Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(17)

It grew hot. Or at least Penelope did. Fire pooled in her belly, her secret places damp and awakening.

If he laid her down now, Penelope would let him have her. A light breeze touched her ankles, and she suddenly wanted to feel it on the length of her legs. She wanted Damien’s strong hand behind her knee, touching, caressing.

“I’ve never,” she said softly as the kiss eased to a close, “wanted such things before.”

Damien stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “I am pleased that you want them with me.”

“I do not know why I am saying these things.” Penelope lifted her hand to his cheek, mirroring how he touched her. “I must stop before I do something foolish.”

“Such as fall in love with me?” Damien turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “That is not foolish.”

“Please.”

Penelope did not know whether she meant Please, stop or Please, never stop.

Damien brought the backs of her fingers to his lips. “I’ll not press you, Penelope. I never will.” He lightly licked the tip of her middle finger. “But please let me kiss you while I’m waiting for you to make up your mind.”

Why did she want to smile when he spoke so? Touch him when he touched her?

Three years ago, at age eighteen, Penelope had fallen giddily in love with a gentleman called Rueben White. He had reasonably good looks, a modest income, and no interest in what was inside books, but he’d been the first man to pay attention to wallflower Penelope. After she’d danced with him at a supper ball given by one of their neighbors, and Rueben had made it known he wanted to call on her, she’d not been able to eat for three days or sleep for seven. She’d lain awake each night with her heart beating rapidly, her stomach a-flutter, and a smile on her face.

Infatuation, she’d realized later. Not love. She’d banished such foolishness from her mind with stern determination.

Now, when Damien kissed her, Penelope felt that long-forgotten flutter leap up to remind her what a ninny she could be.

Penelope should dismiss Damien and his unlikely offer of marriage and go about her business. Lock herself in her room and finish the new collection of tales she had begun translating this spring. Never see him again.

Instead, Penelope sat still, letting him kiss her.

Her infatuation was springing to life all over again. Only this time the end would be so much worse.

Damien was speaking, his lips red-brown in his sun-touched face. She’d already noted that the right corner of his mouth moved upward first when he smiled.

“I know many Nvengarian fairy tales,” he said. “I will tell them to you.”

Penelope’s interest stirred. “I would like that.”

His look turned wicked. “I will tell them to you while you lie next to me in our marriage bed.”

Penelope had a sudden vision of Damien lounging languidly on pillows, his body bare and his eyes warm, while he related stories in his velvet voice. Penelope sucked in a breath, suddenly dizzy.

“Now you are trying to woo me with fairy tales,” she said thickly.

“Why should I not?” Damien lifted the tip of her forefinger to his mouth. “It is inevitable that we marry. I say we do not fight it.”

She shivered, his mouth hot on her finger. “You would marry me because a prophecy says you must?”

Damien gave her a half wink. “I always do what I am told.”

Penelope tried to withdraw her hand, but he would not release it. Or perhaps she was not trying hard enough. “I believe you do precisely as you please. You let everyone think they are doing as they wish, but you direct without saying a word.”

“Perhaps,” Damien said with a slight shrug. “Do not tell on me, all right?”

When he looked at her like that, a teasing gleam in his eyes, Penelope couldn’t help smiling in response. Drat him.

Damien’s smile faded. “You see through me well, Penelope. But do not try to see too much. You might not like what you find.”

The glance he flashed at her was dark, speaking of depths he kept buried far beneath his ready smile. Of things he kept hidden from the world, and perhaps even himself. Most puzzling.

Penelope opened her mouth to ask more questions, but in that moment, Meagan called out to them from below.

“Are you finished kissing yet, Penny?” she asked. “I vow, I have been hiding behind this tree for the longest time.”





Chapter 6





Penelope jerked her hand from Damien’s and half rose, her face scalding. “Meagan, you ought to have announced yourself.”

“I did announce myself,” Meagan said as she climbed the steps. “Just now. Did you say yes, Pen? You must have—you were certainly kissing him enough.”

Damien grinned at Meagan, his bleak look vanishing. He gently pulled Penelope down beside him again. “I am trying to convince her.”

“You will,” Meagan said with confidence. “My best friend in the whole world is marrying a prince. I believe I shall swoon.” She flopped to the floor of the folly, her skirt rucking up her slender legs. “Someone fan me.”

Damien obligingly waved his hand in front of Meagan’s face.

“Get up, you ninny,” Penelope said in exasperation.

“A prince,” Meagan said, ignoring her. “Just fancy. Do they have many dukes in Nvengaria, Prince Damien? Could you make one marry me?”