A lot of the one-blood activity had been centered around the university campus though. I’d ditched my entourage and gone undercover as a transfer student so I had a chance of finding out what the bloody idiots were doing here, or what it was they wanted, with a little bit of blind hope that I might just be able to stalk them back to whoever was in charge of the gang.
And if doing my duty allowed me a few days of freedom and the chance to chat up a gorgeous American girl who smelled like delicious ripe peaches and had my wolf’s ears pricking up with interest, well then, that was all the better.
Especially since she was the first woman my wolf side had ever taken an interest in.
I knew I’d pay later for this little bout of freedom, but eyeing the lass’s full lower lip and mouthwatering curves, I couldn’t exactly bring myself to care.
“Are you stalking me, princessa?” I didn’t know why I said that. She had admitted to being a royals fanatic yesterday. I should stay far, far away from her.
But who was I to deny destiny? My birthright was what put me into this situation in the first place. I had no choice in being the crown prince of Bashkiria. But fate? Seemed that even though I didn’t believe in it, if that fickle goddess was going to throw this woman in my path again, I could take the hint.
It’s not like she’d be my fated mate. That was only a fairytale. And only in recently in America did wolves get to chose their own mates. I’d be mated to someone who would boost the family either in reputation or power.
Certainly not a sweet American.
She laughed out loud and then covered her mouth when the row of students in front of us turned to stare. Every emotion this girl had was written across her face and she let them all out, hiding nothing. Including the lust sparkling in her eyes, even if it was tinged with a bit of embarrassment.
How nice it must be to behave in such a way. Her pure American-ness had my interest piqued. My cock’s too. Not to mention my wolf had already thoroughly chosen her as candidate number one for sowing my wild oats with.
She was about to slink down into the seat, and that would be the end of my brief flirtation with her. Nope. That was nothappening. I had precious little time and wanted to make the most of it. With her. I grabbed her notebook and her hand and pulled her up and out of her seat. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
There were way too many people looking at us anyway. Eventually someone would see through my nerdy glasses disguise.
She squeaked adorably, grabbed her knapsack off the seat, and squeezed my hand. “Are you kidnapping me?”
A stalker and a kidnapper, match made in heaven. “Quite. Come along quietly and I won’t have to spank you.”
Her eyes went wide at my dirty implication, but she was definitely interested. My kind of girl. We hurried out the back entrance to the hall and into the large courtyard. The early afternoon sunshine was no place to kiss the girl in private, and that was all I wanted to do.
Something about her had my libido on overdrive. Probably the fact that she had no idea who I was and her attraction wasn’t influenced by my position. Her magnificent tits didn’t hurt either.
That damn smell of ripe peaches had my mouth watering. I couldn’t wait to get a proper taste. My wolf pressed close to the surface, enough to have my teeth feeling a bit too sharp in my mouth, and I had to coax it back down. Having a beautiful bird run screaming from me because she caught a glimpse of a mouthful of wolf fangs wasn’t on my agenda.
I dragged her along to a circle of benches under a copse of large old trees outside the library. We were all alone, exactly the way I wanted her. The clock was ticking and the sooner I could romance her, the sooner we could get naked. I wondered if students really had sex in the stacks at the library as I’d seen in movies. That sounded like fun to me.
Sex of any sort sounded like fun. There was no way I was waiting until my mating ceremony like my father insisted. Onetoo many half-royal pups running around the castle, thanks to more randy cousins, and he had me and my social life under lock and key.
All I ever did was train, hunt, train some more, and make the occasional appearance where I had to pretend to be a mere human.
This tour of America, undercover or not, and this girl were my one chance to lose my virginity before I was mated. I pulled her down onto my lap. “What’s your name, love?”
She squirmed as if uncomfortable sitting on my leg, but I wrapped my arms around her plump rear end and held her tight.
“Anastasia, like the princess, but people call me Stacia. You’re from England, right? Or, oh, I guess you could be from some other part of Europe, but I’m pretty good at telling the difference. Geez, you’ve got me all flustered, I’m rambling and I haven’t even asked your name.” Her cheeks went pink, and I wanted to cup them between my hands and feel their warmth.
“I’m—” I had it all planned out that I would call myself some working man’s name like Harry or George. But I didn’t want to lie to her. I wasn’t sure my wolf would let me if I tried. Nobody ever saw me for me, and just once I wanted someone to. “I’m Bash.”
Thank fuck for my years at Eton and Cambridge for teaching me a British accent I could hide behind. It all added to the exchange student disguise. Ladies all around the world went a little weak in the knees for that James Bond thing. Or so the media led me to believe. I might as well give that a try. “I’ll say whatever you like and be from wherever you want me to be if you’ll kiss me.”
“What? Me?” Stacia scrambled off my lap and stood up. Her mouth hung open, and she stared at me. She looked around like I was talking to someone else.
I snagged her arms and gave them a tug to pull her between my legs. “Definitely you.”
“Oh... oh.” She blinked a bunch of times and glanced at me sideways through those long lashes.
Did she genuinely not know how gorgeous she was? How refreshing. The upper-class wolftresses in my social circles knew exactly how good looking they were and how to use that to their advantage. Every move, every scent, used to the best advantage. Not Stacia. Even her nickname was the opposite of the posh toddy’s looking to become the next Princess of Bashkiria.
I took her face between my hands and brought her mouth down to mine. Her breath was spicy cinnamon and coffee, and I couldn’t wait to taste her. Her lips parted on a soft sigh and her eyes fluttered shut. I brushed my bottom lip across hers and it was like electricity.
