He's a Prince. She's a journalist.
They have a complicated relationship. More like he's into her but she hates his guts.
He needs to behave. She needs to let loose.
He's interested in her because she's the last girl interested in him.
Both of them n...
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"Tell me two things you don't like about yourself."
My lips tug up. I'm getting used to Mark's random questions. I pass a palm across my forehead, and despite the hat I bought for protection, the heat feels overwhelming. Thank God we're on a Yacht, on our way to the horizontal waterfall. The sea breeze that teases my skin is refreshing.
"Two things I don't like about me?" I repeat for confirmation, and Mark nods. The sun tan looks good on him, and I love the natural sun streaks on his hair. But of course, he's been in Australia longer than me. So far, my skin is pink, which seems fitting, since I'm sweating like a pig.
Creasing my brows, I gaze at the sea. "I don't trust easily," Mark snorts at that, and a giggle leaves my lips as I go on, "and I take everything too seriously." My frown deepens. "I guess I need to enjoy things more."
Mark's eyes are intense as he stares at me. He lifts his bottle of water and cheers. "Amen to that." He takes a sip before gazing at the ocean. "The only thing we'll ever take with us is the memories we create, so we're supposed to enjoy every second. Or some shit like that."
I laugh at that. "For a moment, I thought some sort of angelic chant would sound in the background, or something."
He throws back his head as he laughs too. "I'll take a mental note to synchronize my phone's music to my wisdom moments." Then, he reaches out for my hand and pulls me closer to him. His hand travels across my arm and ends on the back of my neck. His pupils are completely dilated and I feel like I'm out of breath before he kisses me.
It's a soft kiss, filled with promises of making new memories, or at least that's what I like to think. My stomach is doing somersaults as we pull away.
I don't move from his side. It feels amazing to be held and to be kissed like that. It had been too damn long since I've felt like this. And even though I know it will probably won't last, I want to enjoy it, because I bloody deserve it.
Mark passes an arm across my shoulders and a contented sigh is about to leave my lips when my eyes widen.
What if Mark thinks that I'm doing all of this because he flew me to Australia? Because let's face it. I so want to sleep with him!
I shift in my seat, trying to pull away from him, but his hold tightens. "Aren't you hot?" I blurt out, trying to find an excuse to move, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, my cheeks flush.
"I know I'm hot, Kate. You don't need to tell me that!"
Rolling my eyes, I seize the opportunity to pull away. I feel uncomfortable. I don't want him to think that I might sleep with him only because he brought me here. It's something that has been brewing inside of me for quite some time, but he doesn't know that. Hell, I hadn't realized it either. I'm not sure when it happened, but it's pretty obvious that I'm nuts for this guy. Also, I'm not sure if that's a good thing, considering my awful luck in love. Not to add that he's the bloody Prince of England, and as much as I admire Emily and Scott, I'm not into the whole dating-a-royal-thing. I guess I'm more like the kiss-the-crap-out-of-a-royal.
