Page 24 of Princessa
Surprised?
Well, like I mentioned before, I wasn’t the Prince Casanova some made me out to be. Deep down, this prince lived life as one romantic fucker.
Everything about dinner with Arabella had to be perfect and, lucky for me, the stars were all aligned—literally.
“Do you think that’s Venus or Mars?” Arabella sat up on the blanket, eyes squinting as she pointed to the brightest star in the sky.
Earlier when we ended our call, I reached out to Finn, who of course was with Camille, and asked if the resort’s smaller private beach could be closed off to guests. Since there were no events planned, Finn got Camille to contact the head of resort security and do just that.
Apparently, it paid to be a prince with connections.
From the café, I ordered gourmet sandwiches and sides, a bottle of wine, and asked them to pack it all up in one of their signature picnic-to-go baskets then deliver it to my suite.
I changed my clothes, fixed my hair, and with only a few minutes to spare, raced to the beach, picked a spot I deemed suitable, set up a blanket and the picnic basket, then met Arabella in the hotel lobby as planned.
Of course she looked as stunning as ever, proving she was a walking fashion statement even in yoga pants, sandals, and a sweatshirt. The sight of her would have stolen my breath, if I wasn’t already breathless from all that crazy running around.
“Looks a lot like Mars to me. It’s usually the brightest. Would you care for more salad? More wine?”
Arabella shook her head. “No thanks. And I can’t believe you planned this amazing beach picnic dinner under the stars. It reminds me of a scene from…” She paused for at least five seconds, head cocked to the side. “Prince Grayson, you’re a liar!” Glaring, she jabbed one manicured finger straight at my flexed pec. “YouhavewatchedSíntomas De Amor,”she gushed, “and don’t you dare try and deny it.”
Damn, she sure was cute when feisty. It took all I had in me not to lean in and claim her delicious mouth with mine. But friends don’t do shit like that. Nope, they sit around and play the stupid game ofI’m not at all attracted to youwhich I’m pretty sure I’ll lose any day now. Whoever said men and women can’t be friends should be cast in the hall of know-it all fame.
“Fine,” I admitted with a laugh. “You caught me. Yet, I figured since you were all into that show, you’d recognize the romantic gesture.” I reached over, tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “Me and my dad actually watched every week with my mom, and while I didn’t really embrace the dramatic antics, I did embrace the time with my parents. It became our once-a-week family thing. Something that’s rare when running a country. Popcorn. Candy. You name it. We sat in the family room, eyes glued to the television. And that epic scene on the beach is one I’ve been dying to recreate…with the right person.”
Maybe it was the wine we’d sipped or the fact sitting on the beach at night under the stars had its magical effect.
Whatever the case, I never expected Arabella to utter, “Kiss me.”
