Page 30 of The Prince Who Loved Me

“Oh. My,” she said.

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? His emotions thrashed inside him and he tried to wrangle them under control.

“You’re no frog, Prince Charming. That was a pretty damn good kiss. Best I’ve had this week, actually.”

A frog. The electricity inside him dimmed. “Brandi—”

“Obviously we can’t do that again.”

She sounded very sure of herself, which went against the way her lips had pressed against his. “We can’t?”

She stilled for a moment before giving him a sunny smile. “Of course not. Sharing a kiss like that is not a thing friends do. A really wonderful, passionate kiss.” Her hand crept to her lips but she caught it before it touched them. “Friends don’t do that.”

“What if we move our friendship to the next level?” He kept his eyes on hers and took her hand, letting his senses be filled with her. “I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to for a while. To show you that you don’t have to go online to find someone to love because there’s someone right here. In front of you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, her skin smooth against his rough palm.

“Sebastien.” Her voice was a whispered plea, but he didn’t know what for. Her hand circled his wrist but didn’t pull away from his caress.

“You felt the passion between us. I’m ready for it all.” He leaned in, close enough to feel her sweet breath on his face. “I’m going to kiss you again. Because I’ve been crazy in love with you since we met, and I’m not letting you get away from me now.”

Chapter 7

“No.” Brandi tightened her grip on Sebastien’s wrist and pulled her head away from him. Oh, God, what was she doing? What was HE doing? That kiss was knee-jellying, and heat settled in her belly, warming all parts of her. She tingled as if he’d touched her again. But he deserved someone better. Someone who knew their roots and was accomplished. Someone who wouldn’t embarrass him if a tabloid dug into her past or talked to her ex boyfriends.

Someone who wasn’t her.

He jerked back immediately and stalked to the other side of the sofa, letting loose a quiet argument with himself of what she thought was French but with some Italian mixed in.

His solid body moved back and forth while she stayed on the couch, wrapping her arms around her middle as if that could settle the internal battle of desire warring with shock. They were friends. Friends didn’t do… that.

Finally he stopped moving, his back toward her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. His shoulders raised and lowered several times, as if he had just finished a race. When he turned toward her, his face was a mixture of longing and regret and shame. How had she never noticed the blue in his eyes growing darker with his banked desire?

“Je suis désolé.I am sorry.” He brought his heels together and dipped his head, arms straight by his side. “I’ll go. I’ll have Loïc pack my things and I’ll be out of here by the time you’re done with work.”

“This right here.” She stood up and pointed at him, ignoring her rapid heartbeat and the pull of his body. “This is exactly the reason why this isn’t going to happen. You’re not going anywhere if I have to hide your Gucci luggage.” Becausehe’d leave her, like her mom had, like her boyfriends had when they got bored with her, and ruin the best thing in her life. Tears stung the back of her eyes but she swallowed the raging emotions. “Sebastien, don’t.”

He flinched as if she’d slapped him but he didn’t move. When she stepped toward him, he retreated to the other side of the sofa. His gaze stayed laser focused on her.

“Look,” she said. And after that brilliant beginning, she didn’t know where she should go. At least he wasn’t running away. She tried again. “Look. We have too much invested in almost ten years of friendship to let one …” what could she call it? “…situation get in the way. You mean too much to me to let that happen.”

Brandi took a tentative step toward him, afraid he’d run. He didn’t move, but his muscles stood tense.

“I don’t know what to do now,” she whispered.

“I can think of a million things for you to do.” He gave a half-laugh, half groan, and ran a hand through his hair. “But right now, the best thing is for you to go upstairs, go to bed.”

Like she could sleep after this. “Don’t leave.” She almost said “me” at the end of that sentence. “Fountenoy Hall, I mean.”

He’d always been a solid presence in her life. When she’d been chasing the next guy, when Wendy had been annoyed at her for not being responsible for herself, when her grandmother had died.

He gave a quick nod, but didn’t say anything.

She searched his eyes, looking for a hint of what he was thinking. He steadily held her gaze with the same expression he’d had for all these years. Years he’d been in love with her. Now she could see the heat and passion and his feelings all wrapped up in that steady gaze.

She’d been blind. With all her experience with men, she should have known, should have seen it.

“Go upstairs, Brandi.” Sebastien’s voice was hoarse and thick with his accent and emotions.

She fled the room to her sanctuary upstairs.