Enticing Liam (Big Sky Royal 2)

She lets her head fall back again and mutters, “Damn.”

“Eleanor—”

“No.” She holds up a hand and lifts her head so she can level me with narrowed blue eyes. “We’re talking about sex and nakedness. I think you can call me Ellie. Not Your Highness or Princess or Eleanor.”

“Ellie.” I clear my throat. “You don’t really want what you’re asking.”

She smirks and pulls a knee up to her chest. For protection or because of nervousness, I’m not sure. “Because I’m young, and I don’t know my own mind?”

This is a trick question. “No, because you don’t know me, and I’m telling you, I’m not the man who should be teaching you about these things. You should find someone kinder, softer. Gentler.”

“Well, that sounds bloody boring,” she counters and then tips her head to the side. “I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid, Liam. I’m old enough to know myself and what I want.”

“And you think that’s me.”

She licks her lips, and it’s almost my undoing. Ellie has the kind of lips you don’t just want to kiss. You want to explore them. Bite. Sink in and live there for a few good hours because the glories that a man is sure to discover and experience are endless.

Her curves turn me inside out. Her hair is thick and begs to be twisted around my fingers.

And that view I got of her bare back last night kept me up into the wee hours of the morning with a hard-on that rivaled granite.

I want her.

But I’m not right for her. That I know for sure. I’ve seen too much. Done horrible things.

None of that should ever touch her.

Ellie leans forward and keeps her eyes steady on mine. “I haven’t made it a secret since the day I met you that I find you attractive, Liam. Yes, I want you. But I’m not a child, and you said no. So, the answer is no. Don’t worry, we won’t have any issues.”

That’s the right answer. I should nod and go about my day, leave it in the past, forget it ever happened.

But I can’t ignore the look of hurt in her eyes. She’s put on a brave face, but I see the pain all the same.

I don’t want to hurt Ellie—or anyone for that matter. But I’m not the right man for her to tumble into bed with.

I have a job to do.

“I have a nail appointment in an hour,” she says, ending the conversation. “I’ll be down in forty-five minutes.”

She’s dismissed me. I nod and stand, then walk toward the stairs leading down to the door.

“She okay?”

I turn to find Nina smiling, holding a basket of pastries.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I have a headache the size of Beverly Hills,” she says with a wince. “That’ll teach me to drink too much wine. Muffin?”

“No, thanks.”

“I wish you guys would eat more,” she mutters as she walks through the door. Before it closes, I hear her call out, “I bring food!”

I have things to do in headquarters before I take Ellie to her appointment. I need to consult with Charles on a few things, and I have some paperwork to see to.

But Ellie is always at the forefront of my mind.

* * *

“Oh, what a cute little shop,” Ellie says as I park in front of a salon called The Style Studio. It’s next door to Asana Yoga Studio, with a girly front window full of fussy things and signs advertising hair, nails, and lash services. “I never get to go out for this kind of thing. My nail and hair techs always come to the palace for me. This is a treat.”

“What do people do to their lashes?” I can’t help but ask.

“Extensions, lifting, color,” Ellie lists as she gathers her bag, and I get out to then open her door. She smiles up at me. “Do you like mine?”

“Your lashes?”

“Yes.” She flutters them for my benefit.

“They’re not real?”

She chuckles and shrugs a shoulder. “Well, mine are in there, but I do have extensions. I keep them light and natural, but it’s awesome because I rarely have to wear mascara, and if I don’t want to wear makeup at all, it’s no big deal.”

I stare at her, blinking slowly.

“I’ve lost you,” she guesses.

“Being a woman is damn complicated.”

Ellie laughs at me, and I hold the salon door open for her. We both walk in.

It smells like chemicals. Music plays through invisible speakers. There are four hair stations, two nail stations, and a receptionist’s desk.

“I’m Ellie,” Ellie tells the receptionist.

“Of course. Welcome, Your Highness.” The young girl smiles politely. “I have you down for a manicure and a blowout.”

“That’s right.”

I step back and keep an eye on the shop as Ellie’s shown to a seat at one of the nail stations.

Aspen Calhoun, the new owner of Drips & Sips, is getting her hair cut nearby and smiles and says hello to Ellie. They’re deep in conversation when I see my cousin, Lauren, walk through a door in the back of the room.