“Ana,” the Prince began, sharp enough to draw blood.
His eyes were no longer playful, they were twin pools of frozen blue, devoid of the teasing warmth he had used to lure me into his car.
“When we arrive in the Kingdom, my parents— the King and Queen— will be waiting for us. You will keep your rebellious temperament to yourself. I will not tolerate a display of disrespect in front of the King. Do you understand me?”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden, brutal change in tone. The whiplash was almost physical, a stinging slap to the face that left my skin crawling.
“Excuse me? You’re giving me orders now?”
“I am telling you how it is going to be,” he stated, leaning forward until he completely invaded my personal space.
The scent of him, usually so inviting, now felt like a
