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I go to the door to find Lucy standing in the hall, dutifully staring at nothing on the opposite wall. “I can manage this myself,” I say as I take the dress from her. “I’ve been terribly demanding of you. You should go have a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
She walks away, and I reenter my rooms to shake my head at Tomas. “You have to help me into this now.”
“Putting a dress on you is in direct contrast to my intentions.”
I hang up the dress before it turns into a wrinkled pile on the floor. “And what are your intentions?” I ask with my back to him.
The air buzzes between us as he comes up behind me. His arms encircle me, and hands trace down my chest, opening the dressing gown on their journey down my body. The trail seared down me in the wake of his touch ends just short of the ache building for him. He pulls the dressing gown past my shoulders, letting it drop around my feet. My heartbeat pounds up my neck and through my ears as the sounds of his boots dropping to the floor and the rustling of his shirt brushing off him make me squirm. The warmth of his bare chest presses against my back, and I drop my head against him with a soft moan.
“Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
He spins me around so we are chest to chest. “Yes, my queen.”
“Not yet.”
“You’ve always been my queen.”
Chapter fifty-five
“What happened here?” I brush my fingers over a fresh pink scar on his shoulder. Even if every bit of his body weren’t imprinted in my memory, this injury the size of my hand could never go unnoticed.
Tomas shakes his head, sinking farther into the pillow. “Helping Nina had its risks.”
“She did this?”
“Don’t go trying to avenge me. It was mostly accidental.”
I roll my eyes. “When did it happen?”
“When she came to Highbluff to train.”
I prop my head up on my hand, and Tomas’ gaze flickers to my bare chest for a second. “Was that why you wouldn’t see me that day? Marcus made it sound like you wanted nothing to do with me.”
He shakes his head. “Marcus’ communication skills are lacking.”
“I couldn’t even see Jo! I thought you both hated me.”
“She was tending to this.” He tips his chin toward the healing burn. “And fighting with Nina.”
I rest my head on him again. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the possible betrothal.”
“It would have been fairly hypocritical to ask you to help Nina after I disapproved of your plan to help Rylan. Furthermore, that marriage never would have come to pass. I’d have found a way out of it.” He wraps his arms tighter around me.
“Why weren’t you this adamant about fighting my betrothal?”
Fingertips slide over the bumps of my spine. “We’d only had one night. We hadn’t talked about it at all. For you, it could have simply been a night of passion.” His hand stops rubbing my back, and his fingertips press into me. “I… wasn’t brave enough to suggest we were more than that, not as unsure as I was of your thoughts.”
I kiss his chest and look up at him. “I can’t really fault you for that, since I had the same problem.”
The idea that either of us could have married other people is so ridiculous now. Nothing could have kept us apart. But we do have to take brief interludes from each other.
It’s an exercise in self-control to drag myself away from Tomas. I want nothing more than to remain here, wrapped in his arms, but this is what we’re agreeing to—there will always be a job to be done. He doesn’t complain as I stand, but still I feel the need to make an excuse. “We’re keeping everyone waiting.”
“It’s only our families, and you did have a rather close brush with death today. I don’t think they’ll be impatient.”
Only our families, as if our families aren’t the two most powerful in the kingdom. His lightheartedness draws a small smile from me. He’ll keep things in perspective for me. “Fine, but what shall your excuse be?” I go to my vanity and sit on the velvet-cushioned stool as Tomas flings his legs over the side of the bed.
