The Wicked Prince

“Maybe we should look for a woman for you in America then.” I raised an eyebrow. Aramis chuckled, that deep laughter that made my throat catch and my heart seize.

“I don’t think we need to start jumping continents to find someone, Joslyn.”

“We might as well. There don’t seem to be enough women here for you. At least not suitable ones to your standards.”

“I don’t believe I ever said that.” He squinted and fought a smile as he twirled a gray scarf around his neck.

“You didn’t have to outright say it.” I started walking to the door, while he trailed behind me, shutting the door behind us. “By the way, how did I end up in your bed last night?”

“I carried you there.” He said it so matter-of-fact, I stopped dead in my tracts and stared up at him. He still looked entirely too amused by all of this.

“I know that, but why?”

“Because you fell asleep on the couch.”

“You could have woken me up and let me go to my cottage or the third bedroom.”

“I could have.” He shrugged a shoulder, pausing at the side door that led to the stables.

“So why didn’t you?”

“You ask too many questions.” Aramis shook his head, opening and letting go of the door as we walked into the area. “Too many of the wrong questions.”

“What are the right questions?” I frowned, pausing momentarily as he walked ahead. The sound of the latch clicking behind me set me into motion again and I sped up. “What are the right questions?”

He sighed heavily, turning back to me. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“What?”

“It’s not a matter of why I didn’t wake you up, it’s a matter of why wouldn’t I want you in my bed?”

My heart thumped louder as his words sank in. His expression turned mischievous, the way it often did, the kind my head and heart constantly battled against. He took one step closer to me, too close. The wind picked up and whirled around us. He brought a hand up and brushed a strand of hair back into my high ponytail, and chuckled when the strand fell right back down. His proximity, the scent of his familiar cologne, and the way his gaze seemed to burn into mine were making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. When I finally did catch my breath, it was to denounce this, whatever this was.

“We can’t do this,” I breathed.

“Do what?”

“This pretend-dating thing you want to do. This . . . whatever this is.”

“Why not?” He didn’t even bother to wipe away his amusement. All it did was tick me off.

“Because we can’t.” I stepped away and waved a hand toward him. “You’re being too nice to me. No one is going to buy into that.”

“I can’t be nice?” he laughed.

“Not to someone you don’t want to fuck, no.”

“Well, then, I can’t disagree there.” He shrugged a shoulder.

My mouth fell open. Was he saying . . . was he . . . did he want to . . . with me? Me? I blinked, shaking my head. Surely not. “I’m not going to be a notch on your bedpost. Again. I refuse to be one.”

“That’s fair.”

“So then . . . ” I shook my head again. “I don’t understand you.”

“I don’t understand you either, so we’re even.”

“I want to just be friends. Be cordial. Be able to work with you and do my job well. That’s it.”

“Your job is literally to find me a suitor and you already agreed to pretend to be my suitor, so I think you’ve done quite a good job.”

“Pretending to be your girlfriend is not part of my job description.”

“It is now.” He looked me straight in the eye.

“I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t do this.”

“You want to keep your job, right?”

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“So you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend. Otherwise, I have no use for you and you won’t need this job title.”

“Are you threatening to fire me?” My mouth fell open. “Must I remind you that it’s not you I answer to, but the King and Pilar as well?”

“Must I remind you that the King is my brother and will side with me on anything?”

“Must I remind you that the Queen is my best friend and has the King wrapped around her pinky?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool, all the while my blood was boiling and he was as cool as a cucumber. I wanted to punch him. I clenched my fists and held them tightly at my sides so I wouldn’t succumb to that.

“Look, it’s simple. You need a job. I need a girlfriend. We’re friends. You know me better than anyone. Besides, you already agreed to this.”

“Friends?” I shouted. “You think we’re friends? Did you . . . do you hear yourself when you speak to me?”

He cocked his head and nodded a few times. “I need to work on that.”