Royal Date by Sariah Wilson

it was obvious she wasn’t there. Had she gone off with her duke somewhere?
    Closing her door, I headed back to my own room. I didn’t want to be my only company right now, but I didn’t have much of a choice.
    I changed into my pajamas and absentmindedly brushed my teeth. I climbed into the world’s best bed and turned on my side, curled up in a fetal position.
    Now I had to face what I had done. I had kissed Nico. Kissed him. Really, really kissed him. A flush started on my cheeks, filled my whole face, and worked its way down my neck. I had done nothing the last ten years but avoid this very situation. And I had walked into it willingly. It was so unlike me that it almost felt like it had happened to someone else.
    But I only had to close my eyes to be back in that garden with him, kissing him and liking it. The memory of his lips against mine was intense.
    I should have freaked out at the time, but there was something about it that made me unafraid. Something about him. Curiosity? Attraction? I had no explanation for it, and that bothered me more than anything. I had been so careful to always keep to myself, so afraid that any step I might take would lead me right back to that same situation I’d barely escaped the first time.
    Nothing had happened tonight that made me think of that other night.
    It didn’t mean that I didn’t feel a full-blown panic right now, though. The feelings threatened to overwhelm and drown me. He would want it to happen again. I would probably want it to happen again. And then things would quickly go further and I couldn’t do that. I tried to slow down my breathing, to remain calm.
    I reminded myself that this had a shelf life. I didn’t need to panic. I would go back to Colorado. He would . . . do whatever it was that princes did. There was no point to any of this.
    I wasn’t sure I could protect my heart from him. I would have to put down my foot and draw a line. These were supposed to be fake dates, not real ones. I couldn’t risk my sanity, the peace and balance I had worked so hard to achieve.
    I turned over and felt something soft against my temple. I reached up to pull the moonflower out of my hair. It was already wilting. I put it on my nightstand.
    There would be no more kissing. I didn’t know how that conversation was going to happen, but I would not be kissing Nico . . . whatever his last name was . . . ever again.

    I spent a good two hours arguing with myself that I wasn’t hungry. I tried every distraction I could think of. I spent twenty minutes just brushing my hair. I watched television in a language I didn’t understand. I wished I had a good book. But I eventually lost the fight.
    Lemon still hadn’t returned, and I was in desperate need of a snack. So I grabbed some socks, threw a sweater on, and headed for the family kitchen Nico had shown me earlier.
    The kitchen was all stainless steel and glossy countertops, with under-cabinet lighting that ran the length of the back wall. I didn’t switch on any of the overhead lights. I already felt guilty enough opening cabinets and peering at their contents without a bright glare to expose me.
    At first I couldn’t find the refrigerator, until I realized it was built in to match the rest of the cabinetry. And true to Nico’s promise, everything was well stocked. They had nearly every imaginable variety of ice cream in the freezer. I grabbed a pint of chocolate and searched the drawers until I found a spoon.
    I jumped up on the counter on the island in the middle of the room and opened up the container. The first bite was divine. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of contentment. This was exactly what I needed.
    I heard a sound to my right, and turned to face the darkness. It looked like there was a table there, but I couldn’t make anything out.
    My heart froze. “Who’s there?”
    I heard a chair scraping across the tile floor. “ Sono io .”
    Not helpful. “I don’t know what that