ANDI was having a perfectly fine time, minding her own business and people watching, when Rafaele and Elisabetta pulled her onto the dance floor.
“Like I said earlier, cara, when in Roma,” Rafaele said as he grabbed Andi’s hand with one of his and swirled her around while twirling his date with the other.
Soon Andi was caught up in the energy of the throng, pressed shoulder to shoulder with sweaty strangers no matter where she shifted her body.
It surprised her when suddenly the crowd parted to make way for several fashionably dressed women, classically chic in stark black, showing a lot of leg and even more cleavage. Andi knew she could never compete with women of that level, so instead she tuned them out, closed her eyes, and just tried to absorb the moment, letting the music take over.
But then she felt someone pull on her hand. Thinking it was Rafaele, she twirled around once, but whoever it was continued to tug at her, so she opened her eyes to see him. That damned prince. Good God, could she not shake this man from her life?
Andi growled, but it was so noisy the sound was wasted since no one could hear it. “You!” she said, pointing her finger. “What are you doing bothering me yet again?”
Zander took hold of her other hand and pulled her closer while the posse of tall, dark, and slutty girls all stood nearby glaring, arms crossed, their bodies shifting in a near-imperceptible dance, barely moving to the beat, all while guarding their royal catch.
Andi kept tugging away, but Zander insisted on pulling her closer.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted at him, but of course no one could hear what she was saying. Perhaps if someone looked at the grimace on her face, they’d pick up that she was one pissed-off female, but besides being loud, it was dark enough to miss the nuance of facial expressions.
“Hey, hey, hey! Easy, there, wildcat,” Zander said, stroking her arm as if petting a cat. “Calm down already.”
Meanwhile, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to divert the three wicked-hot stepsisters so they didn’t take a turn in manhandling Andi right off the dance floor. Zander pulled Andi close enough to him that any casual observer would think they were simply slow dancing.
“What is your problem?” she said, swatting at him.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Zander said, leaning in close to her ear and speaking in a singsongy voice.
“Trust me, nothing you do would shock me at this point. What, did you torture and kill a helpless mouse and now you’re bringing me its lifeless body as a sacrificial gift? Thanks, but I’ve already got a cat that does that for me.”
“Now, now. No need to be snarky,” he murmured, his lips so close to Andi’s ear that for a minute she forgot she resented the hell out of this man and instead felt all warm and gooey inside as his voice vibrated against her skin. “What is it you’d like more than anything in the world right now?”
“To have you remove your hands from my body,” she said. “But clearly that’s not on the menu.”
“You’re a tough one. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone treat me with such complete disdain before. I kind of like it.” He made a purring noise into her ear before pulling back his head and winking at her.
“Grrr! You’re impossible!” she said. “Why are you bothering me? It was bad enough what happened at the train station, but then that woman, and then you, and then my phone—”
“Your phone? And what about that woman?”
“Never mind the old woman. Except that you were exceedingly insensitive to her needs. And my phone? Well, no thanks to you, it went missing.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, holding his finger up. “Why is it my fault your phone went missing?”
Andi thought for a second, her face tight with annoyance. “If you hadn’t been so rude about that poor woman, I wouldn’t have stormed off like I did.”
Zander nodded his head as if he understood. “Oh, okay, I get it. You lose your phone, and it’s my fault it’s missing.” He scratched his very sexy, stubbled chin. “Right. Makes perfect sense to me.” He put his face close to hers. “I’m not the enemy here, Andi.”
“You might not think so.”
“I’m not the enemy here, Andi,” he said again, this time in a whisper like he was gentling a wild horse.
“Wait a minute,” she said, squinting her eyes and balling her fists. “How do you know my name is Andi?” she glared at him. “Do you have some weird palace spy thing going on where you can find out anything about anyone? Did you grab my fingerprints when I fell? Send it off to the secret service in your country? And then you hunt me down here? God, I feel so violated!”
Zander started to laugh. “You are a piece of damn work, lady,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her phone, dangling it from his fingers over her head.
“My phone!” Andi said, jumping up and trying to grab for it. But Zander held it just beyond her reach. “Give me my phone, dammit!”
Zander wagged a finger. “Uh, uh, uh,” he said. “Two things first. Number one, I want you to stop treating me like I’m a bad guy, and”—he paused as Andi remained poised to freak out—“secondly, I respectfully request one dance from you.”
Andi’s face turned red with rage. “Excuse me? You,” she said, jamming her finger into his chest, “want me”—she aimed her thumb toward herself—“to be nice to you?”
Zander laughed. “Crazy notion, right? Kind of like what should happen when two strangers meet each other?”
“And then dance with you? Where do you get off?” She no sooner said that than she knew what his answer would be, so she stopped it before it came out. “Wait, don’t even answer that. I know you—it’ll be some vulgar reply.”
Zander squinted his eyes at her. “What do you mean you know me? Until today I’ve never laid eyes on you. And now twice I’ve been the object of your extremely intense—and dare I say irrational—ire. What gives?”
While talking, Zander had slipped the phone into his front pocket and then succeeded in shifting their bodies a little deeper into the thick crowd, ensuring that Andi would have a hell of a time storming off this time.
“What gives is I want my phone back!”
“Here are your options: you can reach into my pants pocket and dig the phone out. Though you never know what you’ll find when you stick your hand down there.” He arched his eyebrow suggestively. “Or you agree to one dance. I prove to you I’m not the enemy, and then you get your phone and we call it even Stephen. Fair enough?” He batted his eyelashes at her and smiled as sincerely as possible, which didn’t exactly require effort from the man known in the tabloids as Prince Charming. “But first, please allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m officially known as His Royal Highness, Prince Alexander, Duke of Garibaldi, but everyone calls me Zander.” He green eyes twinkled as he dipped his head in a bow and gave her hand a kiss.
Andi muttered a spate of vulgarities just under her breath, biding her time while trying to decide how to handle this.
Meanwhile, Zander pulled her closer, leaning in till his nose was buried in her long, blond hair. He took a deep breath. “You smell amazing,” he said, barely audible above the din of the crowd and music but loud enough for his dance partner to hear it.
“Yep. Six months’ worth or dirt and sweat built up. Just for you.” She couldn’t help but get that dig in.
Andi was torn between wanting to knee the man in the crotch and maybe possibly kinda sorta considering yielding to the moment. After all, she had prejudged him to be a total asshole. And while he very well could be one still, he seemed like he was trying. But then again, he could have just handed her the phone and been done with it. But then again, he could have just handed her the phone and then she’d have been done with this. Clearly neither of those endings satisfied him. Or her, for that matter.
As Zander pulled her in a little tighter, she felt her body soften and mold to his. Zander was no longer trying to pen her in to keep her from breaking away; rather, his warm hands were settled on her lower back, his face still nestled in her hair, his mouth so close to her ear she could hear him breathing. It was soothing, this feeling she’d almost forgotten about. It had been so long since a man had held her close.
The two stayed like that for a minute or two. While the crowd danced on around them, they seemed lost in their own music.
Weird, Andi thought. Two minutes ago I wanted to kill him, but now...
Zander pressed himself into Andi and suddenly she was aware of the unmistakable proof that he was feeling as aroused as she was. Well, maybe even more so.
Zander leaned his head back for a minute and cupped Andi’s chin in his hands. As he fixed his eyes on her pale blue ones, he brushed at a tiny cut on the side of her face with his thumb. “From today? When you fell?”
Andi nodded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he said. “It all happened so quickly, then you yelled at me, and then you ran off.”
Andi just stared, not knowing what to say, barely remembering why she’d yelled at him in the first place. She totally saw how women fell under his spell. Zander leaned down and pressed his lips gently to the cut on her cheek, which was all it took for Andi to melt.
And then Zander moved a little farther south, gently seeking her lips, and when he found them, he settled his mouth on hers, licking the seam of her mouth while pressing her hips even closer against his body with his large hands.
Andi couldn’t help but think there was no way she’d be able to do a quick grab and go with the phone at this point. No hand was going to get into that pocket with the size of what he was packing. And how embarrassing would it be to even try at this point? Not that she actually minded it. She was struggling to remember the last time she’d been with a man, even just to kiss one. It had to have been a couple of years! And to think she’d gotten Prince Charming this turned on that he had a bulge in his pants, thus imprisoning her phone.
Andi thought back to the first time she’d seen Zander’s bulge, minus the protective clothing. Which of course almost made her laugh out loud—who even has a first time to see someone naked like that, under such weird circumstances? Ugh, but that brought to mind all those stupid women who’d stripped down to nothing right beside him. Which made her think of the Slut Sisters who’d been hovering nearby, a hundred times more beautiful and sexy than she was. And then she started thinking about what she was doing.
Good Lord! I’m pressed up against the very cock that got me fired, she thought. But really, did his dick get her fired? Or did her own impulsivity do it? To be fair, she had to accept she had a role in it. Plus, well, without that prompt, she’d have been spinning her wheels in Vegas, waitressing and taking classes, and would never have set out to discover the world as she had. So maybe she owed him a bit of gratitude rather than her undying ire.
Andi let her lips part a little as Zander deepened the kiss, their tongues twining as they explored one another further. Andi pressed her hand to Zander’s head, encouraging him.
Maybe it was okay to let go for once, she thought. To just go with the flow and not overthink things and to let bygones be bygones. For that matter, she was struggling to remember what her bygones even were. Because, man, this guy could kiss like nobody’s business. Between the music and the moment and the man, his body pressed to hers, his tongue working wonders with hers, that little friend of his just about rolling out the red carpet for Andi to come out and play, it was all so intoxicating.
She felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Mi dispiace, Andi,” a voice said from behind her. “I am most sorry to interrupt you, but we are leaving now.” Rafaele and Elisabetta stood nearby, anxious to get going.
With the hovering hoes staring daggers, poor Andi felt like she was the feature performer in a strip club and wanted to die from embarrassment. So out of character for her.
And like a needle scratching abruptly across the vinyl grooves of an LP record, the spell was broken. Andi pulled back, staring up at Zander, disoriented. And Zander stared back at her, a grin slicing across his face despite himself.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out her phone, and handed it to her. Andi pressed it on, and there, magically, in front of her (and their audience), was the screensaver Zander had substituted on her telephone. The man, naked, in all his glory.
“You messed with my phone!” she said as loudly as she could, just as she drew back her hand. “How dare you? You, you, you pig!”
With that, she slapped him across the face and stormed off the dance floor, leaving Zander rubbing his sore cheek, having suddenly gone from boner to bonehead in the blink of an eye.