"Nothing seems to really phase her," Adrian said out loud. He stood over the railing looking out into the ocean's midnight view.

"Sorry sir?" Megan looked up at him from the tablet.

The women had for the most part gone to bed—he had his first "date" in a few minutes, but he was already exhausted.

He blinked, not realizing that he had said it out loud, "I meant Veronica—I'm surprised she stuck that out."

Megan eyed him, "According to my records, she's the best in her field—can handle anything and came highly recommended—that's why we booked this one."

He nodded, "So, she's always so—" Adrian tried to find the right word, wound up, sexy, ready to be broken,— "professional?"

He had done it on purpose, of course—as soon as she walked into the dining room, he couldn't help but be intrigued with her gaze.

He wanted to see her squirm, so far no one else was on his mind as much as her.

Veronica had looked over the women, watched them flock over him like crazy, and her gaze was at first surprised but then amused—like she had never seen this, and didn't believe it was real. He had wanted to push her limits, to test the waters.

He had gotten what he was looking for—when her eyes fell on him, as he pulled the ladies' hair—she blushed.

That's what I want.

The image of her face burned in his mind—more than it should.

He couldn't help but think it—he'd forgotten the last time he had made a woman blush, most of the women were ready and willing, not that he could complain.

But, he had almost lost sight of his goal already—get a wife.

He tried to shrug it off, "What's next?"

"Miss Bourgeois—"

"Which one is that one?"

"She's the one with the short hair and the tattoo on her—"

"Cut her."

Megan blinked in surprise, "But sir—you haven't even spent time with—"

"What did I just say, Meg?" He didn't feel like arguing—but if he barely remembered the miss, then she hadn't made an impression.

Megan looked down to the tablet, "Of course, sir."

He didn't want to tell Meg that she might have been right, he'd barely been here a few hours and he already messed this plan up. He was thinking too much about the staff instead of the potential fiances.

Thinking too much on the ferocity that is Veronica.

Adrian groaned, slumping his shoulders down, hanging his head, "What am I going to do Meg?"

She cleared her throat, clearly unaware of his true thoughts, "You're going to get married to a respectable women and convince Parliament that your bad body days are over."

She said it cut and dry.

He took a deep breath, looking out into the dark horizon.

Too bad I can't just run away.

"And, what if I can't do it—what if I can't find a good one?"

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but her voice remained firm, "Sir—we had the best people pick the cream of the crop for you—it will work."

He took a deep breath and turned away from her.

Megan turned off her tablet, and eyed him for a moment, "You need a break sir—we'll start back up in the morning, I'll order a drink for you."

He nodded, glad to get some time alone.

He heard her footsteps walk away and off the deck, he felt heavy.

He looked up at the stars, wondering if his mother would see him now, what she would say. She might chide him, his days had finally caught up to him. She had always frowned upon his escapades, but not because they caused public grief.

"Because, you deserve to be loved too," she had said to him, holding his face in her hands.

He looked away, not wanting to feel her motherly care—he had done so much wrong already.

Slowly, she pulled out the small wooden box—he knew what it was—his mother's engagement ring.

"I've kept it safe inside this box, since the day your father and I were married—it's for you and the woman you love."

He felt the sting in his eyes, "Mom, I won't have someone like that—I'm not—"

She shushed him with kind eyes, "Don't let your past define you—if I love you, trust me—you will find another who will too."

She gave him a kiss on his forehead and he gave her a hug.

He missed her—he wished he could ask her for guidance, for once. But, it was too late.

"Sir?" a voice said behind him.

Damn, it had to be her.

Her voice sent a chill through him, and he turned slowly to face Veronica's dark gaze.

She looked him up and down, with a tray in her hand. She looked concerned.

Even in the darkness of the night, her silhouette called to him—she was going to drive him crazy.

There was a clear glass on the tray, glistening in the warm night.

He reached out and took the glass, "Thank you, Veronica."

"Of course, sir," she looked down for a moment. He felt a small thrill run through him, the way she said Sir, it sounded forced, like she was hesitant to get close to him. He liked that.

She was about to turn to go, but he reached out to her, grabbing her elbow gently. His body was overtaking him.

She turned to him in surprise.

"Do you mind staying with me for a moment—I need a female perspective but most of them are bias here..."

She looked down to her elbow, and then back to him. He thought he could see her cheeks flush.

"Sure—" she nodded, turning to join him at the railing, "I mean, of course sir."

He smiled as she stood next to him.

They were silent for a minute.

He took a drink—now, he didn't know what to say—a million thoughts had been running through his mind, but now he was blank.

Maybe, I just wanted her near me.

He tried to push the thought away. He couldn't help but gaze at her from a side glance.

The night air made beads of sweat glisten on her neck and her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, but some of her strands were now framing her face. He wanted to lick off the sweat.

The moonlight glittered off her own dark eyes, as if the moonlight belonged to the beautiful space within them.

He felt a familiar tug in his stomach. He knew the feeling—he wanted her.

His eyes glazed down her tight suit, as it hugged her womanly curves—he imagined what it was like to hold onto her hips.

She's sexy as fuck.

Then, his body reacted—he felt the bulge in his pants engorge.

He had women like her before, women outside of his class—but, they had thrown themselves on him—but here she was, keeping a solid arm distance away. It turned him on, and if her blushes matched her emotions—she was attracted to him, too.

He felt his walls breaking—I could just attend my duties tomorrow.

"So, what did you think?" he eyed her.

She shifted her gaze away, "About what, sir?"

He chuckled, "You know what."

She took a moment to respond, like she was trying to find the best answer, "Interesting dinner, sir."

He shook his head, pulling onto her elbow to face him, "Don't lie—tell me, really."

She looked up at him in surprise.

Somehow, within him, he knew that she wouldn't protest his closeness—not with the way she had checked him out when he boarded.

He set his glass on the railing, freeing his other hand.

"Honestly?" Her gaze was intense, like she was in the middle of playing a game, but not the ones he'd seen earlier amongst the ladies—a personal game.

"Honestly, Veronica," he said low.

Her eyes shifted away and then came back to his, fully focused, "Even though you're a Prince, I'm surprised women in our generation are so willing to throw themselves at you."

Her words were blunt—her eyes sparkled. It was like she was ready to say it, but needed his permission first. The fire lit within him—he was right, Veronica was different. Most other women would have said it turned them on, or they couldn't wait for more. It was like she wanted to push him away with her words. But, she was wrong—his attraction to her only increased—I want to take her now.

He smiled, "So, you think they should be more like you, then?"

"What—"

He leaned in close to her, their faces only inches apart, "You heard me—they should act like you, all brave on the outside with your morals—but on the inside, they want it even more than the rest."

His words came out seamlessly, her eyes lit—he was on point. The fire within him began to burn like never before.

He liked the way she was thinking, and he liked how he could see through it. The quench for lusty thirst was red-hot, he needed to satisfy it. Her cheeks burned red, he could tell even in the moonlight.

She tried to pull her elbow back, but he pulled her closer, and wrapped an arm around her waist.

The fire in her eyes sparked, the way she looked at him turned him on—like she didn't want to give in, but he could see her truth.

"What are you doing—" she said.

He brought their chests together, as he gazed into her dark eyes.

She didn't protest—she stared at him, blinking.

He whispered, "Admit it—you wanted me right when I got here—but your moral code is getting in the way..."

She gulped, surprised at his words, "I'm only here to serve you, sir—to help you out."

She tried to push against him, but she was weak, as if he had taken the strength out of her. Her push was nothing compared to the woman who had grabbed him by his elbow earlier.

He pulled her tighter, his face only an inch from her.

"Fine then—have it your way," he pressed his lips against hers.

She froze in surprise, her body tensing.

Her lips were soft and warm.

He broke away from her, she blinked as if in a spell.

He grinned, the taste of her lips sent a thrill through him. He had been fighting it—but, there was nothing wrong with a kiss, right?

Just so I could get it out of my system—get her out of my system.

"You can kiss me now, and do what I say—or, your fiance might find out about this," he pulled her closer to him.

His threat was playful—he knew what she wanted already, she just needed a little push.

Her eyes widened, "You wouldn't."

He grabbed her chin, "Want to find out?"

Her eyes fluttered, and it sent a rush of blood to his member. She looked down and then back up at him through heavy lashes, she bit her lip as she thought.

Damn, that's hot.

The fire roared in him, maybe he wouldn't be able to stop at a kiss.

She finally looked at him, and closed her eyes, reaching up to meet his lips.

He pressed their bodies together, his lips tasting hers.

Her breath was sweet and her lips seemed to taste like wine.

Her kisses were hesitant at first, but as he pressed his against hers—and as she took them into her mouth, her lips parted with hunger. She pushed her tongue into his mouth—gasping as their lips tugged at each other. She moaned softly. His body reacted—he hadn't heard a real sound of pleasure like that, for a long time—none like that.

Their kiss turned fierce, as the taste of her filled his mouth, and he pushed her against the railing.

Her hands twisted in his collar, pulling him closer.