Page 17 of Striking
Caitlin
Yes, I do know that.
Bellamy
I’ll call you tomorrow.
BELLAMY
I like to think I’m a passenger princess, but I’d probably have to stay awake for that.
—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts
You’d think the stress of everything would have made it impossible for me to get any sleep on the flight from the villa to Mornea, but sleeping is only ever an issue for me when I’m alone. And I definitely wasn’t alone today.
As the jet comes to a rough stop, I realize exactly how un-alone I am. My feet are tucked under my legs on the cream leather sofa, and my face is pressed against a super soft t-shirt that’s stretched across an incredibly comfortable, firm chest. And the delicious weight of Rhys’s arm is wrapped around me, holding me tightly.
He feels too good and smells even better.
Damn it.
I had no intention of falling asleep on Rhys Windsor, but this man has some kind of freakish magnetic pull I can’t seem to avoid and haven’t even begun to understand,yet.
Ugh . . .
Please, sweet baby Jesus, don’t let me have drooled on him.
“Ahh... Sleeping Beauty wakes,” Rhys croons as I force my eyes open, and hallelujah, there’s no drool on his shirt. “We just landed, love.”
“Sorry,” I murmur as I push off him. His warm vanilla sandalwood scent wraps around me like a weighted blanket.Damn. A girl could get used to this. “I guess last night caught up with me.”
“Don’t be.” He runs his palm over my hair, and I swear I could purr like a kitten in heat. It’s heavenly. “Having a beautiful woman asleep in my arms isn’t a hardship.”
“I doubt you’d be hard up to find any woman who wouldn’t want to swap spots with me,Your Highness.” I’m not sure why I taunt him. But I do it anyway.
Sarcasm might be my love language, but it’s also my self-defense mechanism.
His midnight blue eyes darken as the cabin lights come on. Rhys cups my face and leans in until we’re close enough for me to see a tiny scar next to his eyebrow I hadn’t noticed until now. Why do I have the sudden urge to press my lips there?
“Ask me how many women I’ve taken to my home, Bellamy.”
Why do those words make a swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach?
“How many?” I squeak.
Yup. . . squeak. Way to play it cool.
Good thing I never said I was good at sexy.
Rhys’s breath fans my face as his grin grows. “I’ve never brought a woman to Lilihill House. Atticus and I don’t bring people who aren’t in our inner circle into our home. Ever. Andwe certainly don’t invite people to stay with us. You will be the first.”
“Oh.” I have no other words.None. Because I’m utterly lost in this man. In his words. In his scent. In the stubble dotting his jaw. The stubble I drag my nails over, unable to stop myself. And the groan that pulls from his chest iseverything, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“So yes, I have no doubt there are women who’d like to trade places with you. But I don’t want any of them. I didn’t invite them into my home. Just you.”
I’m not sure who moves first, but our lips are a hairsbreadth apart when a throat clears behind us.Again.
“Excuse me, Your Royal Highness.”
