“I want to speak to you,” the familiar, lovely voice said from behind. “I have questions.”
Rohan considered how to handle this situation. Maybe he should just scare the prince away, act like the ill-mannered, crass brute His Highness expected him to be.
Rohan put the hose away and walked out of the stall, past the prince, without saying anything.
“Did you hear me?” the prince said, his aura darkening with anger as he followed him.
“Yes.” Rohan strode away.
“You will stop when I’m speaking to you,” Jamil said, sounding absolutely incensed as he grabbed Rohan’s arm and spun him around.
Rohan slammed his shields up, higher than they had ever been, but it helped very little. He still felt that sickening lurch the moment his gaze locked with those green eyes framed by ridiculously long, dark eyelashes.
But it wasn’t Prince Jamil’s beauty that captured his attention. Rohan had met and slept with a lot of gorgeous people in his life. He was indifferent toward men anyway, no matter how handsome they were. If it weren’t for the way their telepathy reached for each other, eager and hungry, Rohan wouldn’t have spared Prince Jamil a second glance, though it wasn’t for his lack of beauty.
Objectively, Prince Jamil’ngh’veighli was a handsome man. People said he was the most handsome man on Calluvia, and Rohan had to agree that they could be right. The prince had exquisite facial features, and his mouth… the bow of his mouth was kind of obscene, his lips red against his milk-white skin. His shoulder-length hair was shiny and wavy. Prince Jamil looked like he stepped out of a fairy tale.
It still wasn’t his looks that made Rohan’s heart beat faster. It was something invisible to the eye, a quality that made his hindbrain go a little crazy and his fingers itch with the urge to touch. The urge wasn’t sexual. Rohan was heterosexual, which was pretty rare in modern times, considering that eighty percent of the population of the Union of Planets identified as bisexual. His heterosexuality had nothing to do with him being old-fashioned and everything to do with not being into flat chests and cock.
That was why the overwhelming urge to touch this prince was so damn disconcerting. With women, a good Fit usually just meant great sex with a mentally compatible person. Here the urge to touch was just fucking weird, because his cock didn’t harden, but he still wanted to paw all over the prince’s skin and then merge their minds together until he couldn’t tell where his mind ended and Prince Jamil’s began.
Rohan closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. Control. He was in control. He wasn’t an animal. He was a grown man. He wasn’t going to let his instincts rule him. He was the one in control, his instincts be damned.
He opened his eyes and said, “What do you want? Make it quick, Highness.” He intentionally kept his tone rude and disrespectful, wanting to infuriate the prince into leaving and never coming back.
But Prince Jamil raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest, and met his gaze steadily. The only thing that betrayed that he wasn’t as composed as he seemed was the flush on his pale cheeks—and maybe the slight tremor to his lips as he spoke. “I want to know the situation on Tai’Lehr.”
Rohan struggled to keep his face blank. This wasn’t the question he’d expected.
He shrugged. “What do you mean? If you’re asking about politics or economy, a zywern trainer would hardly know much.”
“Is there unrest?”
Rohan stared at him. He was tempted to delve into the prince’s mind to find out why he was asking such questions, but he knew better than to let their minds touch. He was barely controlling himself as it was. Any telepathic contact would be just plain stupid.
“Unrest?” he said neutrally. “As far as I know, no. Why the sudden interest?”
“I’m the one asking questions here.”
“We live in modern times, Highness. You can no longer behead your subjects for daring to ask uncomfortable questions.”
“You—you—” Jamil spluttered like a little boy, which was kind of amusing, considering he had the reputation of an unflappable, highly rational man. Finally, he seemed to get control of himself and said stiffly, “There’s nothing strange about my interest. Tai’Lehr is a colony of the Third Grand Clan—my clan, if you haven’t noticed. It’s only natural that I would be interested in the situation on Tai’Lehr.”
“There’s no situation on Tai’Lehr,” Rohan said. “And we pay the annual tribute to Calluvia on time, so no, you actually have no reason to take interest in Tai’Lehr.”
The prince stepped forward, his green eyes narrowed. “You just said that a zywern trainer would know nothing about the colony’s politics and economy.”
Rohan swore on the inside. He blamed his mistake on the fact that he had been too distracted by the annoyingly enticing pull of the prince’s mind—he’d never wanted to get inside of someone so damn badly, including the times his cock was actually interested in the proceedings.