete accord between them. A comfort with each other they rarely enjoyed. She could imagine hanging out with him and liking it. They smiled at each other for a prolonged heartbeat. Flutters jangled in Juliana’s stomach, and warmth suffused every single place in her body. Smiling Rowan was lethal. It made him far more dangerous to her. She didn’t want to like him too much. He seemed to think the same because he looked away from her to the elevator panel, as if he could will it to move with his mind.

“I’ve pushed us into some dangerous territory,” he mused. “Somehow, we are engaged, and now, you are going to be responsible for taking care of me after my surgery.”

She shrugged but knew he couldn’t see her as he remained focused on the front of the space.

“I’m not sure we should complicate an already-complicated situation with sex.”

Juliana’s face registered her shock, but she covered it quickly. She’d naively thought they wouldn’t have to talk about what had happened. She’d hoped he would think she was sophisticated enough to be okay with it. Or maybe him talking to her about it was him thinking she was.

“You’re right, of course,” she responded, her voice as modulated as Siri.

Siri, what is worse than engaging in sexual play with a man you are not sure you really like?

The man you are not sure you really like telling you that you shouldn’t complicate the situation with sex.

Rowan slowly turned his head, his eyes finding hers. “But then you show up, looking like you, and all I really want to do is bury myself inside of you.”

Juliana blinked. One. Slow. Long. Blink. Then, her body seemed to lean toward him. An inexorable pull.

“I wasn’t ignoring you when you arrived tonight. I was building a tall, thick wall between us. Because the more I’m around you, the harder it is for me to keep my hands to myself.” He shook his head. “And quite frankly, I am not physically able to follow through on any of things I am imagining in my X-rated fantasies.” He took a deep breath. “And sitting here, in a confined space, with the scent of you surrounding me and watching as your pupils dilate and your lips part …” He sucked in an audible breath as his hands fisted at his sides.

Juliana clamped her lips together, but she couldn’t look away. His brown eyes blazed, firing across the space between them. It was a physical caress. Beneath his gaze, her nipples hardened. She moved to cross her arms, but he shook his head, and they fell to her lap. When his eyes dropped and focused on her breasts, they seemed to beg for his attention, growing heavy under his perusal. Her breath hitched, and he smiled when he heard it. She dropped her head back, baring her neck. She was more exposed than she’d ever been on a runway or in front of any camera. Her body was on fire, and he was stoking it merely by watching. An erotic haze engulfed them. The scent of arousal invaded the confined space. He inhaled, and she knew he smelled the heat of her body, as if it burned for him. He wasn’t even touching her, yet she sensed his focus.

“Come to me,” he demanded on a whisper.

She didn’t think twice. She rose to her knees, pulling the dress from beneath her, and crept toward him. His hand snaked around her and pulled her to his side just as the elevator shot up.

When it came to a stop, Juliana was standing, pressed into the opposite corner.