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“That was amazing,” she murmured in French.
“It was,” I agreed. “It’s hot as fuck when you speak my language, princesse.”
Dani giggled. “Did you know you were speaking French pretty much since you had me down to my underwear?”
“Was I?” I had been so wrapped up in her that I hadn’t realized it. “I guess it makes sense since it’s my first language.”
I’d told her where I was from at dinner, but I hadn’t mentioned that I was a prince. I felt a little guilty about keeping it from her, but I didn’t want to freak her out. I wasn’t worried about Dani wanting me for my money or status, but she was very humble and down to earth. I was afraid she wouldn’t want to be with someone who often attracted the media. Even though I only carried a title and would never rule. It might not be the right call, but I’d convinced myself to tell her later.
I felt her cheek move against my chest as she smiled. “I’m quite flattered that you were so carried away that you didn’t notice. Besides, you’re even sexier when you speak French. Which really isn’t fair since you’re already drop-dead gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I teased.
Talking about my losing my head over her reminded me that I’d fucked her without protection. I wanted to punch myself for being such an ass. Not because I’d taken her bare—I would never regret that—but because I’d done it without telling her the truth about myself.
If she was pregnant with my child, she should know that the baby would be a prince or princess. “Dani, princesse. We need to talk. I should have told you before now…”
I trailed off when I realized that her breathing was deep and even. She’d fallen asleep.
After a nap, then I’ll tell her.
I reached down and grabbed the comforter and dragged it over us before I drifted off with my arms wrapped around her and my cock still buried in her pussy.
3
TRISTAN
Iglanced at the clock on the wall, yet again, and silently cursed that time was going so fucking slow. Dani would be done with classes soon, and we were meeting at my apartment before taking off for a long weekend. There was a huge event on campus, so no classes had been scheduled for Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday. This meant we had a five-day weekend, so I had something special planned.
Normally, I loved my job, which surprised me at first because I’d never thought about being a professor. I sort of fell into it while finishing my coursework for my PhD in Archeology.
After serving my mandatory two years in my country’s military, I’d earned my bachelor's and master’s degrees at Oxford, then spent four years working in the field. My boss had been impressed with my knowledge and skills, so he’d taken me on explorations with him early in my career. During one dig, I’d devised a new idea for preserving the items we recovered, and Marlow had encouraged me to pursue it. Eventually, the concept was perfected enough to patent and pitch to other companies. Everything took off from there, and it wasn’t long before I had enough money to form my own business.
I’d offered Marlow a partnership, but he’d turned me down, saying he was too old to jump into something new. However, he’d remained a consultant and good friend. During those four years, my company developed other revolutionary new tools and methods for researching, retrieving, and preserving historic locations and artifacts.
Since it was easiest to travel back and forth to my country from New York City, I’d headquartered the business here. Eventually, I decided to come to Columbia and earn a PhD even though I was already worth over a billion dollars—without my royal inheritance. Near the end of my coursework, I was asked to guest lecture a couple of days a week. Once I’d finished and was working on my dissertation, they’d asked me to teach a class as well.
I was surprised when I realized how much I enjoyed it. Being in the classroom was a lot more fun than being holed up in my office in my company’s Midtown building. I’d finished my dissertation and officially graduated last year, at which point I was offered a full-time teaching position. Since I wanted more flexibility, I agreed to stay on but only part-time. I needed the freedom to take off on a project or go home for an extended visit.
Today, I didn’t have any focus for my class, so it was a good thing they were taking a test. But the time seemed to be dragging on so fucking slowly, it was driving me out of my mind.
Finally, the last student brought their paper to my desk at the front of the lecture hall, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I stuck the stack of tests into my briefcase. I stopped by my office to give them to my TA to grade, then I hurried home.
