The Prince by Tiffany Reisz Page B

the thought you were within a hundred yards of me…no army in this world or the next could have stopped me from getting to you.”
    She met his eyes and saw the surprise in them. The surprise quickly changed to something else.
    Wesley took a step forward. Then another. Nora didn’t make him take the third step. She stood and reached out for him and was in his arms once again. But this time no one stopped them when his lips crashed down onto hers. He tasted like summer and his touch burned her body like the sun.
    His tongue sought hers with such tentativeness she nearly giggled. Poor kid. He had no idea how much he could give her, how much she would take from him. Digging her hands into his too-long hair, she pulled them even closer together, sighed into his mouth and rejoiced silently when Wesley took the hint. His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom gently. The intimacy of his touch resonated deep within her. Some part of her had missed this…whatever it was, this tenuousness in him, this respect she felt in his hands, on his lips. He was careful with her. That was it. He touched her as if he worried he’d break her.
    She’d never been with a man who hadn’t wanted to break or be broken by her.
    This would take some getting used to.
    “You’re so beautiful,” Wesley whispered in her ear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the second we broke up.”
    He wove his hands into her hair and held her to his chest.
    Okay, she was already used to this.
    “I missed you, too. I know you might not believe that, but I missed you every damn day. I…” Nora held on to Wesley as if her life depended on it, and in that moment she thought it might. “I love Søren. I won’t lie to you. You don’t get what we have, and that’s fine. Very few people do. But when I was with you...Wesley, I liked who I was when I was with you. You make me a different person, a better person. And then you were gone and that Nora was gone, too. I missed you, yes. So fucking much. But I missed who I was with you just as much.”
    Wesley kissed the top of her head. Taking her by the shoulders, he stared down at her.
    “There’s only one Nora Sutherlin—the smart, funny, sweet, silly running-around-in-penguin-pajamas Nora Sutherlin who cares about writing and me and getting in two naps a day. The Nora you were with me was the real Nora, is the real Nora. Not the sadist Nora. Not the infamous Nora. Just…my Nora. If I don’t do anything else this week, I will convince you of that.”
    “Good luck.” She smiled at him through tears. “That’s going to take a lot of convincing.”
    “Then I better start right now.”
    “It’s kind of late. Bedtime, kiddo.”
    Wesley cupped the side of her face and brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb.
    “You’re right. It is late.” His hand moved from her face to her neck and down to her waist. His fingers hesitated only a moment before digging into the fabric of her T-shirt and starting to pull it up. “Let’s go to bed.”
    Nora inhaled in shock and almost coughed. “Really?”
    Wesley nodded and grinned.
    “Really. Seriously. And I need you to believe that, ’cause I’m not going to be able to get this off of you without a little cooperation on your part.”
    “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Nora lifted her arms and let Wesley pull her shirt off. She stood in front of him in the living room in her jeans and a black bra. She felt grimy from driving, exhausted, sore…and so turned on she could scarcely see straight. Reaching up, she unbuttoned the top button on Wesley’s wrinkled French-blue oxford shirt. “You know, I’ve always loved this color on you. Don’t know if I ever told you that.”
    “You did once,” he said, running his hands up and down her arms. His fingertips on her suddenly bare skin sent shivers through her entire body. “Two years ago. That’s why I wore it.”
    “You bought a French-blue shirt just to wear for me? Not even knowing if you’d see me