Pleasuring the Prince Read Online Free PDF Page B

aloud.
    All six of her sisters sighed. One said, “How romantic. Like a fairy tale.”
    “Fairy tales do not come true.” Fancy rolled her eyes but, despite her skepticism, lifted the rose to inhale its sensual scent.
    The Russian was a romantic. Or a rake experienced in persuading women into his bed. Only an aristocrat could afford to purchase a rose at this time of year.
    Tha barest hint of a smile touched her lips. Romantic or rake? His behavior that evening would prove what he was.
    Fancy focused on her sisters’ smug smiles. She knew the best way to disperse them. “Which of you will hold my target?” The knocker banging on the door saved them from answering. “You need not look so relieved by the interruption.”
    Intending to send the uninvited intruder away, Fancy yanked the door open and gasped at the unexpected sight of the prince. Harsh daylight did not diminish his amazing good looks. If anything, daylight improved his perfection. She was definitely in trouble.
    Prince Stepan smiled. “You seem surprised to see me.”
    Being caught off guard made Fancy feel like a henwit. She hid her insecurity behind sarcasm. “Shouldn’t you be elsewhere creating all those outrageous compliments?”
    “Your beauty has stolen my creative concentration.” Stepan winked at her. “Will you invite me inside?”
    Fancy hesitated, her mind and her heart at war. Invite the devil into her home? Or send him away? Her heart won the battle, and she stepped aside to allow him entrance.
    “No, Puddles.”
    The mastiff leaped at the prince and pinned him against the door as it had done the previous evening. The dog bathed the royal cheeks in slobbering licks.
    “Sit.” Stepan looked at the singer. “You should emulate your pet’s welcome.”
    Fancy blushed, at an unusual loss for words. Her sisters’ giggles registered on her, making the blush deepen to a vibrant scarlet. She opened her mouth to send her sisters scurrying, but the prince was faster.
    “I wish to invite all of you on a Sunday picnic,” Stepan told them.
    Fancy tried to refuse. “We couldn’t poss—”
    “A Sunday picnic sounds wonderful,” Bliss exclaimed.
    Fancy sent her sisters a quelling look which, to her dismay, went ignored.
    “Is Puddles invited?” Blaze asked.
    Stepan patted the dog’s head. “Even Puddles will join us, and I will provide the food and transportation.”
    “I doubt we’ll fit in your coach,” Raven said.
    “A good point,” Fancy agreed. “And that is the reason we cannot—”
    “I own more than one coach.” Stepan interrupted her refusal. “If we wish, each of us may ride in our own coach. Even Puddles.”
    “I do believe two coaches will be sufficient, Your Highness.” Fancy felt trapped. Had her mother felt that way? At least, numbers provided safety, and the prince would play the gentleman with her sisters in attendance.
    “Take His Highness into the parlor,” Belle suggested.
    Fancy watched her sisters drifting away in the direction of the kitchen. She forced herself to smile at the prince and gestured toward the parlor. Mon Dieu , but she felt gauche. Except for Alex, she’d never actually been required to converse with a man. If she used her conversational topics today, what would they discuss at supper?
    “Please, be seated.”
    “Ladies first, mademoiselle.”
    Fancy sat on the sofa and realized her mistake when the prince sat beside her. She would remember that for future reference.
    “Have you seen The Times ?” Stepan asked.
    Fancy nodded.
    “Your success does not make you happy?”
    “I would enjoy my success,” she told him, “if that reporter would refrain from comments concerning my private life.”
    Stepan stretched his long legs out as if he owned the sofa. “Ah, the high price of fame.”
    Fancy lifted her gaze to his. “Are you laughing at me?”
    “I would never do that.”
    Her gaze slid from his dark eyes to his chiseled lips. “You cannot possibly enjoy the newspaper’s