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At least not with any of them.
And she was tired of pretending. She just wanted to be herself and to hell with anyone who didn’t like it. And before long, she’d go back to being plain Jill Davidson, instead of Princess Isabella Jane Strovanik.
She should suck it up and quit sulking. It was unlikely she’d have to go on the “honeymoon”, anyway.
She’d pick Jeff, he’d choose the money, and that would be the end of her royal stint.
The end of her time with Rob.
But, oh, what an ending it had been.
Her stomach flip-flopped at the memory of what they’d shared early this morning.
Hot, sweaty, glorious love-making.
And Rob had made love to her.
She dropped her fork onto the white lacy tablecloth. It’s tines clanged against a fragile appearing saucer, the noise reverberating around the silent room.
“Excuse me,” she murmured in her princess voice and picked up the utensil to take another bite of perfectly prepared sex, er, eggs.
Oh, man. She had to get her mind off Rob, before she made a complete fool of herself in front of the ever-present cameramen.
But the more she tried, the more memories flooded her.
Rob had been wild and wonde
rful, and she’d felt the desperation in his lovemaking. Feral. Hungry. Out of control. Yet, tender, giving, almost worshipful in his touches, his kisses.
In the two hours he’d been in her bed, he’d loved her thoroughly. Over and over.
Had he been memorizing every touch, every scent, every taste, as she had?
They’d both known they were saying goodbye.
Even if she hadn’t been able to tell him how he affected her, at least she’d had the opportunity to show him. No words had passed between them. Only the guttural sounds of shared ecstasy.
Words hadn’t been needed.
He’d devoured her, and she’d been his willing captive.
Of course, in round two--or had it been three?--she’d devoured him right back. A smile played on her lips. If his powerful climax had been anything to judge by, he’d been a happy camper as well.
In some ways she was glad he’d insisted upon no words and not just because of the camera.
What could be said at this point?
They were two very different people stealing a few passion-filled moments in time, a fantasy affair in a fantasy castle, nothing more. For sanity’s sake, she’d leave it at that and not ponder that had they talked this morning, she might have whispered words of love.
Which would have been totally dim-witted.
Thank goodness they hadn’t been talking because she did not love Rob Lancaster.
She swallowed the tasteless lump of egg in her mouth.
She didn’t love Rob. She couldn’t.
What she needed was to finish this day, go home, and be thankful no one had figured out she wasn’t the woman who’d signed up to play this part.
