Free How to Propose to a Prince by Kathryn Caskie Page B

had to double step to keep up during a stroll. After a few minutes of this trotting, they turned onto the familiar grand stretch of Pall Mall. A stitch of exertion pained Elizabeth’s left side, and to her embarrassment she was compelled to stop walking until it passed.
    “I apologize,” he told her. “I have been in the primary company of soldiers for so long that I—”
    Elizabeth waved off his comment. “No need to apologize. Truly.” It was then that she noted the long row of carriages lining Pall Mall. Only three back was a carriage emblazoned with the Upperton coat of arms. Oh, thank heaven. “Would you like…to rest for a moment or two? My sponsor’s carriage is just there.” She looked up without bothering to conceal the pleading in her eyes. She could not race along the street just now.
    He chuckled at that. “Very well. It will allow you some time to catch the wind in your sails again. But I warn you again, no attacks.” With utmost grace, almost as though it were a dance step, he drew her close and turned her in the direction of the carriage.
    He did not free her immediately. Instead, they stood clinging together. She did not wish for him to release her and so she held onto him and looked up into his eyes.
    She felt the heaviness of his breathing as his lungs expanded and contracted, pressing his hard, muscled chest against her. Her breathing quickened, too. She lowered her gaze to his mouth, and without thinking of it, ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. It was too late when she realized how obvious her romantic wishes had become to him.
    His expression suddenly became very serious. She heard his breath hitch a scant second before he cupped his hand behind her head and drew her mouth to his.
    His warm lips tasted of champagne as they moved gently over hers. Her arms lifted up and, of their own volition, slid up under his arms to his back and pulled him tighter into her embrace.
    His mouth teased her, his tongue, hot andslick, prodded her lips apart and then slid inside, where it mingled in an ancient dance with her own.
    As he groaned with pleasure, a sound of longing welled up from deep within him. She felt that flutter in her middle…but this time lower as well.
    Just then there was the sound of gunfire, followed by a hiss beside her head. Abruptly, her back slammed down upon the pavers. The prince’s heavy form fell atop of her.
    He’s been shot . Her head was pounding as she struggled to wriggle out from beneath him. Oh my God. Oh my God . He can’t be dead, he can’t. She slapped her hand to the cool pavers and tried to push up, but his weight made it impossible for her to move.
    Another shot rang out, puncturing the carriage beside them. She whimpered with fear.
    “Don’t move. Stay where you are, Miss Royle. I will protect you.” His breath was hot in her ear.
    “Are you hurt?” she whispered.
    “No. Remain still.” He rose up from her, then bent into a crouch. Warily, he surveyed the street, then came to his feet.
    Elizabeth remained on her back, as he had ordered, until she saw movement in an upperwindow of a shop twenty paces down Pall Mall.
    “In the window! He’s there!” She rolled to her feet and flung open Lady Upperton’s carriage door.
    She caught the prince’s wrist and yanked, miraculously knocking him from his footing and into the open cab. She pushed him down onto the floor of the cab just as a third shot rent the still night air. This time her prince didn’t move.
    The thud of footfalls on the pavers drew Elizabeth’s attention, and when she glanced up, she saw a dark figure running toward her. Her heart was pounding in time with the throbbing in her head. Oh, God!
    Without delay, she heaved the prince farther inside, and was at work bending his long legs to force them into the cab when Lady Upperton’s longtime driver, Edmund, raced up to the carriage and appeared next to her. “Oh, thank goodness it is you,” she gasped.
    “Bloody hell, Miss