Penelope & Prince Charming by Jennifer Ashley Page A

worse.
    His mouth was a smooth line, pale red-brown. Her gaze fixed to it, to the way the right corner moved upward first when he smiled. His chin was blue with unshaven whiskers. For some reason, she wanted to lick his skin, to feel if it would be like sandpaper to her tongue.
    “I know Nvengarian fairy tales,” he was saying. “I will tell them to you.”
    Her interest stirred, in spite of herself. “Will you?”
    “Yes.” He gave her a wicked look. “While I lie next to you in our bed.”
    The heady vision of him lounging languidly on her pillows, his eyes heavy with passion while he related stories in his velvet voice, made her dizzy.
    “Now you are trying to woo me with fairy tales.”
    “Why should I not?” He touched the tip of his tongue to her forefinger. “It is inevitable that we marry, Penelope. I say we do not fight it.”
    “You would marry me because an old prophecy says you must?”
    “I always do what I am told.”
    She drew a shaking breath. “You do not. You do precisely as you please. You let everyone believe they are doing as they wish, but you direct everything without saying a word.”
    “Perhaps.” He winked at her. “Do not tell on me.”
    When he did that, she could not help smiling in response. Drat him.
    He let her look into his eyes for a few seconds. Then his smile faded, and he fixed his gaze on her hand. “You see through me well, Penelope. But do not try to see too much. You will not like what you find.”
    The glance he flashed at her was dark. It puzzled her.
    She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but in that moment, Meagan appeared on the walk and called out to them.
    “Are you finished kissing yet? I vow, I was hiding behind that tree for the longest time.”
    Penelope’s face went hot. “Meagan, you ought to have announced yourself.”
    “I did announce myself,” Meagan said as she stepped into the folly. “Just now. Did you say yes, Pen? You must have; you were certainly kissing him enough.”
    Damien grinned, the bleak look vanishing. “I am trying to convince her.”
    “You will,” Meagan said with confidence. She flopped to the floor of the folly, her skirt rucking up her slender legs. “My best friend in the whole world is marrying a prince. I shall swoon. Someone fan me.”
    Damien obligingly waved his hand in front of Meagan’s face. She giggled.
    “Get up, you ninny,” Penelope said, exasperated.
    “A prince. Just fancy. Do they have many dukes in Nvengaria, Prince Damien? Could you make one marry me?”
    “The dukes in Nvengaria are evil men,” Damien said. “I will find you someone ten times better.”
    Meagan raised up on her elbows. “Ten times better than a duke? Oh, I’d like that.”
    Damien spoke in a teasing voice, but Penelope sensed he was not joking. Again she caught a flash of darkness in his eyes before he hid it.
    “You must marry him, Penny,” Meagan insisted, “so that I might have a man better than a duke. You would not deprive your soon-to-be stepsister, would you?”
    Damien laced his fingers through Penelope’s. The gesture was intimate and started the fluttering again.
    “You see?” he said. “Your friend is on my side.”
    Penelope tried to look severe. “Her head is easily turned by handsome gentlemen.”
    “In tight trousers,” Meagan finished.
    “Ah,” Damien said to Meagan, “Penelope believes I am handsome. That is a step.”
    “She likes kissing you, too,” Meagan pointed out. “Two things in your favor.”
    Penelope jerked her hand from Damien’s. “Honestly, the pair of you.”
    “Poor Penelope has been burned by love,” Meagan said. “Twice. You must show her that true love is worth waiting for, Prince Damien.”
    “Excellently said,” Damien agreed.
    Penelope scrambled to her feet. Damien and Meagan looked up at her, not very alarmed. “I have not said I would marry him. And I will thank you, Meagan, to not takes sides against me. You are my friend.”
    Meagan remained, irritatingly,