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“And you don’t think it’s a good thing that we get along?”
“I have a job to do. I’ve told you that if you get in the way of that job, I will always pick the kingdom over you.”
She swallowed and nodded, knowing exactly what he was saying, but her stomach fluttered. When they first decided to marry, he had been sure he’d always take the kingdom’s side over hers. But this very argument proved that he was changing. And he clearly wasn’t happy about that.
“Is this the part where I say I’m sorry?”
He sniffed and looked away. “Sorry again? Why this time?”
“Because I think I tempt you. I think that’s why you’re really mad. I think knowing me has made you feel that you’d like to be a real boy, Pinocchio.”
“So I’m a puppet?”
“No. I think you’d like the freedom to make up your own mind, to make your own choices, but you’re afraid of what will happen to your kingdom.”
He caught her gaze. “You make it sound like an idiotic dilemma. But it isn’t. We might be a small kingdom but we’re an important one.” He slid his hand across her shoulder and to her long ponytail. He ran the fat braid through his fingers as if it were spun gold. “One woman should not change that.”
Even as he said the words, he stepped closer. He wrapped the braid around his knuckles and tugged her forward until they almost touched, but not quite. The air between them crackled, not with memories of how good they’d been together but with anticipation. If they kissed now, changed the terms of their deal now, the next two years would be very different.
And she wanted it. Not just for the sex. For the intimacy and the chance to be genuinely close to someone, even as she had the magical out of a two-year time limit.
He lowered his head slowly, giving her time, it seemed, to pull away if she wanted. But, mesmerized by the desperation in his black eyes, she stood perfectly still, barely breathing. He wanted this, too, and even though she knew he was going to kiss her, she also knew he fought a demon. He might want to be king, but he also wanted to be a man.
When his lips touched hers, she didn’t think of that night two months ago, she thought of this moment, of how he needed her, even if he didn’t see it.
She slid her arms around his neck as he released her braid, letting it swing across her back. With his hand now free, he brought her closer still. The press of her breasts to his chest knocked the air out of her lungs as his lips moved across hers roughly.
He was angry, she knew, because she was upsetting his well-laid plans. The irony of it was he’d been upsetting her plans, her life, from the second she’d met him. It only seemed fitting that finally she was doing the same to him.
Standing on tiptoe, she returned his kiss, as sure as he was. If he wanted to talk about unfair, she would show him unfair. The only way she could be intimate with someone was knowing she had an out. The inability to trust that her dad had instilled in her had crippled her for anything but a relationship that couldn’t last. She wouldn’t share the joy of raising children. She was lucky to get a child. She wouldn’t grow old with someone. The best she would get would be memories of whatever love, intimacy, happiness they could cobble together in the next two years. And even as it gave her at least slight hope, it also angered her mightily.
They dueled for a few seconds, each fighting for supremacy, until suddenly his mouth softened over hers. His hands slid down her back to her bottom, while his mouth lured her away from her anger and to that place where the softness of their kisses spoke of their real feelings.
Like it or not, they were falling in love.
And it wasn’t going to last.
But it was all Ginny Jones, high school guidance counselor from Texas with the alcoholic dad, was going to get in her lifetime.
So she wanted it. She wanted the intimacy, the friendship, the secrets and dreams.
The only problem was she had no idea how to go about getting any of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT TOOK EVERY ounce of concentration Dom could muster to pull away from Ginny. He’d never before felt the things he felt with her, but that was the problem. He’d never experienced any of these things because he’d avoided them. Not because he’d never met anyone like Ginny, but because he’d always been strong.
So when he stepped away, it wasn’t with regret. It was with self-recrimination. He did not want what she seemed to be offering. And if they didn’t stop this idiotic game, just as he’d told her, he was going to hurt her.
“I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned and walked to his room, vowing to himself that something like that kiss would never happen again.
