Chapter 6: The Type You Beat With A Stick
Caius swung off his horse. He knew what he had seen—though she had tried to cover it, it was clear and new too. He had seen her the day before; such a mark wasn’t on her neck, he would have noticed. Her red hair was what he had seen first as he rode by. He passed the marketplace and was going around the town in hopes that he would find her, and here she was.
He wanted to go about this in a more gentle manner. He was going to try luring her with gifts and whatnots. Besides, he was the crown prince; he usually didn’t have to do much, but this was a village—he wasn’t sure how to woo a peasant.
However, the recent developments have changed things. Caius wasn’t angry. He found virgins a tad too much. Besides, he liked a woman who knew her way around the bedroom. Caius had to bite back the drool that almost escaped his lips.
"A petal," he said, stepping closer. "Wonderful! I like my women ready and experienced. Not having to break you in makes this easier for me. I could have fun much faster."
Rose has had her share of men coming after her, so she knew the look the prince gave her was nothing less than unfiltered desire. She was disgusted. One would think the heir to the kingdom would have more control over himself, but here he was in the middle of the street, panting like a dog in heat, asking to have a taste of her. The worst part—he wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
She had learned a few tricks. Some men you had to smile at and act coy with for them to let you go; others, you beat with a stick. However, nothing in her skill box prepared her for how to deal with a prince—and a crown prince at that. He was powerful and was currently the most powerful man in all of Edenville. She couldn’t anger him.
Rose bowed and stepped back. "I am so sorry, yer Highness, but I think ye have me mistaken for someone else. I am engaged to be married in a week."
"Does it matter?" he asked and stepped closer. "Engaged to be married, married—neither matters much to me. All I ask is that you spread your legs for me. I’ll pay you handsomely."
Rose’s eyes blazed. She would have slapped him if he wasn’t the crown prince. He was clearly the type you beat with a stick, but Rose wasn’t about to lose her arms just yet. However, she wasn’t some roadside whore he could just call upon. This was unbelievable. There were people here—did he not care? Emma would call her shameless often, but she was nothing close to this.
"I beg ye, ’ave mercy, yer Highness. A lowly girl like me could never satisfy His Highness. I ain’t got the skills nor the status."