I've always been a good, level headed person. I made smart choices and worked hard, and had, until last night, managed to get through life without getting into the kind of scrapes Tessa and my other friends encountered.

I was the last person any one would suspect of rushing headlong into a sham of a marriage to a prince. So where and how have things gone so wrong?

Even as I contemplated the question, I realize that if I were sitting in a darkened movie theatre and watching this same scenario unfold on the silver screen, I’d be entranced by the comedy.

Real life is different. Instead of feeling like a romantic comedy, my situation feels like a high stress drama that keeps delivering on blow after another.

“Your parents,” I murmur, rocked back with horror.

Shelly smiles sympathetically. “They’re going to be the easy ones. My mom has wanted Lucas to get married for a long time now, and my dad is a pretty tolerant guy. The press, though. They’re going to be a challenge. We’re going to need a good cover story.”

I tug as the sheet I’m still wrapped in. “And clothes.”

“Don’t you have any?”

Lucas nods at the crumbled red silk dress draped across a chair. “Just that. I suppose it would work for meeting mom and dad.”

“Spoken like a man.” Shelly rolls her eyes and sends a sympathetic smile my way. “I have some sweats you can borrow.”

I wait until she leaves the room. “She wears sweats. Like a normal person.”

She looks out of place in fancy designer jeans. It’s impossible to imagine her in something as ordinary as sweat pants and a t-shirt.

“Alexis,” Lucas says, sounding weary, “Shelly and I are normal, just like you. The only difference is that because of a twist of fate, we happened to be born into a royal family.”

Lucas sounds like he believes it, but I doubt he’s ever been reduced to eating nothing but ramen just so he can pay his car insurance. I decide to let the matter drop.

“Lucas, can I ask a question?”

“Always.”

“How did I get undressed last night. Did we …”

I pause. I can’t bring myself to say it, but the implication is clear.

I was already ashamed enough that, other than a few drunken giggles on my part, the only thing I can remember after leaving the church was sticking my head out of the limo’s moon roof and yelling at the top of my head.

The mattress dips and sways as Lucas assumes a prone position. The only thing separating his nearly naked body from mine was a sheet and a thin blanket. His towel parts slightly, revealing a slice of a nicely shaped thigh.

He reaches out and runs his knuckles across the swell of both of my breasts. I shiver. It doesn’t make sense, but his touch, is as good for my hangover as a handful of aspirin.

“Are you trying to ask me if we had sex?”

I blush and nod.

Lucas’s fingers nudge the sheet, pushing it a fraction of an inch lower. I close my eyes.

The sheet continues to cover more than most of the tank-tops I wear on hot summer days, but because we’re currently in bed together and probably because it’s the only thing I’m wearing, I feel more exposed than ever before.

Lucas’s fingers lightly explore the newly exposed strip of skin, each brush of skin on skin sending tiny electrical pulses to my nipples which harden. Tension, strange and exciting, builds in my core.

If an innocent, vanilla touch causes me to react this way, what will happen when he replaces his fingers with his tongue, or when he moves over and into me.

For the first time in my life, my imagination fails me. Probably from potential sensory overload.

“I assure you,” Lucas leans close. His breath warms my ear. I sense him staring at my face. “That your virtue is still in place. Nothing happened. Not even a kiss.”

His thumb slides beneath the sheet and swirls around my nipple. I jolt at the unexpected touch.

“Easy.” He cuddles closer and nuzzles my ear. I moan out loud. I’d been told ears are an erogenous zone, but before Lucas, I’d never believed that to be true.

“Why didn’t we …” I can’t bring myself to say the word, “you know. Didn’t you want to?”

My memory of last night may be hazy, but I do know that I was been ready and willing to engage in whatever carnal activities he’d wanted. It was one of the main reasons he’d talked me into entering that church and repeating vows in a language I don’t understand. Carried along on a wave of lust and alcohol.

I guess no great story starts with someone eating a salad…

“Oh, I wanted to,” Lucas growls. His other hand finds my other breast and he gives it a squeeze that walks the line between pleasure and pain.

“There’s something about you. Just looking at you makes me harder than I’ve ever been before. I can barely think straight for wanting to fuck you.”

So why didn’t he? Insecurity mixes with desire. “Did I do something wrong?

I don’t have to wait long for the answer.

“The only reason I haven’t completely ravished you yet is because you were practically falling down drunk.” Lucas’s lips find the pulse point in my throat and he kisses it. My head falls to the side, allowing him better access.

“And while you’re one of the sexiest drunks I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, there was no way that I was going to ravish you then. When you and I make love, I want you to know exactly what’s happening.”

His mouth moves lower, sliding past my collar bone to place a love bite on the swell of my right breast.

My back arches, begging him for more. The edge of the sheet slips to my navel, baring my entire chest to his hands and mouth. I don’t care.

His tongue darts out snaking over my nipple. I moan while he continues his story.

“So when we got back here, I helped you out of your dress and into bed. I held your hand while you fell asleep. That’s all that happened.”

Lucas rolls on top of me. His erection presses into my thigh through the thin covers, he cups my face between my hands and looks so deeply into my eyes I think he’s reading my inner most thoughts.

“But you’re not drunk now, are you Alexis?”

I shake my head.

“So there’s nothing stopping me from ravishing you the way a husband should ravish his brand new bride, is there?”

I shake my head. His pupils dilate. I swear the corners of his mouth flex, like he’s about to smile.

“Good,” he lowers his head. Our breaths mingle. My lips part and my eyes flutter shut.

Just as lip meets lip, the bedroom door bangs open.