He’s a prince. Not a billionaire, a prince.

Wait, he was both, I guessed.

I sat next to him in the living room of the penthouse suite, only a small portion of me watching the news report on the flatscreen. The rest of me, as if my heart had eyes too, watched Xander. Prince Alexander of Elleston as he soaked in the knowledge coming from the television.

The sound of his proper, formal name rang through the speakers, and something twisted in the center of my chest as I watched the tension in his shoulders return. I sighed. My earlier moves to ease that strain in him had vanished.

And now, knowing who he was…I better understood the weight that kept him rod straight as if always bracing for impact. But also, now that I knew who he was…I didn’t understand, couldn’t even begin to comprehend the stress he endured on a daily basis. No longer the CEO billionaire type I’d pegged him for, he actually had people. People who depended on him, needed him, needed his family and his ruling and…

My head spun, the thoughts weaving a story closer to a fictional tale I’d write than reality. And right alongside the fantasy, fear fueled every beat of my heart.

I’m no princess.

And I never would be.

He’s only here for a couple weeks.

I’d known that and committed myself to the fun anyway.

Who would I be if I abandoned my original mission to show him a good time, to help him unwind from the strains of his position—which I now knew were more severe than ever. I would be a total bitch. It would be worse than staying with him in the hopes of living out some fairytale fantasy most only dream of.   

No. I liked Xander. He made me laugh, and I loved shocking him, surprising him. And his kiss…well, there was nothing to compare it to. The man kissed like he commanded legions, armies. He definitely commanded me.  It went straight to my heart, my core, and then traveled between my thighs, making the loop on repeat until I’d wanted to take him at the table even though there were hot dogs present. The memory of his hard length pressed against me sent shivers down my spine, but the sight of him cooled the hot memory.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his coffee-brown eyes rich, deep, and narrowing at the screen.

The tension pulsed off his body and hit mine—beat after beat of a responsibility so great I could spend an entire lifetime trying to understand it and never get close.

Hell, I whined when my publisher placed my deadlines too close together. How could he be so fun and flirty and fantastic when an entire country relied on him? And his family as well?

“Some residents aren’t sure that the crown prince will be able to fill the shoes his father left behind…”

I cut my eyes to the screen for only a moment to glare at the faceless reporter who said such things. Not that I knew anything about being royalty, but I knew Xander. Well, I knew who he’d been with me these past few days, and he was more than enough.

Darkness flashed in the flecks of gold in his eyes, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. I both did and didn’t want to distract him from the reports, but bad reviews sucked, and while mine were nowhere near as important as his, I wanted to soothe the sting. I reached up, trailing my fingers over his cheek, enjoying the tickle of the light stubble there. A breath released from his broad chest like he’d been holding it, and he blinked before giving a nod to Oliver who quickly turned off the television.

“Do you need me to contact your mother?” Oliver asked, hands behind his back.

Xander shook his head. “All of the calls I needed to make are complete. The police have it in hand—these reports are hours old. I’ll call her in the morning.”

Oliver nodded and took his cue to leave again. The sound the door made when it latched was so much heavier than it had been the first time I walked inside, not even an hour ago.

Everything had changed, and yet, nothing had.

I was still Willa, and he was still Xander.

Prince.

It didn’t matter. I’d gone into this knowing he was going to leave. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hold on to a man like Xander—he was too important, burning brighter than a star whose tail flashed across an inky sky. I’d be lucky to get a taste of that brilliance, let alone show him a thing or two about my wildness, too. Something I’m sure he’d craved and was in desperate need of before he had to return to a life of…obligated privilege.

“No wonder,” I said, the realization hitting hard and true in my mind.

“What?” He said, his eyes tense, his entire body coiled as if he expected me to run out the door, agreeing with the garbage the reporter had spewed.

My lips shaped into a slow, wicked grin, and I relished the curiosity in his eyes that edged in panic. “No wonder you came looking for me.”

A rumbling laugh rushed out of him, and it soothed the knot between my shoulder blades that had formed since he’d uttered the word prince.

I can do this.

I could be myself and treat him like I would have if I’d never found out who he was—not that I believed for a second he would’ve taken it further without telling me. He was too good a man for that, and I suddenly wondered if he even knew just how good he was? With the way he’d let every jab hit him from the TV, I doubted it.

The depth in his eyes lightened with his laughter, but it wasn’t enough. The weight was still there, and even though I knew one technique would be a sure-fire way to get him to loosen up, I knew tonight wasn’t the night to unhinge the passion pulsing in my blood. He didn’t need a good roll in the sheets right now—though the images of such a thing made me slick between the thighs. No, he needed a friend. He needed fun. He needed distraction.

“Willa,” he said, shifting to face me, his knee brushing mine. Delicious waves of heat curled up my core when he said my name, and it had me rethinking the friendly plan I’d concocted. “I want you to know that I was going to tell you before we…” he swallowed hard. “Before anything happened further between us.”

I grinned, snorting. “I know that.”

He cocked a brow at me. “Do you?”

I nodded. “You’re a good man, Xander. And besides, I was kissing you without demanding to know your deepest darkest secrets. You aren’t in trouble.”

Another deep sigh, one long and hard enough to lower his stiff shoulders just a tad.

“Well,” he said, placing a hand on my knee, and though the touch was innocent, it sent sparks shooting across my skin. “Then I need to be honest with you…”

My throat closed up, choking on the easy air between us. He was going to dismiss me before I had a chance to help him. Before I had a chance to unravel him. He wasn’t even going to give me these two weeks—or whatever he had left in the states.

“We spoke before about the woman my family wants me to marry.”

“Ah,” I said, slightly relieved and irked at the same time. I told myself to calm the eff down, as I’d just been schooling myself on the fling this would be. Nothing more. “You said that she looked at you as more of a brother than a lover. And vice versa.”

“That is true.” He nodded. “Though, I changed the wording a bit.”

“Oh?” It was my turn to arch a brow at him. “I do that all the time. Artistic liberties and all that.”

He chuckled, and the smile was enough to send my heart fluttering. Yes, fluttering. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my own ridiculousness. “Betrothed.”

I hissed despite myself. “That is a word I could live without.” I stared down at his hand on my thigh, shaking my head. I didn’t know he was betrothed, didn’t realize that whatever happened between us would reflect badly on him. I stood up, unable to handle the warmth of his touch for a moment longer, and doused myself with mental buckets of ice water. “I didn’t know it was already at that stage,” I said. “I’m sorry. About the kisses…” I palmed my forehead. I had kissed him openly in the lobby, outside the skating rink, anyone could’ve seen.

“What could you possibly have to apologize for,” he asked, standing before me. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It was me who wanted to be a normal man for a few blissful moments before reality revealed me for who I am.”

“A prince,” I said, a teasing to my tone. “Batman.”

He took my hand, tracing circles on the back with his finger. Chills erupted over my skin, and my breath hitched. “That, yes, but I’m also a man. One who is completely in awe of everything that is you. And I wanted you to know about the betrothal, but I also want you to know that it’s not official to the public yet. It was a promise made between our parents when we were children, and nothing more. In three months, that won’t be the case. It will be public, official, and I will no longer be single.”

My eyes met his, hope blooming in my chest. “So,” I said, my eyes dropping back to his hand in mine. “You’re saying we have…months?”

A low hiss left his lips, and I saw the pain flicker in his eyes. The weight of his duty, of his position, made them look almost solid. “Yes. And I know that it isn’t much, and that isn’t anywhere close to fair, but I can’t seem to stay away from you now. You’ve…” his face strained as he struggled to find the words.

“Bewitched me? Body and soul?” I teased, saying the lines from my favorite Austen novel.

His laugh wrapped around me like a warm hug and I breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, and trying like hell not to sense the power in it, either. “Of course,” he said once he’d stopped laughing. “I’m dating a writer.”

My brows rose at the label he’d placed on us. “Are we dating?”

“If you’ll have me. A prince with a departure date. I am enchanted by you, Willa, but I won’t lie to get what I want. You have to know the score. I have three months, and they’re yours if you want them, but I can’t give you any more, no matter how much I might want to.”

A tiny slice of pain cut through the center of my chest. I’d only known him for a few days, and I was already dreading his leave. But honestly, this could go nowhere beyond what I’d originally intended anyway.

I’m no princess. I thought again, though I would never apologize for that fact. I loved who I was, and it had taken a good amount of years to be this comfortable in my own skin. Nothing, not even a royally gorgeous man who had a direct line to my flutter-button could change that. But this? I could have my moment with him and still stay me.

“It’s a good thing you wrecked your brother’s car,” I said, stepping into his space another inch. I craned my neck to meet his eyes, reaching up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. “I can handle a fun fling if you can.”

A spark of electricity turned those solid brown eyes to melted chocolate. “Truly?”

I nodded, teasing the edge of his strong jaw with my nose. His hands moved to grip my waist, and a warm shudder rippled through me at their strength.

“Willa,” he said, my name a breath between us as his lips inched toward mine.

I debated for blinks of time and hurried beats of my heart. I could submit now, allow myself the end of torture in the chemistry between us, in the ache with his name on it between my thighs. But I was never one to submit easily, no matter how much I knew he could demand something of me in that growly voice of his and I would be on my knees in a second. The image of him bare before me at knee level, all his gloriousness to behold, made my mouth water.

No.

I dropped my toes, sinking to my normal level, smirking as I stepped away from his advance.

His grin was sly, but questioning and I saw the battle in his eyes as he debated what I had—if he wanted to press the issue, persuade me to change my mind.

“I have an idea,” I blurted before he could open his mouth and say some sort of magic word that would have my dress disappear…you know, something incredibly complex like…Willa.

“What’s that?” He placed his hands behind his back, the cords of his muscles softening a fraction.

I glanced around him, eyeing the balcony. “First,” I said, returning my eyes to his. “We need more junk food.”

“More?” he had the nerve to sound shocked.

I nodded, backing toward the door.

“I can send Oliver—”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s your bodyguard, not your intern.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, and that Adam’s apple bobbed again. I smirked, my hand on the knob. “You aren’t used to people telling you no, are you?”

He shook his head.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

Twenty minutes and two sacks of candy bars, pretzels, and soda later, Xander was holding his hard stomach, waving his hands over the array of wrappers between us.

“No more, woman. I can take no more.”

“But you haven’t even tried the Snickers yet!”

He stood, walking as if he’d gained five pounds, and twisted open a bottle of water. “I don’t know how you people do it,” he said, taking fast sips before licking the drops of water of his lips. I had a hard time pulling my eyes away from the tongue that did the job.

“My people?” I asked.

“Americans.” He set the bottle down, sighing. “I feel like I might burst from the sugar rush, or pass out. I’m not sure which would be more welcomed right now.”

“Lightweight,” I teased, popping another M&M into my mouth before hauling myself off the sofa, too.

He looked at me from lowered brows. “You wouldn’t say that if it were a whiskey bottle between us instead of candy wrappers.”

Another ripple of want flowed under my skin at the powerful gaze he fastened on me. “I have no doubt,” I said. “I like my whiskey with a little ginger ale.”

He scoffed. “Don’t say that when you come to Elleston. It’s grounds for imprisonment.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking because my heart stuttered on the term when as opposed to if.

He cleared his throat, seeming to notice the shift in the room. “Now what?” He asked, his smile soft and easy and this side of endearing.

“Phase two of the plan.” I glanced at my cell. “Perfect,” I said. “It’s after midnight.” I slipped on my coat and padded to the balcony in socked feet, unlatching the sliding glass door. I had it open and one foot on the cold concrete when I beckoned him over with one crook of my finger.

And he came.

I tried not to chuckle at the notion that a prince was answering my call.

Tried like hell to not let it turn me on, either, but I was only human.

“What happens after midnight?” He asked as he joined me where I leaned against the railing. Puffs of air escaped our mouths from the cold, but our thick coats made it bearable.

“Everything,” I said, waving an arm at the city beneath us.

New York came alive at night; it’s array of buildings sparkling from their own source of starlight since there was none to be seen. And while my little cottage offered me the seclusions I needed on a daily basis, the city was wonderful for little pieces of stolen adventure when desired.

People hustled and strolled, some alone, some in groups or couples, but everything was alive and pulsing. The noise barely filtered up to us on the twentieth-floor balcony, but echoes of the night hummed around our bodies, fueling the growing heat between the inches that separated us.

“There,” I said, pointing toward a girl pacing on the corner of the street where she appeared to be waiting for someone. The way she stomped her boots with each pass on the small, slightly crowded corner made me chuckle. “You see the brunet with the cell gripped in her hand?”

Xander narrowed his eyes, resembling a hawk as he used his whole body to shift to where I pointed. “Yes?”

“Her boyfriend was supposed to pick her up an hour ago, but Todd has never been one to be on time. And she’s contemplating paying him back by heading to that club over there.” I pointed a block down the street where if we listened hard enough we might hear the thump thump of base echo from the club’s doors. “She knows a bartender there…Jake. He’d help drown her anger in vodka tonics the rest of the night. Free of charge, of course.”

Xander squinted at me, a tilt to his head. “You’re friends with them?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No.”

“But you know them.”

I snorted. “No. This is one of my favorite games to play when I stay in the city.”

He surveyed me for a few seconds, likely determining if I was as crazy as the colors in my hair. Glancing down at the street, he pointed to a pair of college-aged guys who’d stopped in front of a bodega. One was helping the other secure a thick rope of gold around his neck.

“And them?” he challenged.

“They’ve been best friends since the third grade and are about to pick up a meal to take back to the one with the necklace, Brad’s, grandmother. Whom they live with to save money while they go to school.”

He chuckled, pointing to a man smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall of another building. “He’s on his break.”

Xander scoffed. “Not your best.”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “On his break from running the strip club around the corner. He’s in love with his top-earning dancer, Cherrypop.”

My cheeks hurt from trying to keep my face deadpan as Xander doubled over from laughing. “Much better,” he managed to say through his laughs. The crinkles around his eyes seemed almost foreign like he didn’t laugh near enough.

It made my heart full, knowing I could offer him that release.

“Your turn.” I pointed to a group of girls in mini-dresses despite the cold night. They wore heels and gripped glittered clutches as they strutted down the sidewalk lining the massive buildings, no clear destination in mind it seemed.

“Oh,” he said, leaning his elbows further over the railing, the motion so casual and relaxed it made my stomach melty. “The Giavati sisters? They’re on their way to the eldest sister’s fiancé’s restaurant. They’ll dine for free, naturally, and drink several bottles of house wine before heading to the bodega where Brad and his friend will have returned to get the dessert they forgot for his grandmother. The youngest Giavati will fall madly in love with Brad, and they’ll live happily ever after.”

I laughed so hard tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. “Not bad,” I said. “You are a romantic.”

“Why do you say that?” He asked, turning his full attention to me.

“Because you gave them a happy ending.”

“As an author, I thought you’d appreciate it.” He smirked. “Are you telling me the owner of the strip club and Cherrypop don’t get a happy ending?” The stripper’s name sounded hilarious with his accent coating it, and the tears now rolled down my cheeks, which ached. I swiped them away, sucking in breaths of city-night air.

We played the people-watching game for another hour until our sides hurt so much we returned inside. In the bathroom, I changed into soft cotton pajama shorts and a fitted, v-neck tank top, and totally ignored the couch as I headed for the king-sized bed in his room, the double doors open and inviting. I crashed against it, exhaustion settling deep in my bones from the night.

He came out of his own bathroom dressed in black silk pajama pants and a white cotton T that strained against his broad, muscled chest. I swallowed hard. “You certainly take lounge wear to an entirely new level.”

He licked his lips, eyeing my bare legs. “I could say the same about you. Did you forget it’s winter?”

“I’m a hot sleeper.”

He swallowed hard, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “Are we going to sleep?”

“I don’t want to go to my room just yet,” I admitted. “Can we talk some more?”

He smiled, somehow pleased with my desire to stay. “More story weaving?”

I shook my head, rolling to my side to stuff a couple of pillows underneath my head. He mimicked my position on the other side, and something charged and hot crept up my spine. The comfort, the ease as I laid next to him in bed like we’d done it a thousand times before, was almost as welcoming as the exhilaration his scent on the warm sheets stirred inside me.

“Tell me something real,” he said, his voice almost a whisper despite it just being the two of us.

I could see the sleepiness curl around his dark eyes, too, as he breathed deep and loose and free. “I love the sound of your laugh,” I said, my tone just as soft. “And I hate that it surprises you, that laughter. Like you’d forgotten how.”

He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Your turn,” I said.

“I’m afraid,” he answered without opening his eyes, and I saw the large, muscled forearm bunch up underneath the pillow like he was clenching his hand into a fist. “That I won’t be enough.” The words were so quiet I might have imagined them.

I trailed the pad of my finger over those tight muscles, relishing the way they relaxed under my touch. “Don’t be,” I said, closing my eyes as he hadn’t opened his. The weight of all the truths laid between us tonight, and the laughing fest we’d fallen into outside had made me more tired than I even realized. “You’re one hell of a man, Xander. And you don’t need to be anyone more than that. Not for Elleston. And especially not with me.”

A few long, silent beats passed between us, but I couldn’t pry my eyes open.

“Willa,” he said my name on a whisper, but the sweet arms of sleep had already curled around me.