Free To Charm a Prince by Patricia Grasso

prince was becoming entirely too familiar with his words and her person. She wasn’t going to tumble into bed with a man who offered no future.
    Rudolf gave her an amused smile as if he knew her thoughts. “You must say utstan. ”
    Samantha arched an ebony brow at him. She wasn’t going to repeat any words she didn’t know.
    “ Utstan means take your hands off me.”
    Samantha laughed.
    Wearing an expression of regret, Rudolf touched her cheek. “ Ya tibya lyublyoo .”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Teach me how to pick a pocket,” he said, changing the subject abruptly.
    Samantha reached for his hand and lifted it up for her perusal. She studied his long, tapered fingers and pressed the palm of her hand against his as if to measure the difference in size. “Your hands are too big.”
    “But how would I do it if I wanted?” he asked.
    Samantha gave him a flirtatious smile as an imp entered her soul. She entwined her left arm around his neck and pulled his face closer.
    “Successful pickpocketing takes years of practice,” she said, her lips a hairsbreadth from his. “A distraction diverts the pigeon’s attention while you quickly search his pockets.”
    With that, Samantha pressed her lips against his. She felt his arms go around her and savored the feeling of his mouth covering hers. His lips were warm, and when he caressed the crease of her mouth with his tongue, she parted her lips for him, allowing him entrance to the sweet softness beyond. His lingering kiss melted into another. And then another.
    Summoning all her inner strength, Samantha pushed him away and dangled his gold watch in front of his face, asking, “Do you see what I mean?”
    Rudolf shouted with laughter. “Do you usually go around London kissing men?”
    “Certainly not,” Samantha said primly. “Because of my limp, I usually trip and bump into a gentleman who, naturally, reaches out to keep me from falling.”
    With one long finger, Rudolf tapped the tip of her nose playfully, asking, “Where did you learn to charm a prince?”
    Samantha blushed. “Perhaps some people are easily charmed, Your Highness.”
    They passed through Derbyshire, a midland county of contrasts from low land to high peaks. Samantha yearned to stop in the market town of Derby, known for its silk and lace. She had only the one gown and couldn’t wear it for the rest of her life.
    Leaving Derby behind without stopping, they rode into Yorkshire. With an austere beauty, the landscape wore many faces from stone-fenced farms to windswept moors to deep, secluded valleys. Nine miles west of Leeds lay Bradford in a small valley on the eastern slopes of the Pennines.
    Passing the Church of St. Peter, Karl halted the coach in front of the Boar’s Head Inn. Prince Rudolf climbed out first and then led her into the inn’s common room. Within minutes, Samantha and the prince sat close to the hearth’s warmth and ate roasted beef, Yorkshire pudding, and horseradish sauce.
    Samantha saw Karl enter the common room and scan the tables. Seeing them near the hearth, the prince’s man approached their table.
    “Your Highness, we will make Carlisle by early afternoon tomorrow,” Karl said. “Dumfries is a half day’s ride from there.”
    Prince Rudolf nodded. “Take your supper now.”
    “Would you care to join us?” Samantha asked.
    “No, thank you, my lady.” Karl looked scandalized by her suggestion.
    “He needs to feed his sturgeon,” the prince said.
    “Where do you keep this sturgeon?” Samantha asked.
    Karl looked at the prince and then, wearing a serious expression, answered, “I keep it in a warm place.” At that the prince’s man turned away and crossed the common room to a table near the bar.
    Samantha flicked a glance at the prince, who was grinning. “What do you find so amusing?”
    Rudolf leaned close. “You are the most charming woman I have ever met, like a breath of fresh air in a smoky room.”
    “Thank you, I think,” she said, giving