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My name, again. My heart slows.
‘Why did you sleep with me?’ I push the question back on him, angling my head to his so I can see his expression.
His eyes scan my face with indolent ease, studying me, before his lips flicker in a quick grin. ‘You’re sexy.’ He moves his finger lower. ‘And beautiful.’ He draws his finger towards my belly button, then makes a circle, running his finger around it again and again. ‘And I wanted you.’
I wanted you.
The words bounce around inside me, the certainty behind them filling me with surprise. ‘And that’s how it works, is it?’
He waits for me to continue.
‘You see someone you want and what––they fall into your bed?’
‘Most of the time,’ he drawls jokingly, but something a lot like jealousy flashes in my gut. It’s not jealousy of him, it’s jealousy of his freedom and lifestyle. ‘You didn’t answer my question, Princesa.’
I nod slowly. ‘I wanted you too.’
‘But you must have wanted men before. Why me, now?’
I prop up onto my elbow, mirroring his body language, my fingers lifting to the bird tattooed above his heart. It’s an eagle, bold and confident, watching me as though with a warning in its eyes. ‘You’re sexy and beautiful?’ I tease.
His lips flicker in another slow smile. My heart twists.
With uncertainty slowing my words, I say, ‘Actually, I haven’t.’ I clear my throat. ‘Met anyone I wanted before, I mean.’
At the look of triumph in the depths of his eyes, I roll mine. ‘Don’t let your head get too big, Santiago. I didn’t exactly have much of an opportunity to meet anyone.’
‘You’ve met men before,’ he points out. ‘Lots of men, I’m sure. And yet I am the only one you’ve ever been tempted to sleep with.’
It’s one hundred per cent true, but I suspect his ego doesn’t need the stroking.
‘Whatever.’ I flick his tattoo.
He laughs, a hoarse sound that sends little arrows of desire across my spine. Silence falls between us, warm and pricked with awareness.
‘I guess,’ I say thoughtfully, surprised at how honest I’m prepared to be with Santiago. ‘I didn’t want to miss this opportunity.’
He waits for me to continue and I order my words with care.
‘I don’t know much about Heydar. He seems nice, and he has a good record on all the things that matter. But, the handful of times we’ve been in the same room, I’ve felt nothing. Not even curiosity. We don’t have any spark whatsoever. I’ll marry him because he’ll be good for my country, and because it was important to my parents, but I already know that our marriage won’t have chemistry.’
I shift my hand to the snake inked on his toned forearm, tracing its length.
‘And then I met you, and you were so infuriating and rude and direct, and unlike anyone I’ve ever known,’ I say with a weak smile. ‘And when you kissed me I felt like part of me I didn’t know existed was being brought to life: and not piece by piece, but all at once, in a huge, fiery rush. It terrified me,’ I murmur. ‘I didn’t come to Spain expecting we’d sleep together. In fact, I came determined that we wouldn’t. After all, I can’t be involved with someone like you,’ I point out matter-of-factly. ‘The way you make me feel is both exhilarating and terrifying. But I’m going to marry a guy I feel nothing for, so don’t I deserve this?’
It’s a rhetorical question. I’m telling him to absolve me of a sin that I haven’t really committed. I’m telling him to understand.
He mulls it over for a moment before leaning forward, brushing our lips together. ‘Everyone deserves great sex in their life, Freja. I’m just sorry you’re willing to walk into a lifetime without it.’
It had never really bothered me before. If anything, I’d come to the conclusion I was asexual, not remotely interested in men. But now? Having been awoken by Santiago, what will it be like to push this part of myself back into the box?
Necessary, I remind myself. My country needs this, and it was the wish of my parents.
‘How long are you in Spain for?’
‘Four nights. Including tonight.’
‘It’s not long.’
