What The Prince Wants. Jules Bennett
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had just dissolved.
Iris was his main concern now. He needed to relax, work on being a regular father giving his daughter the best life possible.
And to decide whether to renounce his title. The pressure of knowing that their wayward cousin, who didn’t deserve the title, would have it if something happened to Stefan was overwhelming. He hated being in this position, but ignoring it wouldn’t make the situation go away.
“Colin?”
Nodding, he let out a sigh. “I’m fine,” he assured her, hating when her hand slid away. Those gentle fingertips trailed down his arm before leaving him wanting more than just an innocent touch. “Anything you want to ask about the equipment while I’m here with you?”
Her eyes roamed over the apparatus in the workout room. An image of her sweating with him flashed through his mind which led to other images of them sweating and he cursed himself. If he didn’t get control over his libido he’d have more trouble on his hands than he could possibly handle.
“If I wanted to start working out, what would you recommend? The treadmill? I’m pretty out of shape.”
Out of shape? Everything about her shape screamed perfection. He never was one of those guys who needed his woman to be supermodel thin. He preferred having plenty of curves to explore.
When her eyes came back to his, he fought the urge to pull her inside and get that sweat going. He’d bet his royal, jeweled crown she would look even sexier all flushed, with a sheen of perspiration across her body.
“Do you really want to work out?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m just offering the room to you.”
Darcy shrugged. “I could stand to lose a few pounds.”
Anger simmered beneath the surface. “Who told you that?”
Darcy entered the room and checked out the elliptical, the treadmill, the free weights. “He’s no longer in the picture, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that I’ve let myself go, and with all of this at my fingertips I don’t see why I shouldn’t take advantage of it while I’m here.”
Colin stepped in and came up behind her, close enough to touch. He clenched his hands at his sides. “If you want to feel better about yourself, that’s one thing. If you’re doing this because some bastard told you you’re overweight, then I have a problem.”
Her shoulders stiffened as she turned. The second she realized how close they were, her eyes widened, but she didn’t step back. Their bodies were only a breath apart and with each inhale, the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. He was playing with fire and damn if he could stop himself. He’d always lived for the adrenaline rush and Darcy got his blood pumping.
Being this close he noticed a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. There was so much innocence in this woman, yet in some ways she seemed too tough to be innocent. She’d gone through hard times, according to her. Even if she hadn’t said so, he could tell by the way she was headstrong, determined and focused. How the hell could he not find that completely sexy?
“My weight may have been mentioned in my last relationship,” she told him, keeping her eyes on his. “But he’s history and I want to do this for me. Will you help me or not?”
Would he help her? Close quarters, alone without Iris as a buffer and having Darcy’s body as his sole focus for hours? He may not want this attraction, but it was there nonetheless and only an idiot would turn her down.
“I’ll help you,” he told her. “We’ll start tonight after Iris goes to bed. That work for you?”
Her smile spread across her face, lighting up those expressive eyes. “It works if you take it easy on me.”
Oiktirmon. Mercy.
“Oh, I plan on giving you just what you need.”
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