Courting His Royal Highness (12 page)

“Are you ready to dazzle Phoenix with our charms?” asked Max.

She tilted her head slightly so she could view his face. He seemed to tower above her. So broad. So muscular. So spectacularly handsome. An amused smile tipped the corners of his mouth up. And the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so attractively.

I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love.

The knowledge was wonderful and horrifying at the same time.

She smiled up at him. “The question is, are
you
ready?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, challenging him.

He chuckled. His fingers curled about her elbow. She suddenly wished she’d remembered to exfoliate the rough skin. A little lotion wouldn’t have hurt either, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. His European sweeties probably exfoliated all the time; their skin was probably as soft as a baby’s bottom. Of course, they didn’t shave. At least she had that over them. She’d shaved that very morning and was thankful she had. Rough elbows and knees and heels could be forgiven, but not hairy legs.

“Where are we off to, Simon?” Max asked.

Chloe dipped into the limo, her fingers lingering against Max’s. She didn’t want to lose the skin-to-skin contact.

The driver grinned. “A popular fondue restaurant.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“It is. One of the best in Phoenix, sir.”

Max slid in beside Chloe, and his fingers curled around hers. “Fondue fan?”

Chloe admitted she’d never had fondue.

“Tonight will be a new experience for the both of us.” He brushed her knuckles with a kiss. His blue eyes never left her face.

Delicious shivers shimmied up Chloe’s spine.

“Cold?”

“No.”

He draped his arm about her and pulled her close. She happily rested her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and resigned herself to enjoying this one night alone with Prince Max. They had one night together before the crew arrived—and before the bombshells vying for his attention showed up with their claws extended.

“I want this night to go on forever,” he whispered against her hair.

She snuggled close. “Me, too.”

The limo lurched forward, slowly rolling down the winding driveway towards the tall iron gates marking the entrance into the estate. The gates swung inward, and Simon steered the luxurious car out onto a road lined with tall palm trees, with white lights circling the slim trunks.

“Do you think you’ll be noticed tonight? Have a hundred autographs to sign?”

“I hope not. I don’t want any distractions.” He kissed the top of her head. “I want to focus completely on you.”

“Sounds marvelous,” she murmured. And she wanted the same. She wanted to share him with no one. He was hers and hers alone. At least for tonight. After that, she’d have to share him with a television crew, fifteen bachelorettes, and the world.

And have her heart broken all over again.

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The fondue restaurant was located in one of the many outdoor shopping plazas Scottsdale was famous for. Towering palm trees lined the entrance to the plaza; hundreds of tiny white lights wrapped about the thick trunks. It was a warm autumn night—even in October, the temperatures still soared in the high 90s—and dozens of people sat on outdoor patios laughing and visiting, cooling down with glasses of chilled wine and other thirst-quenching beverages.

A bubbly blonde hostess welcomed Chloe and Max into the restaurant and soon seated them in a cozy booth for two in back. Chloe was disappointed the place didn’t have outside seating, but it was a charming place with small secluded booths and soft candlelight. It was very romantic and amazingly quiet. The gentle sound of classical music floated out through nearly invisible speakers in an overhead sound system.

“Nice place,” Max commented as he slid in across from her. He grabbed the wine list and thumbed through it. “Drinks?”

Chloe nodded. She unfolded the linen napkin and placed it on her lap. She noticed her knees were shaking and covered them with her hands. This guy—actually, this prince—did something to her. He totally unbalanced her. And she wasn’t used to being out of control. Nope. She was an in-control-of-herself gal.

She looked over at Max. He smiled at her over the top of the wine menu. There was no way he could see her knees shaking, but she had a feeling he knew she was nervous. Of course she was; after all, she was having dinner with royalty. She couldn’t resist smiling back. His smile was contagious. Heck,
he
was contagious. Yep. A hunky, delicious, contagious disease no woman in her right mind would want a cure for. Unless, of course, there was no way she could have him.

“A favorite?”

“Chardonnay or Riesling. I think I’d like a Riesling.”

“Fabulous choice. I think I’ll have the same.” He folded the menu and placed it in its designated pewter holder at the far end of the table.

A waitress took their drink order and handed them a dark blue dinner menu. She rambled off the specials, flashed a big-toothed smile, and looked Max up and down appreciatively before walking away.

“She was checking you out.”

Max glanced up from the menu. “Oh?”

Chloe laughed. “You don’t seem surprised.”

He shrugged. “I’m just happy she didn’t notice who I am.”

“Like the flight attendant?”

A wicked grin split his countenance. “Exactly!”

Still laughing, Chloe flipped open the menu. It wasn’t long before her mouth was watering. The choices were scrumptious: Raspberry vinaigrette salad, lime-cilantro salad, bread and cheeses, filet mignon, lobster, and shrimp; and strawberries and cheesecake dipped in chocolate fondue for dessert.

Chloe leaned forward. “I think I’m going to enjoy fondue,” she whispered.

Max duplicated her move. His hands closed over hers. The warmth of his fingers against her skin sent delightful shivers throughout her body. She liked his touch. She liked his touch so very much. She couldn’t recall a man who’d ever had this much of an effect on her. Why, oh why was he unavailable? Why, oh why couldn’t she have met him under different circumstances? But without the show, she’d never have met him. It wasn’t as though they traveled in the same social circles. Far from it.

“I think I’d like it better if we were alone back at the mansion.”

An erotic thought flashed through her mind. Him. Her. Warm, gooey chocolate dripping on their bodies. The very idea of him licking chocolate from the valley between her breasts sent her heart into a tailspin. She wrenched her fingers from his and sat as far back in the booth as she could, as far away from him as possible. She looked down at her hands and nervously played with the edges of the silky cloth napkin.

“I apologize,” he said softly, “but my mind is filled with thoughts of you—and they aren’t G-rated.”

“I know. Me too,” she murmured, gazing up at him through her lashes.

The waitress brought their wine. Chloe grabbed her glass and took a long sip.

“Ready to order?”

Chloe glanced down at the menu. The words blurred. She couldn’t think straight. Food was the farthest thing from her mind. She craved
him
. She hungered for
him
. She wanted to devour him with her lips and her tongue and….

“We’ll have the Couple’s Special.”

Chloe didn’t even know what was in the special, but she didn’t really care.

The waitress nodded, batted her lashes at Max, slid the menus from the table, and wandered off again, but not before looking back at Max over her shoulder.

“I think you’ve got another fan.”

Max sighed. “She’s pretty, but I’m not interested. I only have eyes for you, Chloe. I’ve only had eyes for you since we met.”

“We just met.” She looked at her watch. “Have we even known each other for twenty-four hours?”

He chuckled. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled. She loved that. Gosh, how she loved that. And he dimpled. Gosh, she loved that too. Was there anything she didn’t like—love—about him? Oh, yeah, he was off-limits. That sucked. She just had to keep reminding herself of that fact. Otherwise her heart would be lost. And she couldn’t take that chance.

“All I can think about is loving you.”

Her heart flip-flopped. “Loving me?” she squeaked.

“Yeah.” He took her hand and brushed his lips against the tender skin of her wrist. “Loving your entire body like I did at the party. Making love to you. You were so wonderful, Chloe. You’ve intoxicated me.”

So that was what he meant. He didn’t actually
love
her. He simply loved having sex with her. Two completely different things. Opposite ends of the spectrum, really.

“Max, stop kissing me.”

He stopped and pulled away, a hurt expression on his handsome face. Chloe hid her hands under the table and tucked her feet under her seat. The best thing to do was to avoid contact with him—when he touched her, she lost all self-control.

She sighed sadly. “What you must think of me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? You must know I think you’re wonderful.”

“In bed!” She spoke the words before she thought and was instantly mortified. She covered her face with one hand and then peeked between her fingers and looked around to make sure no one had heard her outburst. But nobody was there to witness it, because the secluded booth was separated from everyone else’s. She looked at Max. He was fighting a smile. Nope. He was trying not to laugh. His eyes sparkled. She almost flung her napkin at him. “This is not funny!”

“It is. Didn’t we clear this up?”

“Will we ever?” she asked softly, removing her hand from her face and setting it on the table.

“I don’t think any less of you because you slept with me on the first date.”

She grimaced. “We weren’t even on a date. I didn’t know you at all.”

“We’ll call it a blind date.”

Chloe groaned and slouched in her seat. “Great. That’s much better. So much for Midwestern values.” She shook her pointer finger at him. “Don’t laugh. Don’t you dare.”

He bit his lower lip. “I’m trying to convince you that it hardly matters to me. I know you don’t make it a habit to sleep with men, and—”

“Strangers. I don’t make it a habit to sleep with strangers.”

“So, you do sleep with lots of men?”

She gasped. “I most certainly do not.”

He laughed. “I didn’t think so.”

Honeyed warmth flowed through Chloe at the sound of his masculine laughter. It was rich and timbered, and it wrapped her in a cozy, fuzzy, irresistible blanket. She could listen to him laugh all day long.

“Well, I’m certainly not wife-material for a royal prince. What I did with you”—the heat in her cheeks flamed bright—“was very unladylike.”

Max snorted. “Nonsense. You’re a lady, Chloe. You’re more of a lady than half the blue-bloods in Europe.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Truly? You don’t think less of me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you’d never think seriously about a woman who—”

“I would.”

“Would what?” she whispered. His opinion was very important to her. She wanted him to respect her. She wanted him to look at her and not see a passionate one-night encounter, but a woman he could spend the rest of his life with.

“I would because I am. I’m thinking very seriously about you, Chloe. You have no idea how seriously.”

Chloe swallowed another drink of wine. She didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know what to say to him; she didn’t know how to respond. Why had she brought it up? Why? It didn’t matter. They couldn’t possibly be together. It just couldn’t happen.

“It’s nice to know, even though—” Suddenly, she couldn’t speak a word. Her throat constricted. She looked away from him, at the shimmering liquid in the wineglass. She could use another glass.

“Chloe, what do you think about me?”

She blinked, startled by his question and stared up into his amazing blue, blue, blue eyes. “Pardon?”

“Me. Tell me what you think about me.”

“You’re a prince.”

He rolled his eyes. “Besides that.”

“Well, I like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded slightly shaky, and his lopsided grin made her want to jump across the table, throw her arms about his neck, and kiss him.

“Well, that’s good to know. But maybe you don’t think I’m much of a gentleman.”

She studied him for a long moment, admiring the breadth of his shoulders and the broad expanse of his chest. “I said I liked you, didn’t I? Why would I like you if I didn’t consider you a gentleman?”

“Good point. But a true gentleman wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman.”

Feeling insulted, she stiffened. “I was not drunk. Tipsy, maybe, but not drunk.”

His eyes widened. His eyebrows lifted. His dimples deepened. She saw the merriment in his eyes. He was enjoying this exchange—and she was too. More than she’d thought possible.

She hoped the food would never arrive. She wanted to talk and laugh with him all night long. It felt natural; it felt intimate, far more intimate than their sexual encounter of the night of the ball.

“Still, a gentleman does not seduce a woman whom he knows is intoxicated.”

“You did not seduce me. I seduced you.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps we’re both to blame.”

She agreed and hoisted the wineglass in the air. “Should we toast on it?”

Max lifted his glass. “To being ungentlemanly and—”

“Unladylike,” she finished with a giddy giggle.

“Because I wouldn’t trade
our
night for anything.”

Chloe looked deep into his eyes as their glasses clanked together. “Neither would I, Max. Neither would I.”

And she meant it with her whole heart. No matter what happened in the weeks to come, she’d never ever regret the one night they’d shared together. It was too beautiful to regret. It was too real and glorious and magical. She’d never forget. The memories of that night would have to last her for years to come, because she knew she loved the man who sat before her. It was the type of love that was meant to last forever.

It was the type of love that could never be.

She felt like a gloom-and-doom heroine in a romance novel.