Prince Mason shot up out of bed with a loud string of curses. Luckily, he was wearing a pair of breeches. He looked around with wide, bloodshot eyes. His expression was a mixture of anger and fear as his gaze landed on Ilona still holding the cup in her hand.
His chest was heaving and his eyes snapped to hers.
"Who the hell are you?" he shouted, "What are you doing in my bedroom?"
Ilona found she couldn't move. Her mouth couldn't form words to reply to his question. Never in her life had she seen a man that looked like this. His eyes were a deep blue like the ocean she loved. His chin was rough and needing a shave but it somehow only added to his appearance. Ilona felt sure she wouldn't have believed he was real if she wasn't seeing him for herself. He looked like someone she would see in a painting.
She couldn't manage to make herself speak so she pointed one finger towards the others.
