The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“I can’t. I . . . ” I paused, trying to decide how much I
wanted to explain. Finally, I simply smiled again and said, “I
have a date.”
“A date,” he repeated, his eyes assessing me closer now,
as if he was trying to figure out who would ask me on a date.
It was the moment I realized I could definitely grow to hate
Prince Elias. How had I ever slept with this man? How could I
have given him my virginity? I was disgusted with myself.
“Yes, a date.”
“So you won’t be available at seven?”
“No,” I said too quickly, then added, “I will bring your
basket and whatever else you need at seven, but after that,
I’m indisposed.”
“What about nine o’clock?”
“I’ll still be on my date.”
“Eleven?”
“What are you getting at here? I’m not a bartender,
Prince Elias. I can hire you one from the bar down the street
if you’d like, though I’m sure your sta probably has a list of
capable bartenders who can go to your party.” I was losing
my patience and trying really hard not to. “I won’t be
available tomorrow night and you should be grateful for that.
I make shit drinks. All of my friends say I do. I put too much
alcohol and too little mixer and everyone ends up getting
drunk way too quickly and feeling sick at some point or
nursing massive hangovers. I’m not available tomorrow
night nor am I here for your entertainment. I’m sure it’s a
concept you’re not familiar with, but some of us have actual
lives and actual jobs that don’t revolve around the Crown.”
When I finished my rant, I slapped a hand over my
mouth, wishing I’d done so before I started talking. Oh my
God. Had I just . . . why, why, why had I opened my mouth to
respond? Prince Elias was no longer watching me with