Ella stood at the back of the gardens, clutching Phillip’s latest letter, squinting for any sign of the king. Maybe today they would finally get some quality alone time. So far over the course of their secret fling they’d met in a hothouse, the kitchens, and a hidden study, but the security detail or the cooks or some other interfering busybodies were always within view. They hadn’t managed so much as a second kiss, much less had the chance to explore any of the steamier options outlined in their letters. They’d had to keep to their cover—her showing him spreadsheets and charts, detailing which woman would make the best queen. Daphne had already lost interest in the contest for the king, having found a member of the security detail far flirtier, but Ella almost had Phillip convinced that Anna would make the best match.

Which was a good thing. It was what she’d come here to do, and it was still her plan. A few sexy nights with the king—at least, she hoped she’d eventually get a few sexy nights—wouldn’t change that ultimate outcome. But still, her heart ached every time she handed him another research detail confirming Anna as his best choice of future wife. And not just because she was finding herself more and more reluctant to give Phillip to another woman, queen or no. She also couldn’t help but feel guilty because she knew all Anna cared about was curing cancer, something the queen would have no time for.

She shook herself. Tonight wasn’t about the wife hunt. Tonight was about him and her, and maybe a bed. Or a wall. Or a shower.

She fanned herself with the letter, then perked up when she heard the roar of the motorcycle. He rode them so often she was starting to distinguish them by sound. Judging from that extra-guttural snarl, this one had to be either the Confederate or the classic Harley.

He rounded the corner on a gunmetal-gray bike. Ah, the Confederate. Phillip smiled that adorable, boyish smile and tossed her a helmet. “Come on!” he called. “We’re finally getting our privacy.”

She gave the helmet the stink-eye.

“What?” he asked.

She sighed and undid her tidy ponytail, stuffing her head into the thing. “My stepmother is going to know something’s up if my hair is always in a snarl from riding on your bikes.” She buckled the strap beneath her chin.

Perceptive as always, Phillip tilted his head. “What’s really wrong?”

Her hands fell back to her sides. “Nothing new. I’m just constantly torn between my stepmother’s wishes and reality, that’s all.” She tried for a cavalier shrug. “It’s hard, always being the one who has to orchestrate the fantasy. She wants me to make their gowns look like brand-new designer couture when they’re nearly ten years old and the moths have gotten to them. And now that Daphne’s out of the running in the Summer House Party my stepmother wants me to find her another potential husband, and it’s always ‘hurry up Ella, you’re so good at these things, what do you mean you can’t make two people fall in love with each other?’”

Phillip frowned. “Perhaps it’s time you followed your own heart, and stopped letting her order you around.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled. “I can’t help it. I’m always so nice. So dutiful.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do duties always have to be a burden?”

“Not for you, maybe. You’re the king. You can do anything you want.”

His ducked his head, and loose strands of that gorgeous, godlike hair fell over his eyes. “Not anything,” he murmured, and she frowned at his tone, but then it was gone and he was smiling at her again. “So tell me, Ms. Dutiful, if you were completely free and you could do anything you wanted right now, what would it be?”

You, she wanted to say, but swallowed it down. There were still two guards within earshot. “How about some exploring?” she said instead, then had to laugh at herself. “It’s funny, I’ve spent so much time and effort trying to escape Danovar, but now I’m kind of falling in love with the place. I think it’s the stars. They’re so bright and sharp here. They never look like that in the States.”

Phillip grinned and motioned her to climb on. “Come, then. That’s one wish I’d be happy to indulge.”

Ella grinned like a schoolgirl as she clambered on behind him. Sometimes he sounded so normal she forgot who he was, but then a turn of phrase would remind her she was with the freakin’ King of Danovar, and she got that delicious, secret little thrill all over again. She couldn’t help it—what girl hadn’t daydreamed about falling for royalty?

She shook herself. She wasn’t “falling for” him. She was having a fling with him. There was a huge difference, and it was best she remember it, along with her all-important goal for the Summer House Party.

Twenty minutes later, Phillip pulled the bike over at his destination: a ruined watchtower, hauntingly beautiful. Not that Ella had much attention to devote to its beauty, since her hair was, as predicted, a total mess. She grumbled as she tried to pat it back down.

Phillip leaned the bike against one of the crumbling walls, giving her a sexy smirk. “I’m guessing you didn’t watch that messy bun video I sent you?”

“If you think it’s snarled now, you should have seen it post-messy-bun-video,” she answered. “Extra emphasis on the messy.”

He tugged off his own helmet and came closer, reaching out to capture a strand of her hair. He rubbed it between his fingertips and she could do nothing but watch, riveted by the sight of those square, strong fingers twisting a bit of her hair between them. It made her want to see what other talents his fingers might have.

“Beautiful,” he mused, his smoldering eyes meeting hers for a moment, and she caught her breath. “Let me see what I can do.” And then both hands were in her hair, tugging gently and twisting carefully, and her knees just about buckled at his touch. “I’ve always loved this color,” he added. His smug tone said he knew exactly the effect he was having on her, and that he was enjoying the hell out of it.

She licked her lips and tried to distract herself. There was still one member of his security detail within view, but damn it, that man better get his ass over the hill in the next thirty seconds or she could not be held responsible for what he was about to see. “Actually, I have a secret,” she told Phillip. “It’s dyed.”

He laughed. “No. Really?”

“Oh yeah. It used to be brown. I guess I was ready for a change.”

With one final tug, he finished whatever he was doing to her hair. She couldn’t see it, but it felt comfortable and stayed in place rather than falling in her eyes. And judging from that possessive, satisfied look on Phillip’s place, she looked damned hot, too.

His gaze slid back down to her eyes and the connection between them went molten. “Might I be rewarded for a job well done?” he asked softly.

“Oh, hell yes you might,” she said, and grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him down to her. She didn’t know if the guard was still in view but she no longer cared about anything other than what she was finally, finally doing right now. She was so hungry for him, so full of wanting that she ached with it.

Their lips met again and, even though she’d meant for this kiss to be a little slower and more exploratory, it instantly went hot and aching and desperate just like last time. She couldn’t get enough of him. It had never been like this before, not with any of her prior boyfriends—not that there’d been all that many of those. But with Phillip, it was like she couldn’t get close enough. She wanted to be all tangled up with this man, wanted him wrapped around her, his heavy weight holding her down, his hard cock buried deep inside her, so much that she couldn’t think about anything else.

She nipped at the glorious stubble on his jaw and he groaned, putting both hands on her ass and squeezing, picking her up. She wrapped both legs around him this time, crossed her ankles at his back and shifted a little lower until she found the perfect spot. She squirmed against him, right there, and oh God he was so hard already—and quite sizable too, from what she could tell. He groaned and his kiss gained an edge, flushing her with desire.

She broke away. “Up against the wall,” she panted. “Or fast and rough on the floor. Anywhere, as long as it’s right now.”

He looked at her, his eyes heavy-lidded as she quoted his letter. “Your wish is my command,” he murmured in a voice rough with desire. He started backing her toward the castle’s wall—

And a throat cleared behind them. A member of the security detail, discreetly looking the other way, but present nonetheless.

Ella all but growled. Damn it, would she never get any alone time with her would-be lover?

“Apologies, Your Highness, but it’s time for your next appointment with the eligible ladies.”

Phillip drooped, setting Ella down gently with a deep sigh. “Duty calls,” he said, regret heavy in his gaze.

She nodded tightly. “Of course,” she said, but then narrowed her eyes. “We will finish this later. Right?”

His smile was slow and suggestive as he stepped back, looked her up and down. “Of that, you can be assured,” he said. He picked up her hand, bowed over it, and kissed her fingers. Hell, he would go all kingly on her again when he knew she couldn’t do anything about it. But such was the downside of having a fling with royalty, she supposed. She would always take second place to his obligations.

Unless she let him convince her to put her name in the running for queen. Then, their business could be official and there would be so much less to interrupt them. It would be just him and her, sex under the stars and his hands in her hair and that adorable, boyish smile forever.

Her lips tightened as she climbed on the bike behind him. No. She knew her future, and as much as she might wish he could be in it long-term, it just wasn’t meant to be.

But so help her God, they would have at least one night together. She would make sure of it.

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