Married for the Prince's Convenience

Bypassing the simple, lamplit living room furnished with more love seats and twin sofas festooned with cushions, Reyes walked her into the bathroom and set her down on a pedestal next to a wide porcelain sink.

He stepped back and turned on the tap in the extra-wide bath.

‘Umm...is one of us taking a bath?’

His mouth tilted. ‘I thought you might want to wash your feet since you’ve been walking in the grass.’

Jasmine looked down at her feet. ‘Oh, I guess that’s a good idea, what with the wall-to-wall white carpeting.’

She started to step down from her perch. He stayed her with a hand on her waist and leaned over to add bath salts to the warm water.

This close, his scent assailed her, claimed her senses. When he breathed his body moved against hers.

This was getting out of hand...

Despite the thought trailing through her head, she stayed where she was.

Once the water reached a quarter way, he turned to her. ‘Lift up your dress.’

She tugged the material up her hips. He picked her up and sat her on the edge of the tub. Expecting him to leave her to it, she gave a small gasp when he dropped to his knees beside her.

Grabbing a washcloth, Reyes dipped it in the scented water and started to clean her feet.

The punch of feeling through her chest made her jerk. He looked up, took her arm and slid it around his shoulders. ‘Hold on to me if you think you’re slipping.’

Nodding dumbly, she held on. Traced her fingers over the strands of hair at his nape. Her fingers brushed his skin. A rough sound escaped his throat. The soothing cloth cleansed her feet.

Jasmine looked from Reyes’s arresting profile to what he was doing. She, Jasmine Nichols, originally from one of the roughest neighbourhoods in London, had a bona fide prince washing her feet.

The moment couldn’t get more surreal than this. And yet she didn’t want it to end.

‘You have the most perfect feet,’ Reyes murmured.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice emerged as shaky as she felt inside.

He raised his head and pierced her with eyes wild with raw, predatory hunger. ‘The most perfect legs.’ His wet hands cupped her ankles, drifted up over her calves.

Jasmine forgot to breathe. Her hand gripped his nape, her only stability in a world careening out of control.

‘The most perfect thighs.’

‘Reyes...’

His gaze dropped to her lips. Her heartbeat spiked a second before his mouth claimed hers.

Groaning, she fell into the kiss, wrapped both arms around his neck when he lifted her out of the tub and out of the bathroom. He returned to the living room and lowered her in front of the fireplace.

Lowering his body on top of hers, he deepened the kiss, ravaged her mouth with an appetite that grew sharper, rougher by the minute. His hand trailed up her leg, her thigh, to close over her bottom.

They both groaned when he squeezed her flesh. ‘Dios, you’re perfect,’ he breathed into the side of her neck when he let her up for air.

But she didn’t want breathing room, didn’t want even the slightest doubt to mar this incredible moment.

Catching his jaw between her hands, she raised her mouth to his. ‘Kiss me, Reyes. Please.’

He swore again, the sound ragged. Scooping her against his chest, he rolled them over. Firm hands lowered her zip and tugged down her dress and flung it away. Then he reversed their position again. ‘Now I can kiss you properly. Everywhere.’

He devoured her lips, her throat, the tops of her breasts.

Her moans grew louder as he rolled her nipple in his mouth before sucking in a hot pull. Jasmine’s back arched, her fingers digging into his hair to keep him there, pleasuring her, torturing her. A sharp cry erupted from her lips when his teeth nipped her skin just above her panties. Rising up on her elbows, she stared down at him, drunk on the sight of what he was doing to her.

‘Reyes...’

He glanced up. The look on his face threatened to send her over the edge.

‘Do you want this, querida?’ he enquired thickly.

‘More than anything,’ she whispered.

She smothered the voice that cautioned her as to what she was doing. Her first time with this man had ended in disaster. Granted, it’d been one of her own making. But now she knew it was more than her body involved. Her heart was at risk, too.

She was in danger of falling in love with a man who would never love her.

‘I can hear you thinking.’ He paused in the line of kisses he was dotting along her pantyline. ‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’