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Do I dare tell him I’m catching feelings for him?
Why not? I literally have nothing to lose.
“Couldn’t you have gone to New York, Boston, or Los Angeles to find an American wife?”
“Why would I go to those places?”
I shrug. “More women to choose from. Probably a lot more sophisticated women. Educated women. Women who would know what to do with a man like you.”
He pulls back to get a better look at me. “What to do ‘with a man like me’?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Trust me, I’m not that complicated.”
“Okay, Prince.”
“Do you not enjoy dancing with me, Hailey?”
He has no idea. “I do…I’m enjoying your company way too much. And I’m starting to worry that my feelings are involved when I know I don’t stand a chance. Am I a tour guide? A friend? Something else? Everything feels so muddled.”
I nervously lick my lips.
Torben’s blue-green gaze falls to my mouth, and my heart skips. “Allow me to muddle everything even more, then,” he says.
And what does that mean?
The prince touches his lips to mine.
Oh. That’s what he means.
Oh my gosh.
Oh my lands.
This single, cautious, soft kiss will be forever seared into my memory. It’s barely a brush of lips, but my heart soars on a cloud of unicorns, glitter, and freaking rainbows.
My cheeks, chest, and ears burn. I must look like a splotchy mess when the prince pulls back from that first kiss to check my reaction.
But I don’t care because he’s not looking at my splotches. He’s seeing me.
And then, the prince kisses me again, with none of the caution from before.
The hand that was holding mine to dance a second ago now cups the back of my head, angling my face to deepen the kiss.
I gotta remember to breathe before I pass out.
One gasp from me at the subtle sweep of his tongue is all it takes for him to break the kiss. “Was that alright? Did I shock you?”
I have no words. I am made of impulses. All I have left is the urge to reach out, fist the front of his silly Salt Life shirt, and pull him back down to me. Instead, I roll up on my toes to meet his lips halfway.
In the small moment before our lips meet again, the intensity in his eyes has me trembling. My mouth begs for that passion I see teeming behind his deep-set eyes.
When Torben captures my bottom lip between his, we’ve officially moved from a dry kiss to a wet kiss.
Are we about to French kiss in public? Oh my gosh, I’ve never French kissed in public. Do I care?
My libido shouts, “hell no, we don’t care.”
