Read Online His Princess in the Making by Melissa James - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Melissa James
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Fiction - Romance, American Light Romantic Fiction, princesses, Romance - Contemporary, Fire Fighters, Romance: Modern
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“Tell me and it’s done. I’m at your service, Your Highness, as I’ve always been.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, weak and craving. “I have enough people putting me at a distance without you doing it too.”
He grinned down at her, a brow lifted. “Pardon me, Giulia. I thought you wanted to put me at a distance.”
“Yes—no—oh, just stop, ” she whispered, anguished. “We’re in public, and there are a hundred eyes on me. I’m too new at this. I have to be seen to be doing everything right. It’s been frightening and lonely and—and, oh, hard enough here. I wanted you here with me, but you’ve changed.” Hot colour flooded her face, and she didn’t know how to go on.
“How have I changed?” he whispered back, his face so close the chocolate, minted breath caressed her skin, her lips.
She closed her eyes, barely noticing her hands had clenched, holding hard to his hand and shoulder. “You’re—you keep acting as if—”
“As if…?” His hand at her back drew her to him, until the current of his warmth filled all the chilled, lonely places of the past few months, of feeling so alone.
“Why are you doing this?” She was weary of trying to work him out. “I don’t understand. You never wanted me. I accepted that. I got over you. We’re—friends.”
“If you’re alluding to that miserable New Year’s Eve almost eleven years ago, I’ve spent more than ten years paying penance for it.” His thumb slipped between their linked hands, caressing her palm, until the thrumming heat in her became pounding desire. “Ten years yearning to turn the clock back and change my response when you kissed me, tounsay what hurt you so badly you couldn’t look me in the face for weeks. Wishing I hadn’t been so damned scared that the only family I had left, the only family I wanted, would kick me out if I touched you. I made you pay the price for my fear.”
Strangely, the first time they discussed the thing that had happened eleven years before—the kiss—didn’t break the mood, but escalated it. She saw the girl she’d been, who’d spent the whole night in a corner gathering up the courage to go to him at midnight and kiss not his cheek but his lips…and when she had, he’d kissed her back for ten beautiful seconds. “But—but you laughed at me, asked me if I was drunk, and then walked off and kissed that girl.”
“All that that piece of male denial accomplished was to awaken me to the truth,” he muttered roughly. “I closed my eyes and saw your face. I touched her and felt you. When she talked to me I heard you whispering ‘kiss me for New Year’s,’ turning your face as I went to kiss your cheek, and all I wanted was to kiss you again. Then the words I’d said replayed over in my head, and I wished to God I could unsay them. When I came home and you avoided me for days, I knew how much I’d hurt you, and hated myself for it. I was given a trust, to look out for you that night, and I couldn’t break it. But you’ll never know how much I wanted to.”
She shook her head, aching, wishing. “Why are you telling me now? It’s years too late for this conversation. I want my friend back.”
“Is it? Do you?” The words were so soft she barely heard, so close they touched her soul. So like the Toby she’d always had with her; the boy who’d saved her life and the man who’d devoted a decade to their friendship. So like the man who’d lived and danced, cooked and worked beside her for so many years. So like…and so unlike. “Do you want my friendship, Giulia? Only that?”
Confusion; lovely, awful confusion. What did she want? “I…” She couldn’t go on. And she couldn’t help it: despite her elegant hairdo and the tiara, her head fell to his shoulder and snuggled into his neck as she’d always done. Not quite friend, definitely not little sister. It was the closest she’d come in eleven years to saying three words to her best friend.
I want
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, weak and craving. “I have enough people putting me at a distance without you doing it too.”
He grinned down at her, a brow lifted. “Pardon me, Giulia. I thought you wanted to put me at a distance.”
“Yes—no—oh, just stop, ” she whispered, anguished. “We’re in public, and there are a hundred eyes on me. I’m too new at this. I have to be seen to be doing everything right. It’s been frightening and lonely and—and, oh, hard enough here. I wanted you here with me, but you’ve changed.” Hot colour flooded her face, and she didn’t know how to go on.
“How have I changed?” he whispered back, his face so close the chocolate, minted breath caressed her skin, her lips.
She closed her eyes, barely noticing her hands had clenched, holding hard to his hand and shoulder. “You’re—you keep acting as if—”
“As if…?” His hand at her back drew her to him, until the current of his warmth filled all the chilled, lonely places of the past few months, of feeling so alone.
“Why are you doing this?” She was weary of trying to work him out. “I don’t understand. You never wanted me. I accepted that. I got over you. We’re—friends.”
“If you’re alluding to that miserable New Year’s Eve almost eleven years ago, I’ve spent more than ten years paying penance for it.” His thumb slipped between their linked hands, caressing her palm, until the thrumming heat in her became pounding desire. “Ten years yearning to turn the clock back and change my response when you kissed me, tounsay what hurt you so badly you couldn’t look me in the face for weeks. Wishing I hadn’t been so damned scared that the only family I had left, the only family I wanted, would kick me out if I touched you. I made you pay the price for my fear.”
Strangely, the first time they discussed the thing that had happened eleven years before—the kiss—didn’t break the mood, but escalated it. She saw the girl she’d been, who’d spent the whole night in a corner gathering up the courage to go to him at midnight and kiss not his cheek but his lips…and when she had, he’d kissed her back for ten beautiful seconds. “But—but you laughed at me, asked me if I was drunk, and then walked off and kissed that girl.”
“All that that piece of male denial accomplished was to awaken me to the truth,” he muttered roughly. “I closed my eyes and saw your face. I touched her and felt you. When she talked to me I heard you whispering ‘kiss me for New Year’s,’ turning your face as I went to kiss your cheek, and all I wanted was to kiss you again. Then the words I’d said replayed over in my head, and I wished to God I could unsay them. When I came home and you avoided me for days, I knew how much I’d hurt you, and hated myself for it. I was given a trust, to look out for you that night, and I couldn’t break it. But you’ll never know how much I wanted to.”
She shook her head, aching, wishing. “Why are you telling me now? It’s years too late for this conversation. I want my friend back.”
“Is it? Do you?” The words were so soft she barely heard, so close they touched her soul. So like the Toby she’d always had with her; the boy who’d saved her life and the man who’d devoted a decade to their friendship. So like the man who’d lived and danced, cooked and worked beside her for so many years. So like…and so unlike. “Do you want my friendship, Giulia? Only that?”
Confusion; lovely, awful confusion. What did she want? “I…” She couldn’t go on. And she couldn’t help it: despite her elegant hairdo and the tiara, her head fell to his shoulder and snuggled into his neck as she’d always done. Not quite friend, definitely not little sister. It was the closest she’d come in eleven years to saying three words to her best friend.
I want
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