The Maverick Prince Read Online Free Page B

had been flustered. He wasn’t just a prince, but a fine-looking, one-hundred-percent man . The kind with strong hands that could finesse their way over a woman’s body with a sweet tenderness that threatened to buckle her knees from just remembering. Had it only been a week since they’d made love in his mammoth jetted tub? God knows she ached as if she’d been without him for months.
    Even acknowledging it was wrong with her mind, her body still wanted him.

    Tony wanted her.
    In his arms.
    In his bed.
    And most of all, he wanted her back in his SUV, heading away from here. He needed to use any methods of persuasion possible and convince her to come to his house. Even if the press located his home address, they wouldn’t get past the gates and security. So how to convince Shannon? He stared down the short tiled hallway at her.
    Awareness flared in her eyes. The same slam of attraction he felt now and the first time he’d seen her five months ago when he’d stopped by after a call to play cards. Vernon had mentioned hiring a new waitress but Tony hadn’t thought much of it—until he met her.
    When Tony asked about her, the old guy said he didn’t know much about Shannon other than her crook of a husband had committed suicide rather than face a jury. Shannon and her boy had been left behind, flat broke. She’d worked at a small diner for a year and a half before that and Vernon had hired her on a hunch. Vernon and his softie heart.
    Tony stared at her now every bit as intently as he had that first time she’d brought him his order. Something about her blue-gray eyes reminded him of the ocean sky just before a storm. Tumultuous. Interesting.
    A challenge. He’d been without a challenge for too long. Building a business from nothing had kept him charged up for years. What next?
    Then he’d seen her.
    He’d spent his life smiling his way through problems and deals, and for the first time he’d found someone who saw past his bull. Was it the puzzle that tugged him? If so, he wasn’t any closer to solving the mystery of Shannon. Every day she confused him more, which made him want her more.
    Pushing away from the door, she strode toward him, efficiently, no hip swish, just even, efficient steps. Then she walked out of her shoes, swiping one foot behind her to kick them to rest against the wall. No shoes in the house. She’d told him that the two times he’d been allowed over her threshold for no more than fifteen minutes. Any liaisons between them had been at his bayside mansion or a suite near the restaurant. He didn’t really expect anything to happen here with her son around, even asleep.
    And given the look on her face, she was more likely to pitch him out. Better to circumvent the boot.
    “I’ll stay with your son while you pack.” He removed his shoes and stepped deeper into her place, not fancy, the sparse generic sort of a furnished space in browns and tan—except for the expensive burgundy leather sofa with a duct-taped X on the armrest.
    Her lips thinned. “About packing, we need to discuss that further.”
    “What’s to talk about?” He accepted their relationship was still on hold, but the current problems with his identity needed to be addressed. “Your porch will be full by morning.”
    “I’ll check into a hotel.”
    With the twenty dollars and fifty-two cents she had left in her wallet? He prayed she wasn’t foolish enough to use a credit card. Might as well phone in her location to the news stations.
    “We can talk about where you’ll stay after you pack.”
    “You sound like a broken record, Tony.”
    “ You ’re calling me stubborn?”
    Their standoff continued, neither of them touching, but he was all too aware of her scrubbed fresh scent. Shannon, the whole place, carried an air of some kind of floral cleaner. The aroma somehow calmed and stirred at the same time, calling to mind holding her after a mind-bending night of sex. She never stayed over until morning, but for an