4. Natalie

Chapter 4

Natalie

“Mind sharing, Princess?”A deep voice comes from above me, jolting me out of my story.

My fingers twitch from the surprise, and the e-reader slips out of my hands.

I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact.

I’ve dropped it on my face before. I know this isn’t going to feel good.

Except nothing happens.

Slowly, I open my eyes.

Then I open them the rest of the way, because standing beside me is… a man.

I swallow.

He’s just a man.

A man of flesh and blood.

And muscles.

And sweat.

And tattoos and arm veins and muscles.

Good grief, the muscles.

From my reclined position, I can’t tell how tall he is, but his thighs are…

Right there.

And his shirt is clinging to…

Good grief.

And his large arms are attached to large hands. And one of those hands is wrapped around my e-reader, making the device look like a deck of cards.

My eyes drop back to his thighs. And his navy blue shorts. And his… bulge.

Get a hold of yourself.

I snap my eyes up, ignoring the thin white T-shirt and ignoring his sleeve tattoo.

There will be no drooling over this man.

I try to focus from his neck up, but my eyes are stuck staring at his neck, which is also covered in ink.

He’s just a muscled-up, tattooed dude.

He’s just a man.

A man reading my book, a little voice reminds me.

Oh god, my book!

Remembering the scene I was in the middle of is enough to snap me out of my daze.

I sit up and twist toward the man so I’m facing him when my sandaled feet hit the floor.

It’s a mistake, though, because now my face is level with his stomach, and my eyes are back to focusing on what’s inside his shorts.

And I swear it just twitched at me.

A throat clears.

Inwardly, I wince.

Outwardly, I lift my gaze as though I didn’t just get caught staring at a stranger’s junk.

But he’s not looking at me. He’s still reading.

“Um…” I start, but that’s all I manage.

What is happening?

Men don’t fluster me.

They don’t.

And I’m not going to think about him calling me Princess.

Even though I was lost in my story—right at the part when the scarred knight throws his wife over his shoulder after she shouts that she doesn’t love him anymore—I still heard the way he said it.

Princess.

I’ve been called it before. Quite a bit, actually, because of my family’s wealth. But it’s never sounded like that. Like… a compliment.

Completely composed—on the outside—I look up at the man who’s still reading my book. “Would you care to switch?”

Whiskey-colored eyes glance at me over the top of the device, then he goes back to reading. “In a minute.”

In. A minute.

“I’m sorry, what?” I can’t have heard him correctly.

“Shush.” The man shushes me.

He, honest to god, shushes me.

My mouth drops open.

His eyes dart to my lips, then back to the story.

I watch as the edge of his mouth pulls up.

This man thinks he’s being cute.

But when I take in the rest of his face, it’s clear this man is beyond cute.

His facial hair is too thick to be cute. His cocky little smirk is too confident to be cute.

His hair, the same rich brown as his beard, is too sweat soaked to be cute.

Top to bottom, this specimen is too fucking manly to be cute.

I shift to try to stand, but he’s in the way, so I can’t.

The man, still reading, makes a noise in his throat and raises his brows.

Okay, that’s enough.

But before I can reach up and take my book from him, he turns and sits on the bench next to me. So close that our arms touch.

His skin is warm against mine. And I should pull away.

I should, but I can’t. Because having this stranger so close, this close, is doing something to my senses.

My core clenches as a wave of desire rolls through me. And the hummingbird that resides inside my ribcage flutters to life. Shaken out of stasis by this man.

The message is clear. I need to get away before my body betrays me further.

I reach for my book.

But as I reach, he shifts the device to his far hand and stretches his arm out, holding the book out of my reach.

I turn toward him, not caring that my knees bump into his thigh. “Are you serious?”

The man turns his head to face me, our noses only inches apart.

“This is very serious.” He shakes the device in his hand. “I need to find out what happens with Lord Kentigern and his lady wife.”

I narrow my eyes. “If you’re about to insult my book, I suggest you think twice.”

His mouth pulls into a crooked smile, exposing bright white teeth. “I would never. This”—he shakes the book again—“was my sex ed.”

I don’t drop my suspicious expression. “What does that mean?”

“Means that after my mom caught me, uh, expressing myself, she left a pile of her romance books on my bed and told me to read them. Said if I was old enough to buy porno magazines off the neighbor kid, who stole them from his dad, then I was old enough to read from the other perspective.”

I huff out a laugh, surprised at his story and the fact that he shared it. “She had a point.”

“That she did. And I’m nothing if not a good student.” The man winks.

Winks.

I roll my eyes, hoping my cheeks aren’t blushing, even though I know they are.

“Sounds like you have plenty of your own books to read, then. So…” I hold my hand out.

The man pulls his arm back in, but instead of handing me my book, he taps the screen.

“How do I find the title on this thing?” He taps the screen again, turning the page instead of finding what he wants.

“Just give it here.” I reach for it.

He twists away from me, causing me to bump into his shoulder.

I stop reaching and glare at the side of his face. “I’m going to ask this again. Are you serious?”

“Princess, you can keep asking, but it’s not changing the answer.” He swipes his finger on the screen, bringing up the settings menu. “I’m going to need the title.” He taps the screen. “Why isn’t this working?”

I grip the back of his sweaty shirt and tug.

He’s obviously strong enough to resist, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets me pull him until he’s leaning back, then I stretch across and snatch my device from his hand.

“Aww, Green Eyes, don’t be like that.” He looks up at me, his gaze glinting with humor.

Green Eyes. I really need to get away from this man.

“It was just starting to get good.” He grins.

I let go of his shirt, and as I stand, I wipe his sweat off my palm by smoothing my hand down my cover-up. “If you’re clever, you’ll be able to figure it out.”

I keep my back to him as I pick my bag up off the floor.

“And how about your name?” he asks with a smile in his voice.

With my bag hooked on my elbow, I glance at him one last time over my shoulder. “Princess is good.”