“Oh, Dami. He thinks I’m a
child,
you know? And I’m not a child— Well, yes, okay, I
am
inexperienced, not to mention naive. I get that. But I’m not stupid. I’ve simply been sick for most of my life and kind of out of the mainstream of things. But not anymore. I’m well and I’m strong and I’m living my dream. And I really, really need to get started on doing the things that normal, healthy women do—now that, at last, I
am
a normal, healthy woman. Dami, I need to, you know, hook up.”
He tried not to look as befuddled as he felt. “Hook up.”
“You know...have sex?”
“Er, yes. Of course I know.”
“But see, I feel so awkward and strange about it.” She lifted both hands and pressed them to the sides of her head, as though trying to keep what was inside from escaping. “I mean, I’ve met a few guys in Manhattan this past month and a half.” She let go of her head and waved her slim arms about in her excitement over something of which he still had no clue. “I’ve met a few guys and I’ve tried to picture myself with one of them, but the idea of doing it with any of them just doesn’t feel right—except for with Brandon. I find Brandon extremely attractive and I definitely could get something going with him. But he’s very much about his acting and he’s big on life experience and he won’t hook up with me because he doesn’t have sex with boring, innocent women.”
Damien’s head was truly spinning. “You...asked this Brandon fellow to...?”
“Oh, no!” More blushing. “Not straight out, I mean. I don’t know him well enough to ask him straight out.”
“Oh, of course. I see.” He didn’t, actually. Not in the least.
“But I did try to kiss him....”
“And?”
“He caught my arms and kind of held me, really gently, away from him.”
“You mean you didn’t kiss him after all?”
“No. He stopped it before it happened. And he looked in my eyes and told me that it could never work, that I’m so young and inexperienced and I wear my emotions on my sleeve. He said he would never want to hurt me, but of course he
would
hurt me because I would be in over my head with him. He said he doesn’t, you know, sleep with virgins and that he’s got no time for anything serious right now anyway, because acting is his life.”
What a fatheaded ass. “You are adorable, Luce, and thoroughly charming. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
She put one of those flying hands to her heart. “Oh, Dami. See? That’s how you are. Not only have you treated me like someone who matters from the first time I met you. Not only did you come to my rescue and fly me to Manhattan when I’d almost given up on ever getting there. Somehow you just instantly, always, say the exact thing that I need to hear.”
He made another stab at finding out where all this was going. “So you came to me for advice, then?” He reached for his coffee cup.
And Lucy said, “No. Not advice. Sex.”
He set the cup down sharply. “Say again?”
“Dami, it’s so simple. I want you to have sex with me. I want you to be my first.”
Chapter Two
D
amien found himself experiencing the strangest sensation of complete unreality. “Dearest Luce. Did you just ask me to be your lover?”
She nodded, her shining brown head bouncing up and down as though on a spring. “Oh, yes. Please. I
like
you, Dami. I truly do. And when I think of having sex with you, it doesn’t seem like it would be too awful—and you
are
so experienced. I really do need someone who can help me be more sophisticated and you just happen to be about the most sophisticated person I know. And as for having sex with you, well, you seem like you would know what you were doing and I...” The words ran out.
He started to speak but fell silent when she moaned.
And then she let out a cry and put her hands to her cheeks as though in an effort to cool her fierce blush. “Oh, God. You should see your face. This is not going well, is it?”
“Luce, I—”
Before he could say more, she shoved back her chair and leaped to her feet. “Seriously. I don’t know what I was thinking. This is a bad idea. A really stupid, utterly inane idea. And now you’re going to think I’m such a complete child, a total dork...”
He got up. “No, I do not think you’re a child. Truly, it’s all right. It’s...”
But she didn’t stay to hear the rest. She whirled and bolted for the door.
“Luce!” Dami went after her and managed to catch up with her halfway down the hall to his private foyer. He grabbed her hand. “Wait.”
She moaned again and tried to pull away. “Let me go.”
He held on. “Please. Don’t become so worked up. I promise you, you’re neither a child nor a dork. And I’m quite flattered.”
There was yet another moan. “Oh, no, you’re not.”
He lifted the hand he’d captured and kissed it lightly. Then he wrapped his other hand around their joined ones. “Listen to me.”
A little whine escaped her.
“Tell me you’re listening,” he coaxed.
“What?” She sagged against the hallway wall, between two handsome nature prints he’d bought at one of his sister Rhia’s charity art auctions. “All right. Yes, I’m listening.”
“I
am
flattered.” He tried a hint of a smile and watched her soft lips quiver in reluctant response. “Really, Luce, you are so unpredictable. You know, I find I never know what you might do or say next. But at the same time, at heart you are so wonderfully direct, so honest.”
“Direct and honest,” she grumbled, but at least she’d stopped trying to make him let go of her hand. “Ugh. So I’m a good person, but I’m not especially exciting—that’s what you’re saying.”
“No, that is not what I’m saying.”
“Yes, it is.”
He moved in a fraction closer, keeping their joined hands between them, connecting them. The scent of soap and cherries was a little stronger now, sweet and tart and so very...clean. “Don’t forget. I said you are unpredictable, too. That makes you exciting.”
“No....”
“Yes. It does, I promise you. And may I add that you are also like a breath of fresh air, both bracing and sweet.” He watched her flushed face and thought how very much he liked her, how he’d liked her from the first time he met her, at her brother’s Carpinteria estate when she’d dragged him to her sewing room and showed him several of her creations, after which she’d plunked her portfolio down on the cutting table and started flipping through the pages, chattering nonstop about her ambitions as a fashion designer.
Now she gazed at him through big eyes full of hope and trust. “Oh, you do know how to dish out the compliments.”
“It’s easy when I’m only telling the absolute truth.”
“Oh, right. Sure you are.”
He turned his mouth down at the corners in a mimic of sadness. “Luce. You wound me.”
She started to giggle—and then she blinked. “Wait a minute.”
“Yes?”
“Are you telling me that, um, you
will?
”
Ouch. Leave it to Lucy to cut right to the heart of the matter.
The thing was, he wanted to tell her yes, that he would be her lover. He truly did. But he was no more a seducer of virgins than Brandon of the butterscotch eyes. He absolutely did find her attractive, but in the way one finds a child attractive, because she was pure and honest, innocent and sweet yet also funny and surprising and perceptive, too. Not to mention splendidly talented. However, he couldn’t quite make himself think of her as a grown woman, as an eligible female he might take to his bed.
She was watching him suspiciously. “Long silence. I’m taking that for a no.”
Above all, he did not want to hurt her. “You truly are lovely, Luce. Your shining seal-brown hair, those enormous eyes that tip up so playfully at the corners. That one dimple in your left cheek that’s deeper than the one on the right when you smile....”
“You’re an absolute genius at making me feel good-looking.”
“Because you
are
good-looking.”
“But you still haven’t answered my question,” she accused. “I’m thinking that’s not a good sign.”
The solution came to him. “Tell you what.”
For that he got an eye roll. “Stalling. That’s what you’re doing, right?”
“Well, yes. I suppose that I am.”
“Oh, I knew it.” She wrinkled her cute nose at him. But at least she no longer seemed on the verge of shedding more tears.
He qualified, “However, I am stalling in a good way.”
“Ha.” She made another attempt to free her hand from his hold.
He didn’t let go. “Listen. Please.”
“Fine, fine.” She tipped her head from side to side, her words a singsong. “Go ahead.”
“We’ll take things a bit slower.”
That brought a frown to crease her smooth brow. “Slower than what?”
“You’re here for the holiday weekend.”
“I am, yes.”
“We’ll spend the time—or much of it, anyway—in each other’s company.”
“You mean like we’re dating?”
“Yes. As though we were dating.”
“Oh, Dami. I may be naive, but I’m so on to you. I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to let me down easy.”
She had it right, but he had no intention of admitting that. “Come to the kitchen.” He tugged on her hand again. “We can finish our coffee....” He expected her to require more coaxing and encouragements before she’d agree to sit at the table again and discuss the situation frankly.
But as she so often did, she surprised him. She said, “Yes. All right.” And she followed him back the way they had come.
* * *
In the kitchen, Lucy reclaimed her seat at the table and Dami refreshed their coffee cups before settling opposite her again.
Lucy watched him. He really was so nice to look at, in his sexy black robe and all, with that slice of sculpted chest on view, with his thick dark hair and his eyes that sometimes seemed the darkest brown and then, in certain lights, a green so deep it was almost black. So different from Brandon, who was clean-cut and outdoorsy with a handsome, open sort of face. Dami exuded power and ease, a hint of danger and strangely, humor and tenderness, too. They called him the Player Prince. Everyone said he’d been with more women than her big brother, Noah. Which was seriously saying something.
Noah used to be quite the lady-killer. But in the past year or so, he’d changed. He’d stopped seeing women at all for a while. And then he’d found Dami’s sister Alice. Lucy did adore Alice. Alice was perfect for Noah. Lucy felt real satisfaction knowing that she could strike out on her own and her big brother had someone to love him the way he’d never let himself be loved before. Someone to keep him honest and stand up to him when he got too full of himself.
“Luce.” Dami was frowning at her. “What
are
you thinking?”
She sipped her coffee. “That my brother’s happy with your sister, and I’m really glad about that.” Well, she
had
been thinking about Noah and Alice—
after
she’d admired the man across from her in his sexy robe.
“They
are
good together,” he agreed.
She laughed, feeling lighthearted suddenly. Okay, she got the message that Dami wasn’t up for teaching her the ways of love and sex. But at least he hadn’t acted as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her, the way Brandon had when she’d tried to put a move on him. Dami would still be her friend always—somehow she just knew that—no matter what gauche, immature thing she did or said.
“What is so humorous?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I was really scared to ask you. And now I’ve done it, and...it’s okay. The sky didn’t fall. You didn’t toss me out the door on my butt.”
“I would never toss you out the door—on your butt or otherwise.”
“Exactly. I love that about you.”
He ate a little more of his pastry and then he said thoughtfully, “I do realize I have something of a reputation with women. But even someone like me doesn’t instantly fall into bed with any female who wanders by, no matter how fetching and well dressed she might be.” A wry smile twisted his mouth. “Or at least, I haven’t for the past few years.”
This was getting interesting. “You’re saying you had a lot of indiscriminate sex when you were younger?”
“I suppose I did, yes.”
“You suppose? Oh, come on, Dami. You did or you didn’t.”
He chuckled. “I like you, Luce.”
She beamed. “It’s totally mutual.”
“And I think that spending time together over this long weekend is a way to find out if there could ever be more than friendship between us.”
Yeah, okay. She fully got that he was only being nice to her. And his suggestion of the two of them together for the weekend, just having fun, wasn’t what she’d come for.
But so what?
It would be wonderful to spend a whole weekend at his side. And maybe a little of his smoothness and elegance would rub off on her. That certainly couldn’t hurt. She might not get the whole sex-for-the-first-time thing over with, but at least she could acquire a little sophistication—if that was possible in a few short days.
She sipped her coffee and he sipped his. When she set her cup down, she said, “So, then. Sunday I’m flying back to New York. And you’re saying it will be you and me, together in a dating kind of way, today, tomorrow and Saturday.”
He inclined his dark head. “Starting this morning with the Prince Consort’s Thanksgiving Bazaar on the rue St.-Georges.”
* * *
Dami leaned close to her. “Ignore them,” he whispered. “Simply pretend they’re not there.”
They stood side by side on the cobbled street, in front of a booth that sold handmade Christmas ornaments. By then it was nearing eleven in the morning. Lucy couldn’t resist a quick glance over her shoulder.
The street was packed with milling holiday shoppers and the air smelled of savory meats, fried potatoes and baked goods from the numerous food booths and carts that jostled for space with the stalls offering jewelry and handmade soaps, pottery and paintings and all kinds of bright, beautiful textiles. People chatted and laughed, bargained and shouted. And there were children everywhere, some in strollers or baby carriers, some clutching the hands of their mothers or fathers. And some running free, zipping in and out among the shoppers, cause for fond amusement and the occasional cry of, “Watch out, now,” or, “Slow down a tad, young man.”
Even in the holiday crowd, though, it was easy to pick out the photographers lurking nearby. Each had a camera in front of his face, the wide lens trained on the Player Prince.
Dami elbowed her lightly in the side. “I said ignore them.”
“But they’re everywhere.”
“Yes, my darling. But they know the rules within the principality. Here they are careful to keep their distance. Believe me, it’s much better than in France or England or America, where they come at you without mercy, up close and very personal, firing questions as they click away.” His voice was low and teasing and almost flirtatious. Or maybe she was just reading into it after their discussion of earlier that morning. Most likely, Dami wasn’t flirting at all but only being kind to her.
And she was going to completely take advantage of his kindness and love every minute of it. “What happens if they approach you?”
“Someone from the palace guard or my brother Alex’s Covert Command Unit will appear from the milling throng and escort them directly to the border.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes,” he assured her. “Just like that.”
Dami had three brothers and five sisters. Lucy had yet to meet them all. “Alex is your twin, right?”
“Yes, he is. We’re identical, though no one ever has any trouble telling us apart. Alex has always been the serious one. And you know me.” He gave a supremely elegant shrug. “I make it my mission in life to take
nothing
seriously.”
“What is a Covert Command Unit?”
“A small, specially chosen and trained corps of Montedoran soldiers who are always at the ready to take action in a critical situation.” He said this in his usual lighthearted tone.
“Seriously?”
He nodded at a passing couple and they nodded back. And then he told her, “All the family’s bodyguards are from the CCU. And my sister Rhia’s husband, Marcus, is one of them—and, Luce,” he said indulgently, “will you please forget about the men with the cameras? To keep slipping them sideways glances only encourages them.”
She laughed and caught his arm and grinned up at him. “I can’t help it. Dami, you know how I am. Homeschooled. Most of my life, I hardly ever left the house—except when I had to be rushed to the hospital. I have a lot of life to catch up on. Everything fascinates me, even pushy men with cameras.”
The merchant in the booth, a large woman with a wide, lined face, held up a pair of snowflake earrings, delicate and silvery, accented with tiny rhinestones that caught the late-November sunlight and twinkled festively. “Highness. For the lady...?”
Dami nodded. “Very pretty. Yes, she’ll have them.” He handed over the money without even a glance at Lucy for approval.
Lucy almost protested, but the woman in the booth looked so pleased and the earrings were pretty and not that expensive. Also, it did seem good practice for becoming sophisticated to pretend to be the sort of woman who casually received trinkets from a handsome prince.