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A jolt of heat pierces my gut.
Penelope cuts me with a glare. “Professionally, I mean.”
“Right.”
We walk for a few minutes, across a lawn and into a more wooded area. A fountain sprays into a pond at the end of the path. She pauses, glancing behind her, then turns to me. “We need to talk.”
I nod. “I’m listening.”
“I’m serious, Asher.”
I bite back a groan. I love the way she says my name. It’s sweeter on her tongue, somehow. Like it would sound good if she cried it out in ecstasy.
Penelope takes a deep breath. “What happened at Gabriel’s wedding—”
“I understand.”
“Let me speak,” she snaps. Her eyes flick to mine, icy-blue and clear. “It…It was fun. But it can’t happen again. This relationship must remain professional.”
“Of course.”
“No comments, Asher. No innuendo. No kisses. No touching. No slapping.”
“To be fair, you’re the one who slapped me.”
She lets out a frustrated huff, and I can’t quite hide my grin. “Asher, I mean it. The only reason I’m even considering this deal is because of the economic situation in Nord. We need heavy industry. Our workers need jobs.”
“And I can provide them.”
She holds up a hand. “But if anyone thinks I gave you that project because of some kind of…personal favor…it would look very, very bad. For both of us.”
A soft breeze teases a strand of hair out of her bun, making it whip across her face. Before I can stop myself, I’m tucking it behind her ear. Her skin is so soft. She closes her eyes for just a moment, and everything goes still.
I forget that she’s a queen, and I’m only a lowly business executive. I forget that she’s telling me there can be nothing between us. I forget that my body is scarred and ugly, and no one will ever be able to love me when they see what the fire did to me.
Because in this moment, Penelope closes her eyes and lets out a soft sigh, and it’s easy to forget everything around. “Asher,” she whispers.
“The more you say my name, the more I want to kiss you.” My voice is full of gravel. I take a step toward Penelope, letting my hand slide behind her ear to caress the nape of her neck.
“Did you not hear anything I just said?”
“I heard every word, Pen.”
Her eyes meet mine, emotion warring within them. “So why are you doing this?”
“Because it feels too good not to.”
“I’m not…” She shakes her head. “I’m not a regular woman, Asher. I need to be a queen to this country before everything else.”
“I’m not asking you to give up the throne.”
“But you are.” Her voice is nothing but a whisper. “Touching me like that…” she trails off, closing her eyes.
With one hand drawing small circles over the nape of her neck, I slide my other hand over her hip. Her dress feels silky, and I let my fingers crawl down to rest on top of her ass. One step forward, and her chest is against mine.
“You can tell me to stop, Pen, and I will.”
She lets out a sigh, conflict written all over her face.
