Outside is better, at least. I usually hate this kind of function — the kind where it’s my job to make small talk, discuss the weather, and generally be diplomatic to a bunch of useless but well-bred people who can only keep their countries afloat in the world because they’ve got a population of five hundred.

But right now, all that’s pushed to the back of my mind. It’s barely a blip.

All I can really think about is Princess Katarina. As soon as my father informed me that I was going to Tomassia to court the Crown Princess, of course I researched her. I like to know what I’m getting into.

And my conclusions about the Princess at the time were... decidedly unflattering.

Yet somehow, nothing I’ve read or seen about her takes into account how goddamn stunning she is in person. The way her eyes are so blue they nearly glow.

The way her breasts press against the fabric of her dress as she breathes. The way it’s almost impossible not to stare and wonder if those are nipples you can see. If she’s wearing a bra underneath her dress.

What it would feel like if I bit one of her perfect, delicate nipples through the satin of her gown, what kind of sound she’d make as I did.

“Was there something in particular you wanted to see in the garden?” Dominic asks, and I snap out of my reverie about the Princess, clearing my throat.

It’s just the two of us now, no one else.

“I just wanted to get out of there,” I say, glancing around to make sure no one can hear me. “You know I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“Which is a shame, since you’re literally born to it and all that,” he says.

I just snort, crossing my arms in front of myself. My diplomatic duties are just something I do on the side. My real calling is the military command of Materbourg.

Not like Dominic, who could probably charm his way into a threesome. Actually, I know he could. I’ve seen it.

Hell, it was a joint effort, if you know what I mean.

“I’d much prefer to storm the castle, really,” I say, looking upward. “Look at that. I’m sure no one’s used those archery slots in hundreds of years, and I don’t think this masonry would hold up very well to missiles, do you?”

Dom just rolls his eyes.

“Could you please think about something besides how you’d destroy the castle where our allied nation is very graciously putting us up for two weeks?”

To answer my own question, no, the masonry would not hold up well to missile fire.

“I’ll try.”

“Thanks,” Dom says dryly.

We walk along in silence for a while. The gardens are full of trees, bushes, and tall grasses — much more than just a flower garden. After a while, we come up on a gazebo near a duck pond.

I don’t think anything of it until I spy a flash of green, and then a sudden glint of red. Someone’s in the gazebo.

We’re both suddenly walking faster, around the corner, and then we can see her slim white neck, the tops of her shoulders. From the way my dick swells to near bursting almost instantly, I know who it is.

It’s Crown Princess Katarina.

Dom gives me one glance, his face unreadable, then turns and sets off for her, giving me the option to follow him like a puppy or look like I’m ignoring the Princess completely.

He’s a fucking dick sometimes, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides. He strides up to her, leaving me alone on the path, and I have to watch him bow deeply, introduce himself again, and kiss her hand.

She laughs. Goddamn it, she laughs.

Of course she does. Dom is charming and funny. He’s good at this, while I’m still back here on the path behind him, standing like a moron. I look around, trying to figure out a way to come up there and talk to the Princess without looking like I’m just copying him.

Then it hits me: there are flowers everywhere. The answer’s obvious.

I break a bright red rose off of a bush just as the Princess laughs again. He’s still holding her hand in his, still smiling that damn charming smile as I break the thorns off the rose with my bare fingers.

I twirl the rose once in my fingertips, look up at the gazebo, square my shoulders, and stride over, summoning every ounce of charm and wit I’ve got.

As I mount the steps, Dom and the Princess both go quiet, turning to look at me.

I walk up to her and bow, and she nods her head. I swear she turns faintly pink, but it’s hard to tell, and she gives me her hand.

I kiss her knuckles, warm and soft. She smells floral and sweet, so fucking sweet I want to devour her this instant. It’s all I can do to keep myself from pulling her off the bench and into my arms, ravishing her right here in the gardens.

Somehow, I don’t.

“A pleasure to see you again, Princess,” I say. “It’s been quite a while.”

She smiles at me, and something bright and warm flares in my heart.

“Yes, Dom and I were just saying that the last time we saw each other neither of you could grow a beard, and I was in the second year of my grand battle against acne.”

“You seem to have won,” I say, gazing at her beautiful, porcelain skin.

She laughs.

“It was a long, hard war, and I lost a lot of good photo opportunities, but I triumphed in the end,” she says.

I can’t think of what to say next, so I hand her the rose. Katarina takes it, smiling, and holds it to her nose.

“Thank you,” she says.

Dom flicks me a glare, but I ignore him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Princess,” I say.

“Bruno, is there any chance you’ve picked that flower quite recently from these very gardens?” Dom asks me, teasing.

Katarina and I both glance at the ragged end of the stem, which was clearly torn, not cut

“It’s not up to me when inspiration strikes,” I say, teasing him right back. “I saw a pretty girl and wanted to give her a flower. It’s a rose from the heart, Dom.”

“Actually, I’m fairly sure I watched you take it from that bush over there,” he says, grinning.

Katarina is laughing quietly at our exchange, and even though I’m a little frustrated that he’s here, I have to admit that this is oddly fun.

“You don’t have to be so literal,” I say. “Where’s your sense of poetry, or haven’t you got one?”

Behind me, someone clears her throat.

Dom and I turn at the same time to see a young woman standing there, hand folded in front of her, dressed like one of the household staff.

“Princess, I’m terribly sorry, but it’s time to dress for dinner,” she says.

Katarina stands, and Dom and I both take a step back and bow.

“I’ll see you both at the banquet?” she asks, blue eyes dancing.

“Of course.”

“Absolutely.”

“Perfect,” she says, and then she follows the girl out of the gazebo and around the corner.

Dom and I exhale in unison, and I know we’re both watching her perfect, tempting ass as she walks away, her hips moving from side to side hypnotically.

“Goddamn,” Dom says.

“Holy shit,” I agree.

We don’t talk for the rest of the time we’re in the gardens.