He runs his fingers through his golden-blond hair and says, “Yeah, we were sort of hooking up now and then, but we weren’ttogether. The last time I saw her, she told me she had started seeing someone else and that we couldn’t continue to see each other.”
My ears perk up at this. “Do you know who it was?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. She said it was someone from one of the High Houses, but she was secretive about it and didn’t want to tell me who it was.”
My net doesn’t snag. He’s telling the truth.
“That’s weird,” is all I say, trying not to show too much interest in it. But my mind is churning. Who the hell could it be?
“Anyway, I was over her a long time ago,” he says. “We had a good thing, but it wasn’t serious, at least for me. I think we were on different pages about what we wanted from the relationship.”
“I’m sorry that you lost her, though,” I say, my voice soft. “Even if you weren’t together, that must have been hard to lose her.”
He nods at that. “It was a shock. I’m okay, though. That might sound cold, but I wasn’t in love with her. She was more of a good friend by the end.”
A cold truth, but still a truth.
My eye snags on the picnic basket still on the embankment. “August,” I groan. “You forgot the picnic basket.”
“No,” he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I didn’t forget anything.”
“What do you mean?”
He stands, careful to avoid tipping the canoe. His movements are fluid and graceful, and I’m reminded that although he is kind and doesn’tlookmenacing, he is still a High Prince, and that means he is a trained warrior from birth.
He removes his leather shoes, then his socks, dropping each one to the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, watching every movement.
“I’m going to get the picnic basket,” he says as if that explains why he’s undressing.
Oh no…He’s not about to jump in the lake, is he?
He slowly undoes the buttons of his shirt, each movement revealing another slip of perfectly tanned and chiseled skin. He finishes unbuttoning the shirt and shrugs it off. I count six individual abs on his perfectly chiseled stomach. My mouth dries.
Then, he starts to tug down his pants. My cheeks flame, and I avert my gaze. I was not expecting to see him—or anyone, for that matter—strip today.
The canoe wobbles, and I turn my head back in time to see him dive into the water. His powerful figure cuts through the surface as he swims to the embankment in a few strokes.
He hops out of the water, and I can’t help but admire the view. His toned back glistens in the sun, beads of water clinging to his skin. A drop of water trails down his back and to his firm backside. He turns, and I snap my gaze back up.
He holds the picnic basket raised in one hand, like there was a race to grab it and he won the prize.
“How are you going to get it back over here?” I call to him. He winks at me, then floats the basket over to the canoe. “You can’t be serious,” I say. “You could’ve just done that from the beginning!”
“Well then I wouldn’t have had a reason to give you a show,” he says innocently as he floats the picnic basket to me and gently sets it on the floor of the canoe.
I can’t help the laughter that erupts from my mouth. He smiles in return, then dives back into the water and swims back to the canoe. He hauls himself up from the side, miraculously not flipping the canoe in the process.
He summons wind and dries himself before reaching over and pulling a blanket from the picnic basket and draping it across his lap. I pull out a bottle of champagne and two glasses, then pop the bottle and pour the foaming alcohol into each glass.
“I’m sorry if I scared you by bringing you here. I hope I made up for it with my antics,” he says, glancing at me over the rim of his glass, a soft smile on his face. He looks almost bashful, and my stomach does a flip.
Oh, fuck it.
I set my glass down and lean across the canoe, pressing my lips to his. The canoe wobbles beneath us, but I don’t care.
I surprise him, and it takes him a second to respond. When he does, he wraps his free hand around the back of my neck and opens his mouth, his tongue brushing against my lips. I open my mouth in welcome, and his tongue swirls around mine. My mind goes hazy at the feel. I want to get lost in the salty, sweet taste of him. I run my hand through his hair, his blond locks soft on my fingers.
