A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember

8

A GIRLIE PARTY was every bit as bad as Annie feared it would be. Which is how she found herself with curlers in her hair-so tight to her scalp she’d never need a face-lift-her entire face slathered in a mud-colored mask guaranteed to “pull out all those nasty wrinkles you haven’t yet developed,” and her nails painted the most atrocious color of pink that Lissa promised would match her new dress.

Goodie.

But all of it paled in comparison to the sensation of ice-cold cream applied to her breasts with the promise to “uplift and rejuvenate.”

“Not that you need any rejuvenating,” Lissa said cheerfully after the equally torturous removal of said cold cream. “You have great breasts.”

“Um…thanks. I think.”

“No, really.”

Annie covered herself back up with the spaghetti-strap tank top and wondered if Kyle had thought so, too. Then she got mad at herself for wondering such a stupid thing and switched to wondering how long before she could kick everyone out of her room without insulting them.

Then someone knocked at the door.

“Grand Central Station,” she muttered, and hopped off the bed, passing by a mirror and nearly leaping out of her skin at the sight of her curlers and mask. Please let someone have screwed up and sent room service up with ice cream.

With fudge to pour over the top.

Beneath her top, her breasts brushed against the soft material. They felt the promised revitalization, and were extremely sensitive. She wondered if Kyle would notice when she once again put on the dress from hell the day after tomorrow. Then she wondered why she cared what he thought.

She would have laughed at herself, but it’d crack the face mask, and if she cracked it, she was afraid Lissa would insist she start over.

If she had to start over with this beauty regime, she might go postal. And since weddings were supposed to be happy events, she took a deep breath and sucked it up.

Not that it was easy. For all her self-proclaimed inner strength, she felt a little fragile. A little vulnerable. The events with Jimmy had taken their toll, no matter how she told herself it shouldn’t. “Sucking it up,” she reminded herself. With a sigh, she hauled open the door, prepared to kiss the feet of the room-service attendant bearing ice cream.

But the person standing on the other side of the door was not room service bearing ice cream.

Kyle stood there holding up the doorjamb with his broad shoulder, looking big and edgy and even yummier than she remembered.

“That’s twice now,” he said.

She was just stunned enough to repeat him. “Twice?”

“That I’ve made you speechless.” He tapped her nose. “I have to say, I’m fairly speechless myself, Princess.”

She gasped and brought her hands up to her face, remembering she looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. “Oh my God.”

“Kyle?” Lissa came up behind Annie. “Honey, what are you doing here? This is girls only. Now scat. We’ve got facials and manicures and breast treatments going on.”

Kyle stopped short. “Breast treatments?”

“Yes, they enhance and smooth,” Lissa’s sister cheerfully told him. “We’ve all been creamed.” Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse. “Want to see-”

“No,” Annie said quickly, stepping in front of her. “I’m sure Kyle here can use his imagination.”

“Yeah. My imagination.” Kyle was looking a little unfocused. A little dazed.

Until his eyes met hers. “How about you, Annie? Want to show me what you’ve creamed?”

“Very funny. Now get the hell out of here.”

“You sound a little hostile there. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t want me to stick around-Hey!”

She’d put her hands on his chest and pushed. Big mistake. Not the push, but her hands on his chest. First of all, she didn’t budge his solid mass. Second of all, her entire body quivered in delight at the feel of him beneath her hands.

Pathetic. She really was. “Just get out.”

Lissa was grinning stupidly at them. “You two really do have a thing for one another.”

“What?” Annie managed to laugh through her mask-stiffened face. “Don’t be silly.”

“It’s adorable.”

“It’s crap,” Annie said.

“I didn’t know princesses could say crap,” Kyle said.

“You like each other,” Lissa insisted. “I can see it all over your faces.”

“Lissa, my face has an inch of green stuff on it.”

But Lissa wouldn’t be deterred. “I’ve heard all about stuff like this, how under immense strain and pressure, especially under the threat of death, people who are polar opposites-and believe me, the two of you are polar opposites-come together.”

“We did not come together,” Annie said, flicking Kyle a dark look when he simply lifted a brow.

“Know what I think?” Lissa continued to bestow a proud, happy look at them. “I think there was more than a kiss. I think you did the wild thing.”

“Okay, here’s what I think.” Annie didn’t care if her hands were going to tingle forever, she put them back on Kyle and once again tried shoving him out the door. “I think we need to get rid of the single male ruining our female party.”

“Oh, Annie, that’s so sweet,” Lissa said, putting her hands together. “I didn’t know you were so into it.”

“I’m…into…it,” she puffed, trying to budge the unbudgeable Kyle. “Help, please.”

“No, you know what?” Lissa let out a smile that didn’t ease Annie one bit. “We’re done here. I think we’ll just leave the two of you alone. In case you have more…wild things to do.”

“Funny,” Annie said, but started to panic when the girls all packed up their stuff and headed for the door. “Wait! Don’t go! My face-”

“Just wash off the mask in five more minutes,” Lissa said.

“But my hair-”

“Take out the curlers in ten.”

Annie plastered herself to the connecting door. “You can’t go.”

“Why?” Lissa asked.

“Yeah, why?” Kyle echoed.

Because then she’d be alone with Kyle, who stood there looking so damn sure of himself in jeans, a soft-looking shirt and hiking boots. Sort of like a walking advertisement for Outsider Magazine. She loved that magazine.

“Lissa, the breast cream,” she said in a desperate, last-ditch attempt. “It didn’t work. We need to do it again.”

Lissa grinned and tossed the jar to Kyle, who caught it with ease.

“I love applying breast cream,” Kyle said.

Annie felt a scream of frustration coming on, even as Lissa tugged her away from the door. “But-”

But nothing. The door shut in her face.

Leaving her alone with Kyle Moore. Cop. Best man, not groom. Tough and big and gorgeous. Holding breast cream.

Please, her body begged.

No. Flings weren’t for princesses. She knew this for a fact, as she’d tried hard to make it work for her before. Flings weren’t for women with secret dreams of happily-ever-after.

And how are you supposed to get that happily-ever-after if you keep shoving everyone away, a little voice asked.

She ignored the little voice. She stared at the wood door in front of her and willed herself to relax.

You are not attracted to the man behind you.

But she was.

Well, then you will not admit to being attracted to the man behind you.

No matter what he did or said.

“ANNIE?”

She didn’t move, just stared at the door in front of her.

“Annie?”

“Go away, Kyle.”

“But I just got here.” He watched the back of her head covered in curlers, imagining he could see the wheels inside turning like crazy.

Poor baby. She was studying the wood grain of the door as if it held the utmost fascination for her.

She held the utmost fascination for him, though he felt vaguely uncomfortable with that realization. She wore only a skimpy little tank top and boxers, nothing else. Her bare feet curled into the rug. Her legs were toned and tanned and looked silky smooth. So did her arms. But it was the back of her neck, exposed by her tipped head and the fact that her hair was being tortured by the curlers, that really drew him.

He wanted to kiss her there. Then turn her around and dip his gaze to see for himself what that breast cream had done for an already perfect set of breasts and the most mouthwatering nipples he’d ever seen.

But she didn’t move, and he sighed. She was going to be difficult.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No. No problem. What makes you think there’s a problem?”

“Because you won’t look at me.”

“Maybe I don’t like to look at you.”

“Annie.”

“Why are you here?” At her sides, her hands fisted. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough today?”

“Humiliated? You’re kidding, right?” He took a step toward her, so that the only thing that separated them was the ridiculous curlers in her hair. The tip of her head didn’t quite come up to his chin, and the oddest feelings slammed into him.

Protectiveness.

Possessiveness.

Oh, man. Big mental step back here. Biiiigggg one. “I never humiliated you.”

She let out a low laugh and continued staring at the door.

Ah, hell. Why was he here? He could no longer remember, but felt certain it had something to do with wanting to tease her about the strippers and her reaction to them. About offering to strip for her, just so she didn’t feel left out.

He hadn’t expected his tomboy to be wearing a facial mask and breast cream, looking so…well, vulnerable.

“I’d like you to leave-” She gasped when he tossed the breast cream to the bed and whirled her around.

“That’s better,” he decided, keeping his hands on her shoulders to prevent her escape. “Talk to me, not the door.”

“The door cares about my feelings more than you do.”

That stunned him for a moment, during which time he realized he was still holding her. She felt good in his hands, damn good, and before he could help it, he’d shifted a little closer. “I care about your feelings.”

“No, you care about the cream.”

His gaze dipped down to the edges of the tank top, and the smooth curves plumping out of it.

“You’re wondering.”

He looked into her face. “Wondering?”

“If I still have the cream on.”

No, he was wondering which bridesmaid put it on for her and if they’d let him watch next time.

“Kyle?”

He was lost in the fantasy. “Hmm?”

“I’m waiting with bated breath to hear why you’re here.”

Why he was here. “The strippers.” He was pleased to remember. “You were bothered by them. And I…” Nothing to do here but speak the truth. “I was going to offer to make you feel a little easier about it. You know, the whole stripping thing.”

“By…”

“Well…” He tried his most charming smile. It wasn’t a tool he used often, but whenever he had put it to the test, it hadn’t failed him yet.

Annie just stared at him.

Damn. It failed him. First time for everything, he supposed. “I was…uh, going to offer to strip for you.”

She let out a laugh. “And that would have made me feel more comfortable, how?”

Her voice said, “not interested,” but as he watched, her nipples puckered. Gotcha, he thought.

“You know this might be a huge shock to your ego,” she said, crossing her arms and thereby removing his most excellent view. “But I’m not interested in you.”

He took another step forward, watching with amusement as her chin came up. She refused to back up, though, his lovely, angry princess, which suited him just fine as it allowed her body to brush his. “Let’s stick to the truth,” he said.

“Which is?”

“Which is…” He reached out and ran a hand over her mud-slathered jaw. “You’re attracted to me, every bit as much as I’m attracted to you. You’re yearning and burning to find out if we’d be as combustible together as it seems. And…” he leaned in to speak directly in her ear, his lips just brushing her skin, causing a shiver that wracked his body as well as hers “…you want to know if making love with me would be…what did you say? Overrated.”

She went utterly still.

“It wouldn’t be, Annie. It’d be perfect.”

He would have sworn she let out a little sound that conveyed her reluctant arousal at his words before she turned and jerked open the door.

“Good night.” Her voice shook just a little.

“Annie-”

“Good night.”

“Dream of me,” he said, walking past her.

Because he sure as hell would dream of her, and misery loved company.