Page 222 of Kneel Before Me

Daphne pulled away just as the top of the corset opened.

Maximus watched as harsh, sudden realization flashed across her face. “Daphne,” he whispered. “Don’t—”

But she was already standing. In that moment Maximus knew the spell was broken; Daphne was once more closed off to him. Maximus felt the warmth of her body leave his, coldness rushing in as if someone had opened a window. He stared at his lap—at the place where she’d been—wishing more than anything that he could have kept her there.

Daphne gathered herself quickly, yanking her corset shut. He averted his eyes; he knew she wouldn’t want him watching her. Everything he wanted to see was once more covered. Everything he’d almost touched was hidden again. She was already turning toward the door.

Maximus stood, crossing to her before she could leave. “Daphne.”

He was afraid if he said anything other than her name, she might run. To his surprise, she remained in place, her hand on the doorknob, looking back at him.

“Are you angry with me?”

She shook her head. Her flush was gone; she was pale once more.

“If you are not angry with me, then please tell me how you feel.”

Daphne still didn’t speak. The harder he held on to her, the harder she resisted him. It had always been that way.

“If it is a matter of your honor, no one has to know what happened. I will not speak of this to anyone—you have my word.”

To his horror, she looked angry at that.

“Daphne,” he said desperately. “Please. If we went too far, you have my sincerest apologies. I should not have allowed this to happen. I know how you feel about…this type of thing. You told me you did not want to have sex until you were in love, and I should have respected that. I do respect that. I will never touch you again if that’s what you want. You need only say the word.”

Finally, Daphne spoke. “That’s not what I want.”

Maximus’s heart swooped at her words. The terror he’d felt mere moments ago was gone, replaced by irrefutable, intoxicating hope. He knew her words would play over and over in his mind: That’s not what I want.

“In that case,” he whispered, “what do you want?”

She just shook her head.

Perhaps she felt that she had already revealed too much. Maximus was dying to hear more. He wanted to hear every single thought in her beautiful brain—anything she was willing to tell him—even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I just want to go to sleep.”

It was not the answer he wanted. But it was the answer she had given him, and he had to respect it. “Then we shall get you to sleep.”

Maximus escorted her down the hallway to her room, hating every moment of it. When they reached her door, she did not turn to him, nor did she look him in the eye. She merely whispered, “Good night, Max,” and disappeared.

His bedroom was cold without her.

Maximus’s first instinct was to drink, to find the strongest thing on his bar cart and pour it down his throat. But alcohol would only numb him, and he found that he didn’t want to be numb at all. He wanted to remember every single moment of the evening, from the way her skin had tasted to how warm she’d been in his arms. He couldn’t believe that disgusting basilisk got to touch her—to see her naked body and do with it what he pleased. That monster didn’t deserve her. Nobody deserved her, including Maximus.

That’s not what I want. That’s not what I want. That’s not what I want.

Alone in his room, Maximus smiled. Whether Daphne herself was willing to admit it or not, their story was not over. Perhaps it had only just begun. If Maximus were to take anything away from what happened tonight, it was that he knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had a chance with Daphne. And a chance was all Maximus needed. If there was even the smallest opening in her heart for him, he would fight to get inside it. He wanted to be better—to be a good king for her. He would do anything to see her smile at him again.

He fell asleep thinking of the marks he’d left on her neck.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Daphne

Daphne did not go to sleep.

Instead she stood in her room for several moments, listening hard at the door until she heard Maximus leave. Then she crossed to the window, threw it open, and climbed down the trellis. She was so lightheaded that she barely made it to the ground. Something was wrong—the same thing she’d felt after Maximus had taken her horseback riding was happening again now. Every time Daphne touched him, it drained her. She was weak and lightheaded and quite sure it had nothing to do with the wine.