“Good evening.”
“Hi.” Her voice was soft, filling the silent recesses of the backseat.
Fuck. Her lips were even more edible up close. Her cheeks were bright. I knew she wasn’t drunk. It was against the rules. She was either nervous or excited. I considered there was nothing wrong with a combination.
The car lurched forward.
“Where are we going?” she eked. She watched the club fade out of view as Georgan drove toward the coastal highway.
“Does our night extend by the minutes you kept me waiting?”
“Excuse me?” I watched the curve of her neck as she swallowed.
“You’re American?” I questioned. Most of them were. They kept the pipeline running.
“Is that a problem?”
The car careened as we exited, tipping her off balance. She leaned into me, her hair brushing against my shoulder as she pushed away to right her body.
“A defensive American.” I rubbed my chin with my thumb. “Tell me your name.”
“Seven-seven-seven,” she whispered. She didn’t make eye contact. “But Sapphire is the other one they gave me.”
“Your real name,” I corrected her.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that.”
I reached for a bottle of water in the bar and grabbed a second one for her. I twisted the lid from the top and put it in her hands.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked blankly.
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She nodded. “I was told you’re one of the royals.” She took a sip.
“One of the royals?” I scoffed. “I must be losing my reputation around here.” I turned to face her squarely. “I’m the royal.”
She fidgeted with the bottle cap. “I know. I was just trying not to make a big deal about it. Maybe I’m not supposed to acknowledge you’re the king of Galona. I-I’m not sure.”
“At least you know my title. You know I have certain exemptions. One of those specifically deals with the name clause. What’s your name?”
“Molly. Molly Washington.”
I chuckled. “It doesn’t get any more American than that.”
Her long lashes lowered a second time. The gesture did something to me. I raised her chin until she lifted her eyes to mine. Her gaze cut right through me. I knew now why they called her Sapphire.
“Tell me. Are you scared of me Molly Washington?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“And why not?” My hand circled over the creaminess of her skin, my fingers pressing into the softness of the back of her neck.
Her chest rose, sending her breasts forward. God, they were unbelievable. Ripe and soft. My eyes trailed upward again, making heated eye contact.
We drove farther up the hillside. The lights of Freychon blanketed the ground below us.
The shield between our seat and Georgan gave me absolute privacy. My mouth grew hungry for her. Her eyes darted back and forth.