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Penelope sets her glass down on the edge of my desk. It’s mostly full, the alcohol rocking gently from side to side. She stands up, brushing her thighs as she purses her lips. “I’ll think about it.”
Her eyes are cold now. The heat is gone. But behind the chill of her voice, there’s something. An edge. A roughness. Penelope wants to see me again. She’s fighting this feeling, this connection between us.
I stand up, turning toward her. She’s so close. Her chest just an inch from mine. Her eyes staring at my chest. If she just tilted her head up, I could lean over. I could brush my lips against hers. I could taste her sweetness once more.
But the Queen clears her throat and takes a step back. She glances at me through thick lashes, then blinks away. “Sorry for slapping you. Your cheek…it’s red.”
My fingers brush the still-stinging skin, the pain long since dulled into something else. Another kind of heat that rests lower in my body. “I liked it.” I shrug.
Penelope’s head whips toward me, and I can’t help but laugh at the shock on her face. “You’re sick in the head.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” I don’t even try to hide my grin.
“You need help.”
“Maybe I just need to be slapped around a bit.” I arch a brow, loving the way her eyes drift down to my lips.
But before I can move, Penelope shakes her head and walks to the door. She pauses, turning to glance at me. “How long are you in Nord?”
“As long as it takes.”
She holds my gaze, as if she’s trying to decipher my words. I don’t even know what I mean. Do I mean as long as it takes for me to close this merger with Donovan?
Or do I mean as long as it takes to see Penelope again? To make her understand what she means to me?
The Queen doesn’t answer. She opens the door and walks away. I listen to her footsteps fading, trying to control the violent thudding in my chest.
9
Penelope
I should have him deported. Or arrested. Or arrested, then deported. And fined. Definitely fined. He can pay for it, with the gazillions he’s made in all the business deals that article was boasting about.
A thought smacks me in the face. Did he plan the news article? Was it some ploy to get me to notice he’s here?
He said he came here because he wanted to see me…but then why wouldn’t he just try to contact me? It doesn’t make sense. I want to trust him, but…
Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean back against the seat of the car and let out a long sigh. The privacy screen is up and the windows are tinted dark, so I’m as alone as I can be.
Heat whips through my core even now, many minutes after I left Asher’s office. The way he looked at me…it was sinful. It made me want to kiss him in a desperate kind of way. My cheek burns with the whisper of his touch. Heart stuttering uncomfortably, I shift in my seat and try to regain control over my rioting body.
Letting out a sigh, I stare out the window. There’s something wrong with me. I can’t get involved with him. I should never have done anything in the first place. What happened at the wedding felt good. It was special—or at least, it felt special to me.
But Asher was able to turn my life upside down and take my focus off the kingdom. I slept with him once, and he had me stomping into his office in a completely inappropriate way. What will the newspapers say about me tomorrow, I wonder? Will the headlines scream about the two of us? Will they say I’m too busy worrying about my love life to focus on the looming recession and rising unemployment?
I shouldn’t want to see him, but, but, but…
Seeing him in his office made me feel alive in a way I’ve missed. In a way that makes me forget about my responsibilities.
I’ve been the Queen for so long, it feels like a betrayal to my people to feel like a woman, for once. My cheeks burn at the thought of the things we did in Prince Gabriel’s castle. If anyone were to find out…
The car jerks to a stop, jarring me from my thoughts. I look up ahead as a mass of people push onto the road. Angry, snarling faces scream, the noise dampened by the thick bulletproof glass protecting my car. Police officers push the crush of people back as protesters lift signs.
Craning my neck, I read one of them.
Give us work. Give us dignity.
My shoulders drop. Unemployment has been on the rise in Nord, and with winter only a few months away, many people will be struggling. It’s only the beginning of June, but the summer is short here—and the winter is harsh. I’ve tried to expand social services, but it doesn’t change the fact that the talking heads on the television are right. Nord is entering a recession. Maybe the parliament is right to push for new businesses to invest in Nord. Maybe Donovan Enterprises wouldn’t be so bad. If we were able to keep a short leash on them, they could provide jobs for thousands of people.
