“Not in a few hours. You can do whatever you like until then, but I suggest that you prioritize breakfast.” Luke held the half-finished bread between his thumb and middle finger just long enough for him to finish the statement. Afterwards, it went straight back in between his lips, gradually being consumed bite after bite. Her voice had briefly caught his attention and he turned away from the tablet long enough to register how light the material of her night gown was. Though they may have spent an afternoon together wearing significantly less clothing, being alone with a with her inside a dimly lit room and under the same covers on the same bed was different. He had to force himself to look away and focus on something other than her.

A letter to Ms. Viscomi would be appropriate. He would ask her to revise the itinerary to include a short visit to Rhiane’s hometown, but the bread was finished so he fished for a pastry next. The sweetness filled his mouth as did her musings. Rhiane might not be talking to him and he might be but a convenient audience of the thoughts from her head, but her words were consciously considered and processed by his brain. He took another bite of the flaky crust. The third one finally reached the inner filling, which was equal parts sweet and sour. He thought she was talking about Tobias not saying no to her, wondered if she was absently comparing Luke to his cousin. If Tobias doesn’t say no, she may be saying that Luke doesn’t say yes. They argued a lot because their perspectives in life were very different. It was frustrating yet it was interesting to have somebody challenge his personal beliefs. 

It was all fine. She was entitled to her judgment between the two men, but when she finished her statement, the crown prince might have forgotten how to properly chew and swallow food. The prince coughed, his knee jerked and bumped on the tray, knocking over a pastry or two while setting the egg in motion. “You – Him?” He gasped in between coughs. She was going to ask him to help her wash her hair? Rhiane was practically wearing nothing. In his imagination, he saw the scene unfolding – how she would sit on the edge of the tub wearing just her underwear if she was feeling modest, with Tobias positioned behind her holding the shower head, he was, of course, naked from the waste up, while holding a bottle shampoo. 

Luke pounded his chest lightly as he willed the food to go down without fighting. Then when it seemed not to work, he reached to the cart for the glass of juice. Carefully, the liquid was poured down his throat. He plucked the pastry and the egg, which was overthrown from the tray, off the bed. His coughing had calmed down and though his throat felt raw, it was much better. A sideways glare was cast towards Rhiane, a glare that judged the woman’s better judgment. Using just one hand, he lifted the tray off the bed and the legs automatically folded underneath the metal sheet. He balanced it on the corner of the bedside table.

“Are you serious, woman?” His voice sounded raw and his eyes incredibly blue. Whatever sharp or sarcastic reply she might have constructed in her mind was hindered by next move. Luke’s motion was fluid. One moment he was sitting beside him, then the next he was straddling her with one hand on the headboard and his face close enough to stare into her eyes. “Of course, he will not say no. No man in his right mind will say no to a woman as yourself,” he blurted out in quick succession of words. Unless Luke was horribly busy, he would have a hard time saying no to such a tempting proposition. He was a single man and she was a truly attractive woman. A woman who was not shy to take off her clothes in front of him and then take a dip on a cold autumn afternoon the first day they met. It was not farfetched that she would really ask his cousin to wash her hair. But the thought irritated him. 

Luke searched her eyes for fear, for the will to run away from him again like he did that night of the interview, but that morning seemed different. He swallowed hard. “Don’t be naïve.” A slow but cruel smile curved his lips. “No man without malicious intentions is that accommodating to a woman,” he finished. And perhaps to emphasize how easy it was to exploit her trusting nature, the prince leaned on her and gently placed a kiss on her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck. His free hand caressed the smooth skin of her good arm until it rested on her shoulder, teasing the strap of her nightgown. He held her all night with just that flimsy material standing in the way. “Ask me to stop, I dare you,” he whispered, his breath teasing the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.  

The prince was too busy teaching her a lesson that he barely noticed the soft knock at the door. Without an acknowledgment from inside, Tobias stepped in. The second step faltered. He stood frozen for what felt like eternity rolled up in a fraction of a second. He considered himself immune to emotions such as love and jealousy, but finding his royal cousin and his fiancee as such woke up a part of him that he would rather seal beneath the deepest recesses of his mind. It invoked irrational anger that made him want to throw the hot beverage at the queen’s son’s blonde head. 

The guard’s voice was louder and clearer than necessary, when he announced, “Your coffee, Prince Luke.” 

The sound of cousin’s voice made Luke aware that he did not lock the door. How unfortunate. Smiling to himself, Luke paused in what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at his cousin who stiffly stood at the threshold. “You can have it,” he said lazily, then turned a meaningful look to Rhiane. “Lock the door when you leave.” Was his final instruction.