Jill Shalvis - A Prince Of A Guy

“No.”

“You have my things.”

Well, hell. “Fine.” Purposefully distancing himself, he stood back to let her go first. He didn’t touch the small of her back as they walked out of the café he’d never forget. He didn’t so much as smile when she looked at him over her shoulder. He did hold open the car door, but he did it politely, and he didn’t kiss her as she got into the car, though she was close enough, and just an hour ago he would have.

She tried to stop him, put a hand on his arm. He quivered at her touch and shrugged her off.

“Sean-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Carly. Or should I say Princess?” Disgusted with both of them, he shoved the door closed.

They drove home in utter silence. His life would never be the same, and the pathetic thing was, he had no one to blame but himself.

MRS. TRYKOWSKI greeted them with a smile that faded as soon as she saw Sean’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, ignoring her question. He pulled some money out of his pocket, but the older woman shook her head, refusing to take it.

“I don’t want money for watching your darling niece.” Slowly, she divided a glance between Sean and Carlyne, who wanted to die of mortification because she knew exactly how she looked.

Like a circus performer.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Trykowski said with a sigh. “The jig is up, huh, dear?”

Carlyne gaped at her. “You knew?”

“I have eyes in my head, don’t I?” Turning to Sean, she lifted a finger and wagged it in his face. “And if you search your heart, you’ll realize it doesn’t matter, Seany, my boy. She’s still a ten, and she’s still the one for you. So don’t you go doing something stupid now.”

“Wait. She’s the one who lied, and you’re getting mad at me? ”

“You’re the male, aren’t you?” With a secret smile aimed at Carlyne, she left.

Leaving Carlyne alone with Sean. She was so cold. Cold and sad. Oh, and destroyed, let’s not forget that, because in one foolish move she’d blown her chance for anything and everything she’d ever wanted.

She started to shake, though whether it was the chill, her wet clothes or grief, she hadn’t a clue.

Sean took one look at her, one really long look from head to toe. It was a look that might have made her melt with longing only a couple of hours ago, except all that heat she’d come to know had turned to quiet fury.

“Go change,” he said roughly, then turned away.

Her clothes weighed a ton, but she hadn’t explained, they hadn’t talked. Without knowing how to make this right, she followed him.

He went into Melissa’s bedroom. Kneeling by the bed, he reached out and smoothed the little girl’s covers, then gently touched her cheek.

Carlyne couldn’t see his expression, but there was tenderness pouring from him. Tenderness and tension.

Tension she’d given him.

Standing, he brushed past her and moved out of the room.

She caught up with him in the hallway. “Sean.”

Shocking her, he stopped, and she wondered how to begin. “We need to talk about it.”

Jaw tight, face grim, he sighed. “You’re shaking, dammit.”

“Because I’m afraid.”

A frown curved his mouth downward. “Not of me. I would never hurt you.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Don’t.” His eyes closed, and she briefly glimpsed a world of pain behind his controlled temper. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But she needed to. Needed to tell him how she’d meant to come clean sooner but hadn’t known how, needed to tell him how much she cared about him. “I-” A terrible bone-shaking tremor struck her, and she had to clamp her mouth shut, wrapping her arms around herself.

Sean turned away. “Go to bed, Carly. Princess, ” he corrected immediately. “You can wait until morning to leave.”

But she couldn’t move.

“Go on,” he said harshly, and when she looked at him, he swore the hallway blue. He stalked toward her and swung her into his arms. Without a word, he strode into his bedroom, his arms taut and quivering with tension.

Or maybe it was her quivering.

Both miserable and in heaven, she laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted-”

“Save it.” He practically dropped her to the bathroom floor in his rush to get his hands off her. “You’re frozen solid.” He flicked on the hot water. “Get in the shower and warm the hell up.”

She stared at the steaming shower, everything blurring because of the tears she refused to shed. She’d brought this on herself. There was no one else to blame.

Somehow she’d broken all her rules. She’d fallen in love with Melissa. She’d fallen in love with Sean, a man who represented every part of every fairy tale she’d ever told herself. He was strong and independent with a sense of humor and a mind of his own. A man who might have even loved her back-as Carly.

How ironic was that? She’d finally found herself locked in Carly’s persona, and now that woman was gone, as well. Now she was a woman halfway between. A woman who would be happy to spend the rest of her life this way, with a small, intimate family who loved her. Her.

“Get in the shower, Princess.”

“Carly,” she whispered.

“Carlyne.”

“I want to be Carly.” She tried to unzip her sweater, but her fingers were shaking so badly it took her a moment to get a good grip.

“Dammit.” Apparently unwilling to wait, Sean shoved her hands away and tugged the zipper down, parting the sweater, exposing her pale skin to his gaze for the first time. Ever. One more tug, and the water-soaked weight fell off her arms. As he already knew, her silky white bra had a front clasp. It was also wet, which left the material so sheer she might have been wearing nothing.

Jaw clenched, Sean opened that, too, and with a deep, ragged breath, peeled it away from her skin.

Her nipples were two hard, aching peaks. He closed his eyes but didn’t say anything. She thought she heard a soft moan escape his lips, but she couldn’t be sure. “Sean-”

“Don’t.”

Her skirt came off next and, kneeling on the floor, he went after her boots, leaving her in thick tights and panties.

The tights had to be peeled away one leg at a time. The feel of his fingers on her, the way his dark head bent to his task, the way he held his breath, all combined to string her so tight she thought she might snap. Her heart certainly hadn’t gotten the message that he would never again touch her the way he had on the beach, because it was racing in anticipation. Her every nerve had done the same, so that a simple stroke of his hand down her leg caused her to tremble all the more.

Finally, he slid his hands up her thighs and hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties.

She stared at him, not breathing.

He stared at her, his breathing rough and uneven.

As the air danced over her wet, chilled body, she really did get cold.

But his hot gaze warmed everywhere it landed, and it landed plenty. No matter what he wanted to feel, he still desired her. He couldn’t hide that.

He wasn’t immune! It gave her a surge of hope, because he couldn’t both hate her and want her, too, could he? No, she decided, he couldn’t. Maybe it would have to start from physical release, his forgiving her. She’d appeal to him on an emotional level after, when he was ready.

Slowly he skimmed the panties down her legs, and if she’d expected him to avert his gaze, he didn’t. He looked right at her, all over her, and along with her trembling came a need she’d never known before.