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“Not like mine.” I poke my lower lip out, peer down at my chest. “Mine are talentless twits. Anna’s make milk.”
Something touches my leg, and I startle.
“Baby.” Declan smiles. I rub her with my foot.
“Do you still like me, Carnegie?”
He makes a frowny face, but also a bit soft, a little smiling. “Why would you ask that?”
I look down at the table. He stands up and pulls me up against his hard abs. “Why’d you ask me that, Siren? Tell me.”
“Because…of things,” I whisper. I shake my head, picturing our odd lovemaking. “Can’t remember now,” I murmur. I try to stand.
He helps me up. “Let’s go back to the bedroom. You can see a thing I knitted.”
That sends me all giggly. “I adore a man who has smart fingers.”
His hand grips mine as we walk toward our lovely lair. I note the yarn out on the bed. There’s two mugs on the bedside table.
“Having tea?” I frown down at them.
“Yeah.”
“You quite like it.”
He nods. I frown as I sniff in his direction. “Do you smell that smoke smell? Oh,” I laugh, “I bet it’s you. You’ve been a chimney lately!”
He tugs at his shirt, takes it off. I whistle at his lovely, hard torso—or try to. He laughs at my failed attempt.
We’re on the bed then. I’m collapsed on my back, and he’s leaned over me. I reach up and pinch his pebbled nipples. “These are darling.”
That gives him a good laugh.
“So much good here.” I run my hand down his chest and realize I can feel the outline of his ribs. “What’s this?” I run my fingertips over the hardness of him there.
“My body?”
He’s grown leaner, I realize. But…it’s rude to say so. I don’t want to make him feel odd. I’ll just feed him lots so he’ll be healthy when he goes. When we go.
I look into his eyes. “I want to go with you. Did I say that yet?” His eyes widen, making me laugh. “I think not.” I claw at his side—warm skin, hard muscle, the surprise ribs.
I can see him try to blink away the shock on his face. He tries to mask it as he peers down at me.
“I’ve decided I’d like to go to America.” I wrap my arms around his, struggling to pull him down atop me. “I’m the princess, you’re the prince. It’s too soon…you leaving. We’ve only just begun.”
I reach for his face, cupping his cheek with my hand. “I’ve known it’s time for me to go,” I whisper. “Believe me…I need to get away from here. You’ll feed me liquor for the boat part…or we’ll break the safe. Not break the safe,” I muse. “That could be painful for you. No pain for you…”
His eyes are wide, and my mind’s foggy. I fear I’ve said something untoward. “Don’t be having wide eyes. And don’t let me be afraid,” I hiss. “If you tell me you love me, I can brave the boat.” The words grow raspier as I whisper. “I’m frightened of the boat.”
His eyes are wide and somber.
“Not now,” I whisper. His face blurs. “Say it when you want…I’m just talking nonsense. Kiss me.” I grab his shoulder. “And let’s be together.”
He kisses me. Harsh kisses. He should tell me he loves me. I bite his lip in retribution. “You’re a git.” I yank his hair. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
The words spin round till they’re evaporated. Did he really say them? I think so.
