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“Can I help you?” She looked uncomfortable. This was fine; soon she’d realize her rightful place in my bed and home. The idea of tugging loose her ponytail and removing that ridiculous apron and dress was more than appealing.
“Yes, actually I was looking for you,” I explained.
“For me?” She turned a little stiff as I approached her.
I nodded and kept a slow pace. “You’re Isabella, is that right?”
“I go by Izzy,” she corrected. Itwasher. I’d have to thank that seer a thousand times for leading me to her. Izzy wasn’t as dignified a name as Isabella, but I could easily persuade her into using her full name.
Queen Isabella of Crystal Glass.
Our children would be princes and princesses.
I just had to breed her.
“Izzy,” I savored the name as I said it. “My name is Rhuron Everglast.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” She looked concerned.
She would help me with so much, she just didn’t know yet. It felt precious how close she was to knowing everything. I was disappointed she didn’t say my name back to me. I would have enjoyed hearing it in her voice. There was time for that, though — I’d have her moaning my name in no time.
Heat flared in my chest at the thought, and I swallowed it down.
“I want to know everything about you,” I explained as I reached the counter. “Your past, your present, why you work here when you can more than likely own a shop of your own. What makes you tick.” She was quiet, so I continued on. “I want to unwrap you like a gift,” I leaned against the counter towards her. “Fill you with the promise of future generations of my people.”
Her face was bright red and damned cute. I wanted to just kiss her and have her, mate her there on the counter.
Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. Then it opened again.
“I need you to leave,” she said quickly.
“Well, come with me,” I smiled.
“I won’t,” she shook her head. “Leave or I’m calling the police.”
She picked up her cellphone like a threat, and I sighed.
“I’m the oldest prince of a neighboring nation.” I tried to explain.
“Canada?” She looked like she didn’t really want her question answered.
“Crystal Glass.”
“That sounds like an 80’s band, now get out.” She lifted the phone and started to dial.
“Please, stop — we got off on the wrong foot,” I countered. “You’re my fated mate. I’m making a fool out of myself, but I’m not walking away from this.”
“Hello, yes, I’m an employee at the Kiss My Tulips flower shop. A man is harassing me and refusing to leave the store,” she blurted into the phone.
“Wait, please,” I asked again. She started backing away from the counter.
Fine.
I couldn’t do anything right yet. There were too many people out and about, if I shifted, it would bring attention to my kingdom. That wasn’t allowed to happen.
“I’m leaving,” I said simply.
Walking out of the store in long strides, I climbed back into the back of the car.
