Going out in this storm was a bad idea. The hostel might only be a few minutes’ walk away from the clinic, but that’s assuming the roads are intact. I didn’t even consider the river that has formed where the street used to be, nor did I think about the lack of lighting.

I wish I had brought that flashlight…

I walk—trudge might be a better word—through the ankle deep mud that is now the road to the hostel, guided only by the frequent lightning cracking overhead. And saying I’m wet would be a huge understatement. It’s like I’m standing under a gushing waterfall. But the hostel isn’t too far, and the only important thing at the moment is getting myself the hell away from the clinic. I can’t believe I’m doing this again—running away. I’m going to have to figure out how to face my problems head-on someday, but for now, escaping the entire situation seems like the best thing to do.

I think I’m almost there, but it’s hard to tell. I’m on the edge of what I know is the dirt road—it seems like the water is a lot deeper in the middle. The lightning hasn’t flashed in at least a minute or two. I must veer off course or something because when I take my next step, my leg sinks into mud halfway up my thigh.

My heart begins to pound, and my breaths are coming way too fast. I want to scream for a second before I realize I’m having a minor panic attack. I can’t believe I’m wishing for lightning—anything to light up the sky for even a second.

It’s like the universe—or at least the storm—is listening to me or something, because a huge bolt of electricity bursts from the sky overhead. I’ve somehow swerved into the middle of the road, which is more than a small stream now—it’s practically part of the river. I throw my suitcase over to the bank before I pull my leg out of the sludge.

My leg pops out with a sucking sound that is barely audible over the pouring rain and the rushing river that was the road a few hours ago. It takes me a second to realize my shoe is no longer on my foot.

Leaving the clinic was definitely a bad idea.

I panicked back there at the clinic after that douchebag doctor threatened me. My emotional wounds must still be a lot more open than I wanted to believe. I thought spending a year here would give me the confidence to stand on my own, but I guess it hasn’t. Now I’m standing one-shoed in the jungle, caught in the middle of a monsoon.

I am not going to cry. It’s all I’ve been telling myself since I walked out the door of the clinic. I’m not even sure why I feel the need to cry, except I’m in a pretty dire situation at the moment. It’s definitely not because I almost let myself be real with him. With Leo.

Damn it. Leo.

I swipe my drenched hair out of my eyes and trudge over to the bank of the new river to pick up my suitcase. I’m not even sure what the point of carrying it is anymore—the thing is completely saturated and I’m sure everything inside it is ruined by now, including my laptop. I should chuck it off into the trees next to me, but I remember my passport and identification are in there somewhere. Whatever happens, I’ll need those, and it’s not like I can open it up and fish out the stuff I truly need at this particular moment.

Lightning bolts through the sky again, and if the light weren’t so welcome, it would be fucking scary. The shallow area of the road-turned-river is close and I dash over there as quickly as my feet will carry me. I’m not making great time, but I was the idiot who didn’t think to bring a flashlight.

I test each step before I take another, determined not to get stuck in the mud again. It’s slow, but I’m pretty sure I can see La Playa up ahead. They have a real generator there, and they’ll at least have the lights on in the lobby.

I roll my eyes. And the bar. No reason to let a perfectly good squall go to waste—guests there who are hostage to the storm are great customers.

Owen won’t ask me questions. He won’t even think it’s weird I’m going to arrive looking like a drowned rat with only one shoe. He’ll probably offer me a shot of tequila, which doesn’t sound half bad at the moment.

I’ve never been the type to drink to numb my sorrows. No, I’m the one who runs. My current behavior will come as no surprise to my brother—not that he has much to brag about in the conduct department. And this is better, anyway. I’ll figure out how to get to Santa Rosa as soon as the storm dies down. I can hop on a plane and pretend this adventure never happened. And I’ll figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life as soon as I get back to California. I’m prone to overplanning things, but there’s no need to think about the details yet. I can worry about planning when my feet are on American soil again. Preferably dry soil. With shoes on my feet.

And I’ll pretend I never met that prince. There is no need for me even to acknowledge how I almost let him get to me. Because he didn’t. Our kiss meant nothing. It was just a normal, hormonal response any woman of childbearing age would have had around an attractive man. He doesn’t know me and I don’t know him. And I don’t want him to know me. This whole thing over the past few days was some stupid fantasy—a ridiculous fairy tale I made up in my imagination.

But I don’t deserve a happy ending. I know that, and there’s no need for me to involve anyone else in my messed up life. Especially a prince. Leo has enough issues being who he is—he certainly doesn’t need any of mine. If he actually knew the kind of person I really am, he’d know I’m not worth the effort.

Thank God the rain has washed his scent from me. But it hasn’t done a thing about the taste of him still lingering on my lips.

“Fucking princes!” I scream the words at the top of my lungs, certain that even if there were people around, they wouldn’t be able to hear me over the torrential rain and the cracking thunder.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

I suck in a breath and I spin around, but I can’t see anything in the darkness. His voice seemed distant, but I know he can’t be too far away or he wouldn’t have been able to hear me.

A dim light is approaching—I can’t see who’s holding it, but I know it has to be Leo. His accent is unmistakable, as is his sexy, low voice—there isn’t anyone else it could be. Not here.

I shake my head and try not to think about how he shouldn’t be out here in this weather—not in his condition. I turn back toward La Playa, which I can see a few hundred feet up the path. As I suspected, the light next to the door is on—the generator has to be running. Even though it’s dim, it’s bright enough for me to be able to see the rest of the pathway to the building and I rush to the door, happy to be on the porch and under the awning, out of the rain.

I have no idea how he made up the ground, but Leo is right behind me. I turn to face him and frown. “What are you doing out of bed?” I’m yelling, but only because of the weather.

He reaches out and brushes my hair away from my face, his hand lingering there for a moment. “Why did you leave?” The volume of his voice is equal to mine, and I can still only barely hear him.

My heart is racing again and the fluttering in my stomach…it’s wrong. He’s an idiot for coming after me—there’s no reason for him to endanger his life like this.

But I can barely hear my voice and this isn’t the place for an argument. I decide not to say anything else to him. Instead, I wring out my hair as much as I can and try to brush the water off my clothes, though it’s really no use. I walk over to the door and enter.

I was expecting a party, but there isn’t one. Maybe it’s later than I thought, but there’s no one in the lobby. I can’t see anyone back in the bar, either.

Leo comes in behind me and I turn. He closes the door and stares at me in silence. He’s still shirtless and I hate myself for admiring his body for the split-second that I do—until I notice his bandage is gone, probably washed away in the storm.

“You’re bleeding.”

He looks me up and down. “You’re missing a shoe, as long as we’re pointing out the obvious.” His gaze meets mine and he smiles. “And I was told wet t-shirt night was not until Tuesday.”

I drop my suitcase at my side and cross my arms over my chest. I’m frowning, but something inside of me…is not. It’s not that I wanted him to come after me—I definitely didn’t. But I guess I’m…I don’t even know what it is. Flattered, maybe. Not about the wet t-shirt thing, but that he’s here at all. That he came after me. I mean, who does that? Guys don’t do that kind of thing—not in this sort of weather. And definitely not for me.

I give him my best exasperated look. “You should be in bed.”

He smiles and lifts a brow. “As should you. It happens that I have a bed at this establishment.”

I shake my head. “No.”

He grins. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

My heart is doing something weird in my chest—some strange combination of fluttering and pounding. I motion to my suitcase. “I don’t have anything dry.” I don’t realize what I’m saying until a few too many seconds have passed, and his smile turns a bit too wolfish. “And I said no.”

“Where will you go? It’s the spring holiday—surely there are no rooms available. My father almost had to issue a royal order for me to have a room. I wonder, Elle, what are you planning to do here?” He motions to one of the benches in the small lobby. “Will you sleep here?”

I narrow my gaze. “My brother lives here—”

“In a room smaller than mine,” he interrupts. “And that’s not to mention the three other beds in his room, which I imagine are also occupied.”

“There’s a dorm for women, too, smart guy. I’m surprised you didn’t request a bed in there, given…“ I stop myself from bringing up his reputation. I’m not even sure why I’m arguing about it with him—a warm bed and dry clothes sound almost heavenly. It shouldn’t really matter who’s offering it to me, but it somehow does.

“Given what?” His smile falls. “Given what, Elle?”

“Nothing.” My eyes trail down to his chest for a second—I’m almost embarrassed to admit I’m as bad as he is with the inappropriate staring. But then I see his gash. “I need to redress your wound.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He pauses. “What were you going to say to me?”

“I…” I press my lips together and look down at the floor before I lift my gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was that you shouldn’t have come after me. You could have died out there.”

“I know. That’s why I came—because you could have died out there.”

My eyes widen, and I have to blink a few times. I take a deep breath—there’s no way this man has come to care enough about me in the short time we’ve known each other to have actually risked his life to come after me. “What do you want from me?”

He winces like I’ve slapped him. His voice lowers. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I am happy you’ve arrived safely here.” He stares at me again, and his expression is devoid of emotion. “I should get back to Matthias.”

“You can’t go back out there.”

“Ask me to stay.”

“I don’t care what you do, Leo.”

He nods. “Fine. Then I’ll be going. Should you see my brother when he arrives later, please do tell him he can find me at the clinic. And if by chance I’m not there—”

“You’re bleeding.” I motion to his wound. “You should at least let me bandage you up before you go.”

He shakes his head. “To what end, Doctor? Another dressing will merely wash away—”

“Duct tape. I know Owen keeps some around. It’ll do the trick until you can get it sewn up by your new employee.” I smile. “And duct tape will hold up in the rain.”

His jaw tightens. “I will not be taped up like some electrical appliance—”

“Kidding.” I smile. “I was kidding.”

He’s still glaring at me—I guess my attempt at humor isn’t working.

“I’m sorry, Leo. I…I don’t want you to go.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up like he’s going to smile, but he doesn’t.

“I want you to stay.”

He stares at me for another long moment. “Ask me.”

My brow furrows. “Ask you what?”

He takes another step toward me. “Ask me to stay.”

“I just did—”

“Ask me.” His eyes are dark, and I’m not sure if it’s desire I’m seeing or something else.

I blow out a long breath—my heart is doing the weird fluttering thing again. “Will you…?” My voice is jittery—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. “Will you stay?”

The corners of his mouth turn up into the smallest of smiles and if it’s possible, it seems like his eyes have gone even darker. “Again.”

I shake my head, mostly trying to stop the shakiness of my voice. “No.”

He takes another step forward and there is almost no distance between us—he’s impossibly close to me without touching me at all. He tips his head down to whisper in my ear. “Ask. Me. Again.”

My knees almost buckle underneath me and my breath is as shaky as the rest of my body. I close my eyes and my head tilts away from him, almost inviting him to kiss my neck. “Please, Leo. Will you stay?”

He lifts a finger to push my still-dripping hair away from my neck and his touch is like fire on my skin. He dips his head again—this time his lips touch the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Again.” He almost breathes the word into me as his arms slide around my waist and he pulls me against his body.

I try not to moan as his lips meet that spot—he seems to know exactly where to touch me to make me bend to his will. My hands find the top of his shoulders before trailing up the back of his neck, one hand tangling in his wet hair.

He lifts his head and tilts it again to whisper into my ear. “Again. I need to hear you ask me again, Elle.” He nips my earlobe before his lips find that magic spot on my neck once more.

“Please.” Heat is coiling around my insides so hard and so fast I think I might explode. I almost moan my words. “Please, Leo. Please.” I want him to take me in his arms—I’ll even carry him up the stairs and to his room. I don’t want to think about the consequences. I just want him.

He pulls his head back for a moment to look into my eyes, and I swear my knees have disappeared—I don’t think I can stand upright anymore. He parts his lips and leans in to kiss me.

I close my eyes and tilt my head to meet his kiss. I’m about to part my lips—I can’t wait to taste him again. I want him. I want…more.

His lips haven’t even met mine—and my eyes flutter open when I hear my brother’s voice.

“Dude, you’re getting blood all over the floor.”

* * *