My own lips curved in a grin and I knew my gaze glimmered as I soaked in his handsome, muscular body. But I jokingly pushed him off. “You told the Dalai Lama that he was too uptight.”
He traced his finger over my skin, leaving a sweet singe in its path. “Oh, he knew I was joking. The press doesn’t pick up on sarcasm.”
No. Many people don’t, which was why I stopped using sarcasm to hide behind and taught myself to be vulnerable and honest to the world. I tilted my head and hoped this decision I’d come to was the best thing for both of us. I said, “I understand. Other people draw their own conclusions about us, and sometimes it hurts. Like being called a hypocrite.”
“Why, though?” He refilled my wine glass then added, “By the way, it’s good to see you aren’t as vacuous as I thought you might be.”
“You thought I was vacuous?”
He shrugged and clinked glasses with me. “You do call yourself an influencer, so I thought … maybe you were a little silly and shallow. I’m glad I was wrong about that.”
My skin was alive and jumping for him. Soon I’d be his and he’d be mine. We’d bind our souls with ceremony and physically. I forced my body to stop tensing, though it was sweet agony. I sipped my wine and said, “See? It’s okay to be wrong and admit that.”
His gaze narrowed. “You’re stalling.”
“Partly.” I sipped some more wine. My head was starting to get woozy. But I said, “I think being called a hypocrite because I was a virgin hurt because I’d never once claimed I’d had sex.”
“Can I turn off the light?” he asked quietly. I put my hands under my head and nodded. He pressed the light switch, and as he settled beside me, he said, “Don’t let people you don’t know get to you.”
Then, like magic fairies, his staff appeared and placed blankets and pillows for us.
I settled beside him and once I was sure we were alone, I said, “They normally don’t. It was just a sore spot.”
He reached out and held my hand as he said, “The press will find more sore spots when you’re formally declared a princess.”
My eyes fluttered closed as a scene from a movie where the royals all danced at the end played like a montage in my mind. I giggled, but said, “But I’ll get to turn it off.”
He scooted his pillow closer and my eyes fluttered opened, though he only said, “True.”
My lips knew he’d kiss me. The anticipation was there, and I ached for it, but I pressed my hand on his chest and said, “One more question, since we’re being this open.”
He cupped my side and I didn’t mind at all as he asked, “What’s that?”
Now I stilled. The question burned through me, but I had to ask, “What happened with Darla?”
He let me go and faced the ceiling. “Nothing.”
I propped myself up. This was important. I patted his chest. “I’d like to hear the whole thing, in your words.”
He got up and grabbed himself a glass of water. Once he’d finished, he returned to me and said, “Okay. I ditched Gio.”
This time I scooted up in my seat and crossed my legs. “And?”
His shoulders seemed tensed. Was he embarrassed? Hard to decide with the lights off. But he said, “And I went to a strip club because he’d not want to go in there looking for me. I drank quite a bit, and Darla listened to me and offered to marry me for a short time so I could be kicked out of my family.”
I knew before I met him that he had a reputation for reckless behavior with women. I leaned my head back on my pillow and said, “Keep going.”
He turned toward me and traced my legs through the fabric of my pants. “We went to a wedding chapel when her shift ended. Gio showed up just as we sealed the deal.”
This was recent history. I had to be prepared for the possibility that whatever happened between us could end at the same speed.
My head whispered that I’d make a fortune off being dumped.
My heart said to stop thinking. I pressed my lips together and simply said, “Busted, then.”
“Or saved.” He motioned for us to recline our seats. I scooted mine back and when he joined me, he said, “He erased my mistake, tucked me into bed, alone, and you walked into my room the next morning.”
My lips were still tight, but I met his gaze and was almost lost in the search for the truth in those blue eyes. I’d see them forever, if our deal was genuine. I swallowed and asked, “So that’s it? Did you have sex with her?”
