He loved kissing her—it was an entirely new sensation, and he had never been playful in his life, never.

Not once.

There was a double forbidden here.

‘I don’t want you accusing me of teasing.’

‘I know that.’

‘And we can’t do anything that might look...’

He knew that too.

‘Just kiss,’ Alex said. Maybe it tastes so sweet because it is forbidden, he thought, because there is nothing more they could do. Maybe it had simply been too long without a woman; he could not allow himself to entertain that it was solely for her, for more of her, that he lowered his head again.

And a kiss without contact was torture.

A delicious torture as their mouths met again.

Torture to not be able to roam his body, to not accept him, for she knew he was wild to press into her. To not be able to forget about cameras, Santina and the predicament they were in. Yet torture to forget these things, too, as mouths mingled.

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She could feel her breath quicken, her mouth open to take him, except he pulled back. She gave a reluctant moan and wanted to take it back, for she was not supposed to be enjoying it so, but then so, too, did he.

It was the most erotic of moments, a seemingly chaste kiss but with bodies that were flaming.

The helicopter buzzed louder, like the nerves between her legs, and they had to keep it tasteful, so he lifted his head and showered her face with small kisses. He smiled down at her, and even in his arms, she could not tell of her pleasure, and even in hers he could not admit to the same.

‘If you weren’t a prince...’ Allegra looked up at him, and then she stopped, because she would now be teasing. For tonight they would be alone again, and she could not succumb, could not give that part of herself and still come out of this sane.

‘I am one,’ he said, for he could never forget.

Except were he not a prince, his hand would be between her legs now, she would be writhing on the moss and his face would be over hers, his body too.

But at least he could kiss her.

Her breasts ached for his hands; her body begged for his weight. There was a purr in her mouth that must have dictated her want, for his breathing was ragged and so, too, was hers. But Alex was right, there were limits.

‘We should go back.’

She pulled her lips away, dared not admit to the heat in her body, or that if he kissed her further she would surely come.

‘Of course.’ He was back to being prince, though his thoughts were the same. ‘I think they would have got their shot by now.’

It did not sting to hear his cold words; they were actually welcome, for she needed a reality check.

It was a different drive back to the palace. He showed her the landmarks, the little blue flowers that dotted the hills. She showed him the flowers the girl had given her in the café.

‘They’re what a little girl gave me.’ She picked them up from the concourse, but they were fading fast. ‘They need water.’

‘They are everywhere,’ Alex said. ‘They are exclusive to Santina, they flower all year. Really, they are a common weed—we have trouble controlling them.’

‘I think they’re beautiful,’ Allegra said and Alex screwed up his nose.

It was a more relaxed couple that arrived back at the palace. It actually didn’t feel strange to walk through the palace holding hands.

She felt rumpled and a bit grubby, but she felt the most normal she had in ages, buoyed from fresh air and company, from his kiss, from their talk. It was impossible not to smile.

Until they were immediately summoned to the king’s study. He stood stern and visibly angry, but the queen gave a tentative smile. ‘Allegra.’ The queen was kind. ‘We have been so worried—anything could have happened.’

‘Nothing did.’

‘You might have been recognised.’

‘I was recognised.’ Allegra was trying not to be rude to the queen. ‘I walked into a café and do you know what the owner did? He shut the shop—he let all the people who were currently there stay, but he allowed no one else in, and the people were delightful. They were absolutely thrilled and they let me be. Apart from one little girl.’ She looked at their uncomprehending faces, and her mind spun in circles—could they not understand how nice and simple it had been, that a little girl had come and given her a bunch of flowers?




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