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“It looks more like my father.” A bit of joy dimmed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, even though she’d hated it when others had said that to her. “It must have been difficult for you to return here.”
He glanced down at her as though surprised by her insight. “It was.”
She nodded. “When my brother died, it killed me to go into his room. To go through his things. Every time I did, it was like he died all over again.”
“How did he…
“Die? Heroin.” At his raised brow, she clarified. “A drug. He overdosed.”
“I’m so sorry. How old was he?”
“Sixteen. I had just turned nineteen. Still just a kid myself.” And all on her own.
“I wish I could have been there for you.”
She blinked up at his earnest sincerity. A tightness in her chest that she hadn’t realized was there relaxed, and some deep-seeded need for connection made her reach up and cup his cheek in her palm. He froze as if unused to the contact. “Same here,” she whispered.
He gazed down at her like she was an anomaly.
Realizing the imprudence of her actions, she swiftly lowered her hand and they continued dancing, but there was a new kind of tension between them.
Then his expression turned impish. “So, you think I’m beautiful and elegant?”
“What?”
“The statue. You said it was beautiful and elegant and that it reminded you of me.”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head. I also think you’re bearish and impolite.”
“Impolite?”
“Yes. You didn’t even ask if I wanted to dance with you. You just made it so.”
“Would you like to stop?”
“And you keep scaring away any man who looks at me twice.”
“That’s because you don’t know what you’d be getting yourself into. You don’t know what a man thinks when he looks at you.”
“Of course I do. It’s the first lesson every girl learns. Don’t act as if you’re any different.”
“Different? No. I’m the worst of them all because I’ve seen more of you than any of them. I’ve had you on top of me.” When her mouth parted, he leaned down to mutter in her ear, “And I want more.”
10
Tristan caught sight of a disapproving Belinda as he led June by the hand up the stairs and into the castle. Luckily his mother was distracted by Kyra and Zoey, attempting to coax her on the dance floor again. Who knew what she’d have to say if she’d spotted him sneaking away with the sexy little human.
By the heat wafting off her, June’s temperature had risen several degrees and she had the sweetest blush in her cheeks. She hadn’t spoken since he’d declared his intentions, but she wasn’t resisting either. The slightest tug from her and he’d cease this insanity and escort her back to the party. Part of him wanted her to. Part of him knew this was wrong. Women grew attached when things got intimate. Women gave their hearts too easily and expected the same in return. He thought of his would-be wife, waiting for his answer to her proposal. Soon the duties of his crown would consume his every moment, carefree days behind him. He just wanted one more minute. One more second where this weight was off his shoulders and he could just be Tristan. Whether wrapping June’s body around him would give him the mindlessness he craved remained to be seen, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to forbear.
“Tristan, wait.”
Oh, thank the gods, she had more sense than he did. Still, disappointment burned as he came to a halt and faced her in the dark hallway.
“Before we go any further…I just need see something.”
Oh?
