The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,3
of me. The man is a fool, a drunk, and a chronic maker of poor choices, but damn…he can kiss.
“Sorry, Stefano,” Nick murmurs, pressing my face to his chest as he speaks over my head. “Something’s come up. Rain check on that chopper ride?”
“Of course, no problem,” Stefano says, seemingly with good humor. At least, he doesn’t sound angry. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Nickolas laughs. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”
“Not really. Not when properly motivated.” Stefano’s reply sends a shiver down my bare legs as Nick turns, tucking me against his side.
“Come on, then,” he says, “Medic tent for you, beautiful, and then we’ll see where the night takes us.”
I giggle in agreement, but as he weaves unsteadily toward the far side of the field, my heart is pounding.
Dammit.
Now what?
If I ditch him, he’ll head right back to Stefano and into Trouble with a capital T. But if we reach the well-lit medical tent, Nick will realize who I am and demand to know what the hell’s going on. There’s no way I can explain the accent when he knows damn well I’m not Romanian.
My thoughts race like a rat in a maze, but I can’t find a way out.
As we near the bouncing crowd, the music grows so loud I can barely hear myself think.
But I can hear Nick’s voice as he bends close to my ear and says, “What the hell are you doing, Alexandra? Nadia aborted your mission two hours ago.”
My eyes go wide, my pulse stuttering as the meaning of his words sinks in.
Nick knows who I am.
Nick knows I’m here on a mission.
And Nick knows Nadia is my handler.
Which means…
Oh, hell no…
It can’t be. It just can’t.
Not only is Nick a member of Union Ten, but he…
He outranks me?!
My lip curls as I lift my face to his. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“No, I’m not,” he says, smiling down at me like we’re out on a first date as he shouts over the wailing guitar. “You didn’t get the message, I take it?”
“No,” I snarl. “I didn’t.”
He nods. “Cell service is shite up here in the mountains. We’ll explain the mix-up to Nadia and try again soon. I’m certain it will all work out in the end.”
He’s certain it will all work out in the end? What the actual fuck? No spy out of his or her first year of fieldwork believes that kind of Pollyanna bullshit.
But before I can ask him if he’s serious, he adds, “And in the meantime, we’ll get to know each other better. I was hoping we’d get the chance to chat before I take over for Allan in the spring.”
Take over for Allan?
“You’re the new northeast director?”
Nick arches a wry brow. “You say that like I’ve confessed to torturing baby bunnies in my spare time.”
“More like full time,” I mutter.
“What’s that?” he asks.
Forcing a smile, I add in a louder voice, “I said congratulations. I’ve been wondering who got the job. As I’m sure you know, I applied for the position.”
And I should have been offered the position.
I have no idea what Nick’s story is, but there’s no doubt I’m more qualified. Prince Charming might have as many operations under his belt—might, though I doubt it—but I’m a year older. Even if he entered junior agent training at thirteen the way I did, I turned thirteen first, dammit.
“Heads up.” He nods to the crowd ahead of us. “Take a sharp left by the girl with the glow sticks around her neck. There’s a car waiting for us behind the stage. Well, waiting for me, but you can tag along if you’d like. Faster and less urine-scented than the bus.”
“Lovely, thank you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Hey there, don’t stew,” Nick says, clearly reading my mood. “You’ll get another shot at this one. Stefano didn’t see your face. And you did the right thing back there, trying to save a fool in trouble. It was very sweet.”
“It was protocol.”
“Still sweet.” His arm tightens around my shoulders. “And that kiss? Totally worth the ginger ale to the crotch.”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
He laughs. “Hey, you’re the one who kissed me. I’m just saying I didn’t mind it. That’s all.”
“Well, I minded. And I still do. I don’t want to talk about it again. Ever. Do you understand?”
He glances down, his twin dimples popping as he says, “That good, huh? It’s okay. You can admit it. I know I’m an excellent kisser. Extraordinary, actually. Or so I’ve been told.”