Penelope & Prince Charming Read Online Free PDF Page A

stopped. It froze into this moment when she looked at him and thought that maybe, just maybe, fairy tales could come true.
    He kissed her brow, smoothed her eyelids with his lips. He kissed her mouth, coaxing it open, and to her shock, dipped his tongue inside. She tasted the bite of ale, and hot spice.
    He tugged her lower lip between his teeth and gently sucked. Her knees would have buckled, but he slid his arm across her back and held her steady.
    He drew away, his face an inch from hers. “Why did I meet you today? If I had waited a little longer in the tavern, we would not have passed. This is—”
    He threaded his fingers through her hair, stroked his thumb over her temple. His eyes were downcast, brows drawn.
    “Madness,” he finished.
    Madness, yes. It had to be. She was mad, and he was. Maybe the horse, who’d moved away to crop grass, was mad, too.
    “Have you stopped time?” she asked him.
    A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Do you want me to?”
    “Yes.”
    She put her hands on his shoulders. His body was warm and hummed with strength.
    “I will for you, if you want,” he promised.
    He kissed her again, his tongue sliding across her lips. He leaned and kissed her throat, and tugged at the top hook of her bodice with his teeth.
    She tried to say “Damien,” but nothing came out. Her throat was parched, and she could not swallow. She felt white heat in the depth of her belly, and her female juices wetting her legs.
    She wanted to pull off her bodice and lie down for him, as he asked her to, while he sank to the ground beside her and covered her breast with his mouth. He’d suckle her, teeth scraping her aureole, while she’d rise to his touch.
    She’d never, ever had such naughty thoughts in her life. She’d never known what fun they were. She smiled, and he caught the smile on his own lips.
    Let this moment go on forever, she thought. No regrets, no remorse. Just this feeling of hot happiness in the middle of Holden’s meadow, in the arms of a man called Damien.
    She felt as though she belonged in his arms. Had always belonged, and would always. She wet her lips. “I like madness.”
    “Good.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, lips against lips, the moisture of hers letting his slide easily across her mouth.
    She was falling, down into the grass, where her vision would come true. He’d open her bodice and let his kisses fall on her bare flesh. She would not mind, no, not a bit. She’d thread her fingers under his long dark hair, and let him have anything he wanted…
    “Your Highness!”
    The cry echoed from one end of the meadow to the other.
    “Damn,” Damien said without moving. “Damn it all.”
    Time started again. The horse lifted his head, turning curiously to watch a small, dark-haired man lope toward them from the trees.
    Damien abruptly released her. Penelope drew in a long breath, like she’d not had air in several minutes.
    “Er,” she ventured. “Did he just say Your Highness?”
    Damien took a step away from her, one of the hardest steps he’d ever taken in his life. The world came hurtling back at him in the form of Sasha, who sprinted toward them, holding his sash high out of the tall, damp grass.
    His mission, the prophecy, Grand Duke Alexander, everything Damien had wanted to forget for a moment in this woman’s arms, rushed at him again.
    Let her go, his common sense told him. She is only one woman.
    His heart told him differently. She was delectable and sweet, and he’d never tasted anything like her. Her golden hair was like summer wheat, strands of brown and gold rippling round one another. Her eyes were jade, light and translucent, with flecks of gold swimming in them. The top hook of her bodice was undone, drawing his eyes and making his fingers itch.
    He could not have her, and he knew it. A dalliance, perhaps, but no more. He’d come here to find Lady Trask, to explain that she’d have to leave England and travel with him to Nvengaria to