Royally Not Ready(32)
I remain neutral.
Unfazed. Not amused.
She huffs. “Well, I’d watch that movie. Anyhoo, what about this mop on my head? Am I going to have to do something with that? Or makeup?” She purses her lips at me and then blinks rapidly.
“No, you’re quite beautiful.” The words slip past me before I can stop them. But it’s true, sitting across from her . . . even with her eyes purposefully bugging out like that, she’s quite alluring. Her skin is like velvet—soft, smooth. Not yet distressed with wrinkles and worry lines. And her lips—full, plump, luscious. So enticing that I could see men begging her for attention. And her eyes, crystal as the sky, so blue that they actually feel intimidating at times.
You see, this is why she needs to stop jabbering because she’s loosening me up. She’s making me say things I shouldn’t even be thinking.
That smile of hers returns, and she sits taller. “You think I’m beautiful, Keller?”
Yes. But not just beautiful. Breathtaking. Extraordinary beauty that stops you in your tracks and forces you to stare. A beauty so strong that it can take down even the strongest of men to their knees.
I clear my throat. “Let’s move on.”
“Oh no, I really want to spend some time on the whole beautiful comment.” She taps her finger on the table, and my eyes watch the movement with annoying curiosity. Fuck, pull it together. This is the possible future queen. She’s not to be played with. She’s not one to fantasize about. She’s not for you.
Controlling myself, I ask, “Do you have any tattoos?”
“Not wanting to spend time on the beautiful comment, huh? Okay, fine, but that’s logged in my head.” She raps her temple. “But just to return the favor, I think you’re incredibly hot. The whole briefs thing was a refreshing new fantasy I didn’t know was essential to my personal rub club, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her eyebrows.
Jesus Christ, not information I needed to be branded into my brain.
And I’d like it to be known that it was not my intention for her to see me in nothing but a pair of briefs, but when I heard the crash downstairs, I sprinted out of bed, neglecting any sort of decency, because my number one thought was to make sure Lilly was okay. And then when I finally realized I was wearing only my briefs, there was nothing I could do other than allow her to stare. And she fucking stared. I hate to admit it, but the more her eyes landed on my crotch, the more I didn’t want to dress. The more I wanted her to continue to eat me up with those desperate eyes of hers. They were hungry, ravenous, and even though she had a head injury, it didn’t stop her from gawking. And I liked every goddamn second of it.
But that’s neither here nor there.
“Lilly,” I say, “please refrain from bursting out with personal commentary.”
“Made you uncomfortable, didn’t I? Are you a shy one, Keller? Strong and mighty, but squishy and soft? Can’t take a compliment?” She shrugs. “Sorry to say, but facts are facts—you’re a hottie with a body . . . and a weenie that’s not so teenie.”
“Lilly,” I snap. “Just . . . stop. Okay?”
She smirks, because she knows what she’s doing. She’s getting under my skin, and it’s obvious that’s her intention. Does she possess a self-controlled bone in her body? And if so, will she fucking use it?
“Do you have any tattoos?”
Still smiling, she shifts on her chair and answers, “I do.”
“Where?” I ask the question for the crown, not my own personal knowledge, but I can feel the increase in my pulse from the thought of her having a tattoo. To me, they’ve always been a way to express myself. The stories behind them, the placement—they all mean something. And the fact that she has one makes her that much more attractive in my eyes.
She pulls back her sleeve and flashes me the underside of her left forearm. On her wrist, just below her thumb, are three pea-sized hearts.
“I got this when my parents passed away. The three hearts represent us as a family and also our symbol for I love you. Every night, before bed, my parents would squeeze my hand three times while saying, I love you. One squeeze for each word.” She smooths her fingers over it. “I can’t get rid of it, if it’s going to be a problem.”
I take her wrist in my hand and run my thumb over the hearts, feeling her gentle pulse pick up while I stare at the ink embedded in her skin. A marking of family. A marking of love.
It’s subtle, yet . . . incredibly sexy. And honorable . . . as it shows loyalty. That’s something I can work with.
When I look up and our eyes connect, I say, “This won’t be a problem.”
She wets her lips, her gaze holding mine. A stroke of heat pierces through the thick air forming between us. My hand is still gripping her wrist, and I feel the connection between us, tugging me in her direction. “Ar-are you sure?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
I sweep my thumb over her wrist again and nod. “King Theo has a few tattoos. The question wasn’t to say you’re not allowed to have them, but more so, are there any inappropriate ones. This isn’t inappropriate.”
Even though I don’t want to, I let go of her hand.
“Oh. Okay.” Her teeth roll over her bottom lip. What I wouldn’t give to know exactly what’s going through her mind right now. Because for once, she’s quiet, not voicing her thoughts.