The Prince's Waitress Wife

And that wasn’t her. She knew it wasn’t. ‘You haven’t eaten your dessert, sir.’

He gave a slow, dangerous smile. ‘I think I’m looking at it.’

Oh God, he was actually flirting with her.

Holly’s legs started to shake because he was so, so attractive, and the way he was looking at her made her feel like a supermodel. Her shrivelled self-esteem bloomed like a parched flower given new life by a shower of rain. This stunningly attractive, handsome guy—this gorgeous, megawealthy prince who could have had any woman in the world—found her so attractive that he wanted to flirt with her.

‘Cas.’ A spoiled female voice came from behind them. ‘Come and sit down.’

But he didn’t turn.

The fact that he didn’t appear willing or able to drag his gaze from her raised Holly’s confidence another few notches. She felt her colour mount under his intense, speculative gaze, and suddenly there was a dangerous shift in the atmosphere. Trying to work out how she’d progressed from tears to tension in such a short space of time, Holly swallowed.

It was him, she thought helplessly.

He was just gorgeous.

And way out of her league.

Flirting was one thing, but he had guests hanging on his every word—glamorous women vying for his attention.

Suddenly remembering where she was and who he was, Holly gave him an embarrassed glance. ‘They’re waiting for you, sir.’

The smooth lift of one eyebrow suggested that he didn’t understand why that was a problem, and Holly gave a weak smile. He was the ruling prince. People stood in line. They waited for his whim and his pleasure.

But surely his pleasure was one of those super-groomed, elegant women glaring impatiently at his broad back?

Her cheeks burning, she cleared her throat. ‘They’ll be wondering what you’re doing.’

‘And that matters because…?’

Envious of his indifference, she laughed. ‘Well—because generally people care what other people think.’

‘Do they?’

She gave an awkward laugh. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you care what other people think?’

‘I’m a waitress,’ Holly said dryly. ‘I have to care. If I don’t care, I don’t get tips—and then I don’t eat.’

The prince lifted one broad shoulder in a careless shrug. ‘Fine. So let’s get rid of them. What they don’t see, they can’t judge.’ Supremely confident, he cast a single glance towards one of the well-built guys standing by the door and that silent command was apparently sufficient to ensure that he was given instant privacy.

His security team sprang into action, and within minutes the rest of his party was leaving the room, knowing looks from the men and sulky glances from the women.

Ridiculously impressed by this discreet display of authority, Holly wondered how it would feel to be so powerful that you could clear a room with nothing more than a look. And how must it feel to be so secure about yourself that you didn’t care what other people thought about your actions?

Only when the door of the President’s Suite closed behind them did she suddenly realise that she was now alone with the prince.

She gave a choked laugh of disbelief.

He’d just dismissed the most glamorous, gorgeous women she’d ever seen in favour of—her?

The Prince turned back to her, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous. ‘So.’ His voice was soft. ‘Now we’re alone. How do you suggest we pass the time?’

CHAPTER TWO

HOLLY’S stomach curled with wicked excitement and desperate nerves. ‘Thank you for rescuing me from an embarrassing moment,’ she mumbled breathlessly, desperately racking her brains for something witty to say and failing. She had no idea how to entertain a prince. ‘I can’t imagine what you must think of me.’

‘I don’t understand your obsession with everyone else’s opinion,’ he drawled. ‘And at the moment I’m not capable of thinking. I’m a normal healthy guy, and every one of my brain cells is currently focused on your gorgeous body.’

Holly made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. Disbelieving, self-conscious, but hopelessly flattered, she stroked her hands over her skirt, looked at him and then looked towards the door. ‘Those women are beautiful.’

‘Those women spend eight hours a day perfecting their appearance. That’s not beauty—it’s obsession.’ Supremely sure of himself, he took possession of her hand, locking her fingers into his.

Holly’s stomach curled with excitement. ‘We’re not supposed to be doing this. They gave me this job because they thought I wasn’t your type.’

‘Major error on their part.’

‘They told me you preferred blondes.’

‘I think I’ve just had a major shift towards redheads.’ With a wicked smile, he lifted his other hand and carelessly fingered a strand of her hair. ‘Your hair is the colour of a Middle Eastern bazaar—cinnamon and gold. Tell me why you were crying.’

Caught in a spin of electrifying, exhilarating excitement, Holly’s brain was in a whirl. For a moment she’d actually forgotten about Eddie. If she told him that her boyfriend had dumped her, would it make her seem less attractive?

‘I was—’

‘On second thoughts, don’t tell me.’ Interrupting her, he lifted her hand, checking for a ring. ‘Single?’

Detecting something in his tone but too dazed to identify what, Holly nodded. ‘Oh yes, completely single,’ she murmured hastily, and then immediately wanted to snatch the words back, because she should have played it cool.

But she didn’t feel cool. She felt—relieved that she’d left the engagement ring at home.

And he was smiling, clearly aware of the effect he was having on her.

Before she could stop him, he pulled the clip out of her hair and slid his fingers through her tumbling, wayward curls. ‘That’s better.’ Very much the one in control, he closed his fingers around her wrists and hooked her arms round his neck. Then he slid his hands down her back and cupped her bottom.

‘Oh.’ Appalled that he seemed to be focusing on all her worst features, Holly gave a whimper of embarrassment and fought the impulse to wriggle away from him. But it was too late to take avoiding action. The confident exploration of his hands had ensured he was already well acquainted with the contours of her bottom.

‘Dio, you have the most fantastic body,’ he groaned, moulding her against the hard muscle of his thighs as if she were made of cling film.

He thought she was fantastic?

Brought into close contact with the physical evidence of his arousal, Holly barely had time to register the exhilarating fact that he really did find her attractive before his mouth came down on hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

It was like being in the path of a lightning strike. Her body jerked with shock. Her head spun, her knees were shaking, and her attempt to catch her breath simply encouraged a still more intimate exploration of her mouth. Never in her life had a simple kiss made her feel like this. Her fingers dug into his shoulders for support and she gasped as she felt his hands slide under her skirt. She felt the warmth of his hands against her bare flesh above her stockings, and then he was backing her against the table, the slick, erotic invasion of his tongue in her mouth sending flames leaping around her body and a burning concentration of heat low in her pelvis.

He was kissing her as though this was their last moments on Earth—as if he couldn’t help himself—and Holly was swept away on the pure adrenaline rush that came with suddenly being made to feel irresistible.

Dimly she thought, This is fast, too fast. But, even as part of her analysed her actions with a touch of shocked disapproval, another part of her was responding with wild abandon, her normal insecurities and inhibitions dissolved in a rush of raw sexual chemistry.

Control slipped slowly from her grasp.

When Eddie had kissed her she’d often found her mind wandering—on occasions she’d guiltily caught herself planning meals and making mental shopping lists—but with the prince the only coherent thought in her head was Please don’t let him stop.

But she had to stop, didn’t she?

She didn’t do things like this.

What if someone walked in?

Struggling to regain some control, Holly gave a low moan and dragged her mouth from his, intending to take a step back and think through her actions. But her good intentions vanished as she gazed up at his lean, bronzed features, her resolve evaporating as she took in the thick, dark eyelashes guarding his impossibly sexy eyes. Oh, dear God—how could any woman say no to a man like this? And, if sheer masculine impact wasn’t enough, the way he was looking at her was the most outrageous compliment she’d ever received.

‘You’re staring at me,’ she breathed, and he gave a lopsided smile.

‘If you don’t want men to stare, stay indoors.’

Holly giggled, as much from nerves as humour. ‘I am indoors.’

‘True.’ The prince lifted one broad shoulder in an unmistakeably Latin gesture. ‘In which case, I can’t see a solution. You’ll just have to put up with me staring, tesoro.’

‘You speak Italian?’

‘I speak whichever language is going to get me the result I want,’ he purred, and she gave a choked laugh because he was so outrageously confident and he made her feel beautiful.

Basking in warmth of his bold appreciation, she suddenly felt womanly and infinitely desirable. Blinded by the sheer male beauty of his features, and by the fact that this incredible man was looking at her, her crushed heart suddenly lifted as though it had been given wings, and her confidence fluttered back to life.

All right, so she wasn’t Eddie’s type.

But this man—this incomparably handsome playboy prince who had his pick of the most beautiful women in the world—found her irresistible.

‘You’re staring at me too,’ he pointed out, his gaze amused as he slid his fingers into her hair with slow deliberation. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we both just close our eyes so that we don’t get distracted from what we’re doing.’

‘What are we doing?’ Weak with desire, Holly could barely form the words, and his smile widened as he gently cupped her face and lowered his mouth slowly towards hers.

‘I think it’s called living for the moment. And kissing you is the most fantastic moment I’ve had in a long time,’ he said huskily, his mouth a breath away from hers.

She waited in an agony of anticipation, but he didn’t seem in a rush to kiss her again, and Holly parted her lips in expectation, hoping that he’d take the hint.

Why on earth had she stopped him?

With a faint whimper of desperation, she looked into his eyes, saw the laughter there and realised that he was teasing her.

‘That isn’t very kind, Your Highness.’ But she found that she was laughing too and her body was on fire.

‘I’m not kind.’ He murmured the words against her mouth. ‘I’m definitely not kind.’

‘I couldn’t care less—please…’ She was breathless and trembling with anticipation. ‘Kiss me again.’

Flashing her a megawatt smile of male satisfaction, the prince finally lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his. He kissed her with consummate skill, his touch confident and possessive as he drew every last drop of response from her parted lips.

Her senses were swamped, her pulse accelerating out of control. Holly was aware of nothing except the overwhelming needs of her own body. Her arms tightened around his neck and she felt the sudden change in him. His kiss changed from playful to purposeful, and she realised with a lurch of exhilarating terror that this wasn’t a mild flirtation or a game of ‘boy kisses girl’. Prince Casper was a sexually experienced man who knew what he wanted and had the confidence to take it.

‘Maybe we should slow this down,’ she gasped, sinking her fingers into the hard muscle of his shoulders to give extra support to her shaking knees.

‘Slow works for me,’ he murmured, sliding his hands over the curve of her bottom. ‘I’m more than happy to savour every moment of your utterly delectable body, and the game hasn’t started yet. Why rush?’

‘I didn’t exactly mean—oh—’ her head fell back as his mouth trailed a hot, sensuous path down her throat ‘I can’t concentrate on anything when you do that—’

‘Concentrate on me,’ he advised, and then he lifted his head and his stunning dark eyes narrowed. ‘You’re shivering. Are you nervous?’

Terrified. Desperate. Weak with longing.

‘I—I haven’t actually done this before.’ Her whispered confession caused him to still.

‘Exactly what,’ he said carefully, ‘Haven’t you done before?’ He released his hold on her bottom and slid his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him, his sharply intelligent eyes suddenly searching.

Holly swallowed.

Oh God, he was going to walk away from her. If she told him the truth, this experienced, sophisticated, gorgeous man would let her go and she’d spend the rest of her life regretting it.

Was she really going to let that happen?

No longer questioning herself, she slid her arms back round his neck. She didn’t know what was going on here, she had no idea why she was feeling this way, but she knew she didn’t want it to stop. ‘I meant that I’ve never done anything like this in such a public place.’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘We’re alone.’

‘But anyone could walk in.’ She wished he’d kiss her again. Would he think she was forward if she kissed him? ‘What would happen then?’

‘They’d be arrested,’ he said dryly, ‘And carted off to jail.’

‘Oh—’ Reminded of exactly with whom she was dealing, Holly felt suddenly intimidated. Please, please, let him kiss her again. When he’d kissed her she’d forgotten he was a prince. She’d forgotten everything. Feeling as though she were standing on the edge of a life-changing moment, Holly gazed up at him and he gave a low laugh.

‘You talk too much, do you know that? So—now what? Yes, or no?’ He smoothed a rebellious strand of hair away from her flushed cheeks in a slow, sensual movement, and that meaningful touch was enough to raise her temperature several degrees.

He was giving her the choice.

He was telling her that, if he kissed her again, he was going all the way.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, knowing that there would be a price to pay, but more than willing to pay it. ‘Oh, yes.’

If she’d expected her shaky encouragement to be met with a kiss, she was disappointed.

‘If you want to slow things down,’ he murmured against her throat, ‘I suppose I could always eat the dessert that’s waiting for me on the table.’

Holly gave a faint whimper of frustration, and then he lifted his head and she saw the wicked gleam in his eyes.

‘You’re teasing me again.’

‘You asked me to slow down, tesoro.’

She was finding it hard to breathe. ‘I’ve definitely changed my mind about that.’

‘Then why don’t you tell me what you want?’ He gave a sexy, knowing smile that sent her body into meltdown.

‘I want you to kiss me again.’ And not to stop.

‘Do you?’ His head lowered to hers, thick lashes partially shielding the mockery in his beautiful eyes. ‘You’re not supposed to give me orders.’

‘Are you going to arrest me?’

‘Now, there’s a thought.’ He breathed the words against her mouth. ‘I could clap you in handcuffs and chain you to my bed until I’m bored.’

Her last coherent thought was Please don’t let him ever be bored, and then he lifted her, and the demands of his hands on her thighs made it impossible for her not to wrap her legs around his waist. There was the faint rattle of fine bone-china as he positioned her on the table, and only when she felt the roughness of his zip against the soft flesh of her inner thigh did she realise that he’d somehow manoeuvred her skirt up round her waist.

With a gasp of embarrassment, she grabbed at the skirt, but she felt the hard thrust of his body against hers.

‘I love the stockings,’ he groaned, his dark eyes ablaze with sexual heat as he scanned the lacy suspender-belt transecting her milky-white thighs.

Thighs that definitely weren’t skinny.

The fragile shoots of her self-confidence withered and died under his blatant scrutiny, and Holly tugged ineffectually at the hem of her skirt, trying to cover herself. ‘Sylvia insists on stockings,’ she muttered, and then, ‘Do you think you could stop looking at me?’

‘No, I definitely couldn’t,’ he assured her, a laugh in his voice as he released his hold on her bottom, grasped her hands and anchored them firmly around his neck. ‘Take a deep breath in for me.’

‘Why?’

A wicked smile transformed his face from handsome to devastating. ‘Because I want you to undo a few more buttons without me having to move my hands again. I’m never letting go of your bottom.’

Hyper-sensitive to that particular subject, Holly tensed, only to relax again as she registered the unmistakeable relish with which he was exploring her body. ‘You like my bottom?’

‘I just want to lose myself in you. What’s your secret—exercise? Plastic surgery?’ He gave another driven groan, captured her hips and drew her hard against his powerful erection. ‘What did you do to it?’

‘I ate too many biscuits,’ Holly muttered truthfully, and he gave a laugh.

‘I love your sense of humour. And from now on you can expect to receive a box of your favourite kind of biscuits on a daily basis.’

Slightly stunned that he actually seemed to love her worst feature, and trying not to be shocked by his unashamed sexuality, Holly was about to speak when his mouth collided with hers again and sparks exploded inside her head. It was like being the centre piece at a fireworks display, and she gave a disbelieving moan that turned to a gasp as her shirt fell open and her bra slid onto her lap.

‘Are these also the result of the famous biscuit-diet?’ An appreciative gleam in his eyes, he transferred his attention from her bottom to her breasts. ‘Dio, you’re so fantastic I’m not even thinking about anything else while I’m with you.’

Something about that comment struck a slightly discordant note in her dazzled brain. Before she could dissect his words in more detail, he dragged his fingers across one nipple and shockwaves of pleasure sliced through her body. Then he lowered his dark head and flicked her nipple with his tongue.

Tortured by sensation, Holly’s head fell back. Inhibitions blown to the wind by his expert touch, driven to the point of explosion by his vastly greater experience, she knew she was completely out of control and didn’t even care. She felt like a novice rider clinging to the back of a thoroughbred stallion.

The burning ache in her pelvis grew to unbearable proportions, and she ground herself against him with a whimper of need. Desperate to relieve the almost intolerable heat that threatened to burn her up, she dug her nails into his shoulders.

‘Please—oh—please.’

‘My pleasure.’ His eyes were two narrow slits of fire, his jaw hard, streaks of colour highlighting his cheekbones as he scanned her flushed cheeks and parted lips. Then he flattened her to the table and came down over her, the muscles in his shoulders bunched as he protected her from his weight.

Feeling as though she’d been dropped naked onto a bonfire, Holly gave a low moan that he smothered with a slow, purposefully erotic kiss.

‘You are the most delicious thing that has ever been put on my table, my gorgeous waitress,’ he murmured, his desperately clever fingers reaching lower. The intimacy of his touch brought another gasp to her lips and the gasp turned to a low moan as he explored her with effortless skill and merciless disregard for modesty.

‘Are you protected?’ His husky question didn’t begin to penetrate her dazed brain, and she made an unintelligible sound, her legs tightening around his back, her body arching off the table in an attempt to ease the fearsome ache he’d created.

His mouth came down on hers again and she felt his strong hands close around her hips. He shifted his position, tilted her slightly, and then surged into her with a decisive thrust that drew a disbelieving groan from him and a shocked gasp from Holly.

An explosion of unbelievable pleasure suddenly splintered into pain, and her sharp cry caused him to still instantly.

Pain and embarrassment mingled in equal measure and for a moment Holly dug her nails hard into his shoulders, afraid to move in case moving made it worse. And then suddenly the pain was gone and there was only pleasure—dark, forbidden pleasure that beckoned her forwards into a totally new world. She moved her hips restlessly, not sure what she wanted him to do, but needing him to do something.

There was the briefest hesitation on his part while he scanned her flushed cheeks, then he surged into her again, but this time more gently, his eyes holding hers the whole time as he introduced her to an intimacy that was new to her. And it was pleasure such as she’d never imagined. Pleasure that blew her mind.

She didn’t know herself—her body at the mercy of sensual pleasure and the undeniable skill of an experienced male.

Controlled by his driving thrusts, she raced towards a peak and then was flung high into space, stars exploding in her head as he swallowed her cries of pleasure with his mouth, and reached his own peak with a triumphant groan.

Gradually Holly floated back down to earth, aware of the harshness of his breathing and the frantic beating of her own heart. He’d buried his face in her neck, and Holly focused on his glossy dark hair with glazed vision and numb disbelief.

Had that really just happened?

Swamped by an emotion that she couldn’t define, she lifted her hand and tentatively touched him, checking that he was real.

She felt an immediate surge of tension through his powerful frame and heard his sharp intake of breath. Then he lifted his head, stared down into her eyes.

To Holly it was the single most intimate moment of her life, and when he opened his mouth to speak her heart softened.

‘The match has started,’ he drawled flatly. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve missed kick-off.’

Keeping his back to the girl, Casper stared blankly through the glass of the President’s Suite down into the stadium, struggling to regain some measure of control after what had undoubtedly been the most exciting sexual encounter of his life.

On the pitch below, England had possession of the ball, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t in his seat, watching the game.

Which was something else that he didn’t understand.

What the hell was going on?

Why wasn’t he rushing to watch the game?

And since when had he been driven to have raw, uncontrolled sex on a table with an innocent woman?

Innocent.

Only now was he realising that all the signs had been there. And he’d missed them. Or had he ignored them?

Either way, he was fully aware of the irony of the situation.

He’d had relationships with some of the world’s most beautiful, experienced and sophisticated women, but none of them had made him feel the way she had.

This was possibly the first time he’d enjoyed uncomplicated, motiveless sex. Sex driven by sheer, animal lust rather than human ambition.

Yes, the girl had known he was a prince.

But he was experienced enough to know that she’d wanted him as a man.

Hearing the faint brush of clothing against flesh, he knew she was dressing. For once he was grateful for the iron self-control and self-discipline that had been drilled into him in his few years in the army, because that was the only thing currently standing between restraint and a repeat performance.