The Virgin's Playboy Prince Read online

  She follows me up the winding staircase and bumps into me when I stop at the second floor. “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “You can have the master suite. It’s got the best view.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shrug. I love the master, but she deserves to be treated like a queen and that’s what I’m going to do for her. “I like the room upstairs better. The bed is bigger.” Leading her down the short hall, I open the bedroom door, and she gasps when we walk inside the room.

  “This is…beautiful. I’ve never been inside this room.”

  “Of course not. It’s typically the king and queen’s quarters. Although, I have to admit, the bedrooms have been completely renovated since the last time you were here.”

  “This will be so different from sleeping in a bunkbed with Waverly.”

  I laugh. “I should hope so. She snores.”

  “She does! She swears I’m lying, but she kept me awake most nights when we’d share a room.”

  I don’t know why, but I can’t keep myself from reaching out and brushing a stray lock of hair from Gemma’s face. My fingers brush her cheek, and the softness of her skin has me wondering if she’s soft everywhere. She’s so different from her sister. In fact, she’s different from the girl I knew when we were all kids. Or maybe I’m seeing her in another light. Her fire and sass are endearing, if infuriating, and I want more.

  Her green eyes lock on mine, and I see indecision there. She wants me, but she hates everything I mean to her. Her lashes flutter, cheeks flush, breath hitches, and I know I could kiss her right now, and she wouldn’t stop me. Instead, I rein it in and back away.

  Clearing my throat, I say, “I’ll just…take my bag upstairs.”

  Disappointment is etched on her features, but this is the right choice. She deserves love. That’s not what I can give her. A marriage to me means a life of duty to the country. It means producing heirs rather than children. It means putting on a show every single day.

  “Ryder?” she calls as I step into the hall.

  I turn to face her, and, damn it, but my chest squeezes. “Yes?”

  “I…” It seems like she wants to say something important, maybe ask me to come back. But then her gaze falls to the floor and she says, “I’ll make us some lunch.”

  I nod and leave, dragging a hand through my hair as I go. What is happening? I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Is it all the wedding nonsense, the pretending, the time spent together? Whatever this is, it needs to stop. My heart can’t be pining for hers when I know she doesn’t want to be mine. Hell, I don’t want to be hers either. Do I?

  Climbing the stairs two at a time, I take the first room and throw my bag on the bed. I need a shower, and some relief. I’ve been hard since she arrived. Every movement she made, every slight sigh or stretch, had me fighting my unbidden desire.

  I pull at the buttons on my shirt, taking entirely too long to undress. I need the cold water on my skin washing away thoughts of a woman who has never wanted to be mine.

  Chapter 6

  Gemma

  Ryder hasn’t come downstairs yet, and part of me is thankful for it. He’s stirring up much more than the usual disdain I allow myself to feel for him. Why now? How can I be developing feelings for this man? He’s proven himself to be a player. He broke my sister’s heart and made her run away from her family, from a marriage to a man who she swore to me wouldn’t respect her.

  I’ve wrapped up in a chunky knit cardigan and leggings, a far cry from my tailored trousers and Stella McCartney blouse from earlier, but I’m not trying to impress anyone. My thick wool socks make my feet nearly soundless on the hardwood floor as I mill about the living space. All decorated in tones of cream and gray, the chalet is soothing and calm. It’s a sanctuary.

  The kitchen is spotless, and though I initially thought the chalet was the same as always, it’s clear Ryder was just humoring me. There have been extensive updates done over the years. State of the art appliances in the kitchen for one. I start searching for something to make us for lunch, opening cupboards and then turning to the refrigerator. I can’t help but smile at the strawberries and brown sugar. My favorite. I press my fingertips to my lips as I stare at the small bag of sugar. He remembered my favorite treat.

  “I see you found your surprise.” Ryder’s voice catches me off guard, making me jump.

  “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “There’s sour cream in there too. Did you find that?”

  I grin and look up at him. “I didn’t realize you bought it special for the strawberries.”

  “You’re the only person I know who likes to eat strawberries this way.” He takes the carton of berries from me and places it on the counter. “Why don’t we open a bottle of wine?”

  His phone beeps in his pocket and mine chirps from my coat at the other end of the room. “Go ahead,” I tell him, when he gives me an apologetic look. I understand, though. We both have responsibilities. Those don’t stop because we’re out here.

  I grab a plate, then begin washing and drying the berries. Each one looks like it was handpicked. Red, ripe, perfect. I place a dollop of sour cream in a small bowl and add a second bowl filled with brown sugar. The process clears my head and brings me back to our predicament. There’s someone out there for me. A man who is perfect for me in every way. One who will truly love me. Ryder is not that man. But I’m starting to wish he was.

  “Fucking hell,” he mutters, glancing up from his phone. “You’d better go check your messages.”

  “What?” My heart lurches. Has something happened? Rushing to my coat, I pull my phone from the pocket and see a message from Waverly. It’s to both Ryder and me.

  Sorry for springing Ryder on you, Gem, but it couldn’t be helped. You two are perfect for each other, but neither of you will admit it. I know you both think this is only for a night, but I’m not sending a car for you until this is sorted. I’ve left you a questionnaire to do together. You’ll understand why when you read it. Don’t text me until it’s complete.

  “Meddling little sister,” Ryder grumbles, reaching across me and collecting two wine glasses. “Definitely time to break out the wine.” His arm brushes mine, and an involuntary shiver of desire runs through me, collecting in my core. “Red?” he asks, his breath whispering over my nape.

  “Yes.” The word is so soft I almost don’t hear it.

  Then he’s gone, heading to the wine cellar, no doubt. I can breathe without him near me, but everything feels…cold. I pick up the plate with our snack and walk out to the living room. The fireplace glows as orange flames lick the wood within. Ryder must’ve gotten it started while I was in the kitchen. I settle on the couch, placing the food on the sleek glass coffee table. There’s a thick leather portfolio on the couch next to me with Waverly embossed on the front in gold script. This must be our questionnaire.

  “Found it, I see.” Ryder holds an open bottle of red in one hand and the two wine glasses in the other. He grins and sets the glasses on the table before pouring both of us large servings of what looks like a vintage Grenache. “Cheers, darling,” he says, handing me a glass.

  “Cheers.” I take a long gulp, not bothering to savor the wine. “Let’s get this over with.”

  There’s just the barest clench of his jaw before he downs half his own glass and opens the folder. “Okay, here we are.” He hands me a thick stack of papers, keeping one for himself.

  “Good lord, that’s a lot of information.”

  He grins. “Waverly is nothing if not thorough. We’ll finish this tonight and get out of here in record time.”

  My chest tightens. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He starts reading through the questions and frowns. ”Good lord, these are personal. I think we need at least a full bottle down before we dive in. This is like a dating profile.”

  “Well, we’re never going to make it through, then.”

  “Do you have so little faith in me?”

/>   “I have little faith in me. Honestly, I’ve never dated.”

  His lips turn up in a smirk. “Because you were saving yourself for your prince?”

  I scoff, rolling my eyes. “No. I just…I suppose I wanted more.”

  “More?”

  “Well, I guess it’s partially to do with you. Until recently, I thought you were perfection. I watched you with my sister, knowing she’d found her prince without even trying, and I knew I’d never have that, so why bother?”

  “But you never spoke to me. You wanted nothing to do with me.”

  I can’t look at him, not when he’s sitting inches away. “I wanted everything to do with you. Until you made it clear I was nothing but an annoyance.”

  His fingers slide across my knee until his big palm rests on my thigh. “Gem, I didn’t…fuck, I was an idiot.”

  I stare down at his hand and debate whether I want to stop him, stop this from happening. Because I know if I look into his eyes I’ll see desire, unbridled and real. If I face him, I’ll kiss him, and for the life of me, I can’t recall why that would be a bad thing right now.

  Clearing my throat, I pull back, then flip the top page of the packet. “So, we just fill these out?”

  A mischievous glint flashes in his eyes. “We could…or we could do it like a Q and A. Maybe play a drinking game while we’re at it.”

  My chest tightens. I’m already on the knife’s edge of giving in to him and letting him play my body like a fiddle.

  “Okay. I’ll go first.” I scan the long list of questions and start with the first one. “How do you feel about children? Do you want them?”

  He takes a drink and nods. “Loads. I want a small army.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. What? You don’t think I’m father material?”

  “I always saw you as the type who’d avoid that kind of responsibility.”

  “Well, I’m not. One point for me. How about you?”

  “Yes, I want kids. I don’t know how many. I guess I’ll have to see how it goes having one first.”

  He glances down his packet and fills in his answer while I do the same on mine. “Right, my turn. How frequently do you want sex?”

  I choke on my wine. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just reading the questions. It’s important that a relationship have a healthy sex life.”

  “I’ve never had it, so I wouldn’t know.” I must be blushing enough to match the strawberries.

  “Come off it, Gem. Just because you’re a virgin, that doesn’t mean you don’t fantasize.”

  I think about all the times I’ve imagined sex, sex with Ryder, and my nipples harden. “Um…frequently.”

  “Every day for me. I want it every damn day if I can get it.” He sits back and stretches enough for me to make out the bulge in his jeans.

  “My turn,” I say, needing to change the subject. “Does your career define you or just pay the bills?”

  His brow furrows. “I suppose being the future king defines me. It certainly pays the bills.”

  “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”

  He takes my hand and runs a thumb over my knuckles. “No. It’s not stupid. What about you? Your career?”

  I think of my literacy charities, my outreach to underprivileged children who are at risk. “My causes define me. I suppose you could call that my career.”

  “Sounds like it to me. Honestly, we’re lucky. Money isn’t an issue for either one of us. Perhaps it’s easy to lose sight of that.”

  “Next question?”

  He nods, raises his glass, and takes a drink. I follow, feeling looser and more relaxed as the time passes. We laugh and play, eating our strawberries and finishing the bottle of wine as we work our way through the extensive questionnaire. Every answer has me falling harder for this man.

  “Okay, last one. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

  A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “DisneyWorld.”

  I laugh. “Really?”

  “I’ve been once, as a young child. My gran took us. She dressed us like tourists with sunglasses and big floppy hats. Slathered us in sunscreen, and we did the whole thing. We waited in lines for hours, ate junk food, whined when we were tired. I’m pretty sure I still have the fanny-pack she made each of us wear. For one day, we weren’t royals. My sisters and I were just normal kids.”

  My damn heart twists with an unexpected longing for him. I want to know him, not let him go and live lives estranged from one another after we’re married.

  “How about you?”

  Here. If I could go anywhere it would be here with him. But how do I tell him that?

  “Ryder…I want—” My words catch in my throat. I reach for my wine and drink down the rest, relishing the burn of alcohol in my blood. Every word he’s said since we arrived, maybe since before that, has drawn me in rather than pushed me away. We’ll never work as husband and wife—not if we don’t love each other. But we can use this night to our own ends.

  Leaning forward, I let my desire take control. His lips pull into a frown as he assesses me. “Gem? Are you all right?”

  Here it is. In this moment I know this is my chance to have my fantasy come to life. Swallowing hard, I gather my courage and work to stop my shaking limbs as adrenaline kicks in. “It seems…well, it seems you’re not so bad after all.”

  He laughs, but then his gaze finds mine and the mood in the room changes. Heat blossoms in his eyes, his hand rests on my knee, then travels up my thigh. Tingles run across my skin at the slightest touch. “It seems you’re not so bad either.”

  I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. “I’ve never been with a man. But right now, all I want is to be with you.”

  His palm leaves my thigh and my heart sinks, until he takes my chin between his fingers and turns me to face him. With his free hand, he removes the empty wine glass from my grasp and sets it on the table. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

  “Yes,” I breathe, leaning into him. “I want you to give me what I’ve been so scared of. Take my virtue before this fairytale night is over.”

  He groans and wraps his hand around my nape, pulling me to him. His lips crash against mine in a frantic, desperate song of sighs and moans. He is my prince tonight and in my fantasies, he’ll be this charming, this perfect, for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 7

  Ryder

  All this time. All this fucking time, she’s been holding back. This beautiful creature has been within my grasp as so much more than a requirement of duty.

  “I thought you hated me,” I murmur against her lips as I work the sweater off her shoulders.

  “I hated who I thought you were. But you’re so much more than a playboy prince.”

  It makes me sick to know she thought of me that way, but wasn’t that the persona I took on? I never wanted people to take me too seriously. If I did, that meant they’d start looking to me for leadership. I wasn’t ready to lead. Now, with Gemma in my arms…I can be the man I want to be. I can be the king—I’ll have to be before long.

  Her soft moan sends an ache through me. She needs me right now. She needs my tender touches and loving caresses, not the wild, hard fuck I want. We’ll get there. We’ve got our whole lives together.

  I grip the silk end of her camisole and pull it over her head, baring her small, perfect breasts. Before she can have time to be self-conscious, I drop my lips to her tight, pink nipple and take it into my mouth. She arches into me, her cry of pleasure spurring me on. Her hand grips my thigh, so tight it almost hurts. “Oh, God, Ryder.”

  I take her hand and slide it up until she reaches my throbbing cock. Then I run my own across her torso to up her other breast. She fits in my palm perfectly—like she was made for me. I can’t wait to get her under me. In one smooth movement, I lie her back on the sofa, her red hair spilling across the white fabric. She looks like an angel, and I wonder how I could’ve ever lived
without the possibility of her.

  “Have you never been touched by a man?” I ask, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her soft black leggings. “Has anyone tasted you?”

  She stiffens under me and whispers, “No one.”

  “Good. I want to be the only man who brings you pleasure.” The little whimper that falls from her when I slip the fabric down her legs makes me bite back a groan. “Darling, I need to touch you,” I beg. “Open for me.”

  She does. My beautiful girl parts her thighs and grants me access to her pink, glistening pussy. “Ryder, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Hush, your prince hasn’t given you leave to speak.”

  The flare of challenge in her eyes has me slowly sinking a finger between her folds. She stops all effort at arguing. Now, she’s mine. Her moans and gasps with each thrust of my finger brings a grin to my lips. “Oh…what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m taking you to bed.”

  She rolls her hips, searching for more friction. “Promises, promises.”

  “Absolutely.” I add a second finger, her tight sheath fluttering around me. My thumb rubs tight circles around her swollen clit, and she bucks and cries my name. “I want you to come for me now.”

  Her answer is a pained cry.

  “Did you hear me? Come for your prince.”

  She does. It’s hard and explosive and the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. “I…wow.”

  I chuckle and slip my fingers out of her heat. “I haven’t even tasted you yet.” Then I scoop her into my arms. “I think we should remedy that right now.”

  I carry her to the stairs, the scent of her arousal driving me mad with lust. As soon as we get to the second floor I head down the hall to her room. Her fingers play in my hair, soft lips trailing kisses along my throat.

  Kicking open the door, I have to fight the urge to press her up against the wall and free my aching length right here and now. But she’s innocent, she needs coaxing and preparation before I can take her.