His humor faded. ‘‘Maybe I am.’’
‘‘Why? Am I so very different? Can’t you treat me like any other woman in your life?’’
‘‘But you’re not like them.’’
He wasn’t making any sense. ‘‘What am I doing wrong?’’ she demanded. ‘‘Tell me how I’m different.’’
‘‘You just are.’’
‘‘That’s not an answer.’’
‘‘It’s the best I can do.’’
‘‘So you’ll never treat me like everyone else.’’
His mouth pulled into a straight line. ‘‘What do you want to know, Alex? What’s the point here?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I just wish—’’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘‘I wish you didn’t think of me as different. I wish you wouldn’t always worry about the whole princess issue.’’
‘‘I don’t.’’
‘‘Of course you do. Everything is different because of who I am and how you think you should treat me.’’
‘‘It’s not as different as you think.’’
She knew she was acting like an eight-year-old, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. ‘‘So if I wasn’t a princess, everything about our relationship would be the same?’’
He hesitated long enough for her to know that she’d hit on some truth.
‘‘What?’’ she asked. ‘‘What would be different?’’
He started to pull away. She grabbed on to his arms. ‘‘Mitch, tell me.’’
‘‘You think you’re so damn smart, don’t you?’’ He glared at her. ‘‘All right, princess, try this one on for size. If you weren’t my guest and my responsibility, not to mention royalty, I would toss you over my shoulder, carry you down the hall to my bedroom and make love with you until this time next week.’’
Chapter Thirteen
He was certainly direct, Alex thought in numb disbelief as she tried to figure out if Mitch had really said he wanted to make love with her or if she’d imagined it. She prayed it was the former, rather than the latter, because the thought of him wanting her that much made her want to throw herself at him and beg him to show her exactly what happened between a man and a woman.
‘‘At least you didn’t hit me,’’ he said, then cast her a sideways glance. ‘‘I probably shouldn’t have said that, but you were pushing me for an answer, and that’s the only one I could think of.’’
Her excitement faded as quickly as it had flared. ‘‘It was just a line?’’ she asked, trying hard to keep the disappointment from her voice.
He sat up straight. ‘‘Of course not. What kind of jerk do you think I am?’’
‘‘I don’t think you’re a jerk at all. I just wasn’t sure what you meant.’’ She had the uncomfortable feeling that their conversation had just taken a turn for the worse.
‘‘I meant—’’ he shook his head ‘‘—hell, I don’t know what I meant. The truth is you tie me up in knots. You have from the first moment you sashayed onto this ranch, looking like a million bucks in your city clothes and that pitiful excuse for a car.’’
She bristled. The Jaguar had been a reckless purchase—one of the few she’d ever allowed herself in her life. ‘‘What’s wrong with my car?’’
‘‘Nothing. It’s beautiful and impractical and has no business being here.’’ He reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘‘Just like you, princess. Just like you.’’
‘‘Oh, Mitch.’’ She felt herself leaning toward him. ‘‘Is this crazy?’’
‘‘Only if you want me as much as I want you.’’
Wanting. What did it feel like exactly? Alex wasn’t sure she knew. She’d never talked about the sensation with anyone before, mostly because it had never been an issue in her life. She’d been so sure she would be married by now and that she would experience whatever passion was to be in her life as a married woman. But she hadn’t married, and so far her parents showed no signs of finding her a husband. Were they waiting for her?
