Now it’s getting serious.
The limousine rolls up to the carpet, and Gerald, one of our royal drivers, steps out and opens my door. The flashbulbs go off the moment I step out, blinding me for a moment, but I quickly recover and walk around the car to reach Amelia.
Damn, I hate all this fuss. Still, I paste on my most charming smile and throw a knowing wink at the nearest female reporter, who immediately blushes.
When I offer Amelia my hand to help her out of the car, her stunning appearance hits me like a blow once again.
Her small hand settles in mine, and as she steps out with elegance and grace, she smiles at me warmly and openly. Her eyes shine and sparkle, almost burning into mine, making it hard to breathe and forcing me to fight the urge to stare with my mouth agape.
Fuck.
I want this woman. I want this smile.
Always.
I’m completely screwed when she looks up at me with those soft, blue eyes. The crowd cheers and voices swirl around us, but I tune them all out.
What I don’t ignore is how my arm possessively wraps around Amelia’s waist and pulls her close.
What I don’t ignore is the electric shock that runs through me when I feel her against my body, the chill running down my spine and the tingling that makes me want to pull her even closer.
What I don’t ignore is how she leans into me and places a hand on my heart which is pounding wildly beneath her touch and feels like it could burst out of my chest any second.
What I don’t ignore is how she keeps smiling at me, lovingly, as if I were the center of her world.
Double fuck.
Because that’s exactly what I want to be. I want to be that center.
“Prince Nicolas, is Lady Amelia your new girlfriend?”
“Are you a couple now?”
“Will you officially introduce yourselves as a couple this evening?”
The voices get louder, and I grow more possessive. With a jerk, I pull Amelia even closer, causing her eyes to widen briefly, and lean down toward her.
“Showtime, Goldilocks. Let’s show them what they want to see,” I whisper close to her mouth, and before I know what I’m doing, I press my lips to hers. Showing the world who she belongs to. Making my stance clear, one I didn’t even know I had until just now. And fuck, she smells and tastes absolutely amazing.
The kiss is chaste, no more than my lips on hers, and yet I’m lost, and screwed. Absolutely screwed. Slowly and reluctantly, I pull away from her, looking into her completely dazed eyes that are only now clearing again. I tune out the flashing lights and noise around me, keeping my focus solely on her.
She looks at me, confused, and a mischievous joy spreads inside me. Apparently, I’m not the only one having some trouble here.
“In love. Don’t forget that, Goldilocks.” With a devilish smile on my lips, I turn to the crowd, holding Amelia, who says nothing but still stays close to me.
“Prince Nicolas, how are you?”
“We’d like a brief statement, Prince Nicolas. Is it true that…”
I raise my hand to interrupt the reporters.
“Now, now, you know how this goes. No interviews. And now I’m going to enjoy the gala with my lovely companion. Have a pleasant evening.” With that, I gently but firmly guide Amelia toward the entrance, paying no further attention to the crowd.
“Whore.”
“Freeloader.”
“Title-chaser.”
