I can’t stop thinking about Tessa. It’s been twenty-four hours since I visited her flower shop. Twenty-four hours since I saw her pink cheeks and kissed her pink lips. Twenty-four hours since she told me—again—that she owed me for saving her life.

I can’t help wondering if that’s why she didn’t push me away when I kissed her. At the time, when my tongue was in her mouth, it seemed like she was more than happy to have it there.

Perhaps I misread the situation. Perhaps I was the only one who was happy to have my tongue in her mouth. 

In the past, every time I kissed a woman, I knew she was kissing Prince Leo of Alsania. It’s something that’s always bothered me—the knowledge that these women were more interested in being my country’s future queen than being with me. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been interested in anything more than a casual fuck.

When I kissed Tessa, I knew she was kissing me. I had no doubt about that.

The question is: Why did she kiss me?

Did she accept my kiss because she feels like she owes me? Did she kiss me back because she thought she had to?

A low growl rumbles from my throat. You know what’s worse than a pity fuck? An “I owe you” fuck.

Pure, undiluted rage shoots through my veins, propelling me down the corridor. I’d rather go without sex for the rest of my damn life than fuck a woman who thinks she owes me a damn thing.

I want Tessa Lulach more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to make her come so many times she loses her voice from screaming my name.

But I’m never going to touch her again. I won’t call her, no matter how much I want to hear her voice, and I won’t stop by her flower shop, no matter how much I want to see her flyaway hair and teasing smile.

An antique rug in a maroon-and-gold pattern muffles my hard footsteps as I make the trek from my home office to the second floor. When I reach my suite, I throw open the heavy wooden door. Though I’m tempted to slam it behind me, I close it with an almost inaudible click.

Marco’s the door slammer, not me. I have far more self-control.

He’s fire. I’m ice.

I move deeper into my suite, which consists of a living area, bedroom, dressing room, and bathroom. The space is massive—bigger than most Alsanians’ houses—but it’s much smaller than my apartment at the palace in Circo.

Last year, I hired an interior designer to redecorate my entire suite at Helios. She got rid of the forest-green-and-cream color scheme that had been there for years and replaced it with deep wine and silvery gray. The updated décor suits me much better. No more floral, paisley, or plaid, thank God. 

I retrieve my phone from the inside pocket of my light blue suit jacket. Checking the screen, I see it’s almost three o’clock.

I just finished a two-hour conference call with the analysts who evaluate investment opportunities for Alsania’s sovereign wealth fund, which provides retirement income to our citizens. I chair the twelve-person committee that manages the fund, and I’m glad my assistant was there to take notes because I couldn’t focus.

I don’t have anything else on my schedule today, and I could have tea with my mother and brother. When Queen Eleanor is in residence at Helios, she follows tradition and enjoys high tea in the family dining room. My father and I rarely partake, but Marco joins her every day. He wakes up so late it’s his breakfast.

After a moment of consideration, I decide to skip tea and go for a ride. I need to do something to douse the anger still smoldering inside me, and Pablo could use the workout.

I change into a red polo shirt and tan riding breeches and pull on my worn black boots. After tucking a beige cap into my back pocket, I leave my suite and head toward the stairs that lead to the main floor.

As I turn the corner, I see Marco coming from the opposite direction, sauntering toward the stairs. To my surprise, he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under a cream-colored linen vest and matching trousers instead of his usual summer uniform of faded T-shirt and baggy plaid shorts.

We reach the stairs at the same time. “What’s with the clothes?” I ask. “Did you get tired of being mistaken for a bum?”

Marco laughs. “That only happened once.” He gestures to the stairs. “After you, Your Royal Highness.”

I start down the stairs with my brother a step behind me. “So why are you wearing a suit ... or half a suit?”

“Mother invited a visitor for tea.”

As the Queen of Alsania, my mother juggles a full social calendar, but she rarely invites visitors to Helios. She considers the estate to be our private residence, as opposed to the palace, which is open to the public for daily tours.

“And whom did she invite?”

“Miss Lulach.”

Shock makes me stumble, and I miss the next step. As I grab for the bannister, Marco uses the weight of his body to slam me against the railing. Luckily, I manage to stay upright. 

“Fuck!” He shouts right into my ear. “Watch where you’re going, Leo! I don’t want to be Alsania’s next king!”

I can’t help laughing. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

“Asshole.”

My brother shoves away and jogs down the rest of the stairs. He’s waiting for me when I reach the bottom. 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Marco says, his voice serious and low-pitched.

He spins toward the wide corridor that leads to the dining room, and I lunge forward to hook my hand over his shoulder. “Hold up.”

He knocks my hand off his shoulder and turns to face me. “What?” he demands, belligerence dripping off the word.

“Mother invited Tessa to tea?”

“Yes. She arrived a few minutes ago.”

Last night, I notified the queen that I spoke with Tessa about the media tour and explained that she needed a couple of days to decide whether she wanted to participate. I know my mother was disappointed that Tessa didn’t immediately agree, but I didn’t expect her to take matters into her own hands. 

I stride past Marco, heading toward the dining room. I was struggling to contain my anger before I knew that my mother ignored my wishes and invited Tessa to Helios. Now, my anger has escaped its cage.

“Where are you going?” my brother asks, hot on my heels. “The stables are the other direction.”

“I know where the fucking stables are.”

Marco makes a funny noise—a combination of a laugh, a cough, and a snort. “Looks like there will be four for tea today.”

Less than a minute later, I’m entering the dining room. Like a heat-seeking missile, my gaze skips over the queen, who’s seated at the head of the table, and stops on Tessa. She’s perched in a side chair next to my mother, holding a cup of tea. Her green eyes widen when she sees me, and her glossy mouth opens in a small O.

I stop at the foot of the table. Inclining my head, I say, “Good afternoon, Miss Lulach.”

Tessa drops her cup to the saucer with a clatter and jumps out of the chair as if the cushion morphed into a cobra. Her dress, the deep purple of the sky at twilight, flutters around her hips. 

“Good afternoon ... um”—she licks her lips, visibly nervous—“Your Royal Highness.”

I grit my teeth at the formal title. Yes, it’s the correct way for Tessa to address me, but I want her to call me Leo, dammit.

As Tessa settles into her chair, Marco halts next to me. Turning my attention to the queen, I say, “Mother, I need to speak with you privately.”

She glances at Tessa before bringing her gaze back to me. “We’re in the middle of tea,” she replies, lifting her cup a bit.

I pace the length of the room and stop beside her. “It will only take a moment.” Swiping the cup from her hand, I return it to the saucer before pulling her chair away from the table.

Clearly displeased by my rudeness, she sniffs. “Fine.” She gracefully rises. “Miss Lulach, please excuse me for a moment. Marco, please introduce yourself to Miss Lulach and keep her entertained while I speak to your brother.”

The moment my mother steps over the threshold into the corridor, I pull the huge double doors shut with a bang. The loud noise makes her jump.

“Where are your manners today?” she snaps. “Were all those etiquette lessons wasted?”

Glaring down at her, I ask, “Why is Miss Lulach here?”

“To drink tea and eat cake.”

Her flippant answer pisses me off. “The truth. Now.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to me, Leo.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And I don’t appreciate the way you went behind my back and invited Tessa to tea when I expressly ordered you not to.”

“Ordered me not to?” Her chin lifts to a haughty angle. “Do I need to remind you that I’m not only your mother but also your queen?”

Moving closer, I use my height to intimidate her. “I told you that Tessa needs time to think about the media tour. I’m not going to allow you to manipulate her and convince her to do something she doesn’t want to do, especially when it’s not in her best interests.”

“I’m more concerned about your best interests.”

“You and I both know the media attention will tear her life apart.” I shake my head. “I don’t want her to go through that.”

My mother’s gaze remains steady on mine. “Is Miss Lulach important to you, Leo?”

Her question hits me square in the chest, like a battering ram crashing into a fortified door. Every part of me—every organ, every nerve, every cell—is shouting Yes!

I haven’t lied to my mother since I was a child, and I’m not going to lie to her now. But I’m not ready to talk to anyone about my feelings for Tessa. They’re too new, and more important, I don’t know how she feels about me, beyond her unnecessary and unwanted gratitude. 

Marco has told me a million times that deflecting is not the same as lying. Today, I agree with him.

“Don’t you think Tessa has been through enough?” I ask.

My mother doesn’t reply for a long moment. Finally, she nods. “Yes. She’s been through a lot.”

“Too much.”

She exhales a soft sigh. “I apologize. I should have respected your wishes and let you handle Miss Lulach.”

“And?”

My mother’s mouth curves into a smile. “And I won’t mention the media tour.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” I lean down and kiss her smooth cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?”

“Scuba diving,” I answer dryly before waving a hand from my head to my feet. “Where does it look like I’m going?”

Even though my anger has cooled, I still could use a good, hard ride to take my mind off ... everything. Especially the redhead currently sitting at the dining table on the other side of these doors. 

“You can’t go out riding now,” my mother protests. “Miss Lulach will wonder why you disappeared. You must have tea with us.”

I don’t waste any breath arguing because I know she’s right. I’ll still have time for a long ride after Tessa goes home. During the summer, the sun doesn’t set on Helios until well after eight o’clock.

Returning to the dining room, I see that Marco took the seat next to Tessa. And just like that, my anger is back, burning hotter than ever and directed at my brother—the Playboy Prince, the royal everyone adores.

Does Tessa adore Marco too? Would she kiss my younger brother if he made a move on her, not because she feels grateful but just because she wants to?

“Leo, why are you looming over us like a thundercloud?” my mother asks.

Her question spurs me to take a seat next to her and directly across from Tessa. Maybe Marco did me a favor—my spot allows me to see her entire face, not just her profile. 

I try to focus on the conversation for the first few minutes, but I’m too distracted by Tessa. I spend the next hour watching her eat tiny lemon and raspberry cakes with thick white icing.

With every flick of her tongue, my cock gets harder and harder until I’m hiding a full-fledged erection under my napkin. Right now, I’d happily give away all the royal jewels in exchange for having Tessa on her knees with my cock in her mouth. I want to see her lips iced with my cum.

Trying to distract myself from the inappropriate thoughts filling my head, I tune into the conversation. Tessa is talking about the best hedge species to create mazes, her face animated and her eyes sparkling.

My mother and Marco are hanging on Tessa’s every word, apparently enthralled with the subject of hedges. Who knew they were so interesting?

My brother places his hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “Miss Lulach, it would be my sincerest pleasure to give you a tour of our gardens and hedge maze...”

Before I can voice my objection, Marco’s gaze sweeps over me. “Unfortunately, I don’t have room in my schedule today.”

I eye my younger brother with disbelief. As far as I know, he has nothing more to do than play video games and practice his golf putt on the portable green in his suite.

“Leo was planning to go for a ride after tea,” Marco adds, “but perhaps he’d be willing to give you a tour instead? Would you like that?”

Tessa meets my eyes over the table and her lips tilt into a smile. “I’d love that.”