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And because she’s a bit of a sheltered princess, she has a lot of things to learn. Things King was too soft-hearted to teach her.
Softheartedness is the last thing anyone could accuse me of.
“Shouldn’t you be wondering about the joint property part? With that, and the power of attorney, I’ll be able to strip you of every last penny and toss you aside.”
“You wouldn’t.” No hesitation. She doesn’t even stop to think about it.
“What if I do?”
“No. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a backstabber. Also, I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t. Blind trust is plain stupidity.”
“It’s not blind. I carefully built it up over time. Besides, there needs to be some sort of trust if we’re going to get married.”
“This marriage is only for convenience. Do you understand, Gwyneth?”
“Oh.”
“It’s a yes or no question. Do you understand?”
“Does…does this mean you won’t touch me?”
My jaw clenches in two rapid tics and I shake my head. “No. It’ll be on paper only.”
The gray gains dominance in her chameleon eyes, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Not even when her clinking stops and she steps closer. “What if you do touch me?”
“It won’t happen.”
“But it happened before. Two years ago, remember? Though I was the one who touched you, but it still counts, right?”
“Gwyneth,” I grind out through my teeth.
She flinches, but she forges on, “What I’m trying to say is that it could happen again. You can’t stop it.”
“I can.”
She purses her lips, a frown creasing her forehead.
“No touching, Gwyneth, I mean it.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Fine.”
“Really?” For some reason, I don’t believe that she’d give up so easily. She has the frustrating type of determination that’s impossible to break.
“Yeah. It’s not like you won’t change your mind.”
“Gwyneth,” I warn.
She jumps again, startled. And I realize I do that a lot to her. Scare her by being strict and firm and generally harsh. But she’s the foolish one who doesn’t stay away.
She takes a step back. “I…uh…I’m going to ask the doctor if I can go inside.”
She turns around and runs as fast as she can from me. Her shorts ride up her pale thighs and her top stretches against her back. I try to look away, but I can’t.
I tell myself it’s to see what she’ll do as I openly watch the swish of her hair down her back and her legs that don’t seem so short now that she’s not standing in front of me.
She’s not a small person. Just small compared to me.
