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My hand doesn’t listen, though. Fingers slide through my own arousal and I find that bundle of nerves promising sweet release. All I see is Asher. His broad hands, and the feeling of his palms on my hips. The hard planes of his chest. The taste of his kiss.
This finger sliding in and out of me? I wish it were his. The pleasure teasing through my thighs feels like a whisper of the real thing, but I still let myself go there. I picture his dark hair curled around my fingers, and his thick, hard cock driving inside me. I imagine his strong, broad body caging mine, and the feeling of letting go. Letting him take control. Letting him give me what I need.
Under the shower stream, I stifle a cry as an orgasm washes over me. My legs tremble as my core clenches on nothing, Asher’s face burned in my mind. Panting, I stand under the shower for a while longer. It doesn’t cool me down or wash away the feeling that I’m making a big mistake.
Asher may be beautiful. He might make my body feel more alive than it has in years. He might have a disarming smile and mischief in his dark brown eyes, but that doesn’t mean I can pursue him—or anyone, for that matter.
I’m the heirless Queen of Nord, and my duty is to my people.
I succeed in keeping things professional with Asher by avoiding him entirely—well, except for my dreams. More than once, I wake up tangled in my sheets with an ache between my legs. A week passes, then another. He communicates with me through official channels but not directly with me, which is fine. We’re professionals. I don’t normally talk to mining executives personally, anyway.
Whenever I see his name, heat blasts through my core. I wear an almost permanent blush. As the days roll into one another, I pretend I’ve regained control over myself. I almost forget the way it felt to be in the same room as him.
Almost.
But two weeks after our talk in the garden, my office receives the Gerhard Corporation’s official application for mining rights and purchase of land near Roston. The proposal, as I requested with Asher, is for a joint venture between Gerhard Corporation and Nord Resources Group, with the former providing the capital and management oversight, and the latter providing the labor and diamond mining expertise. When I review the application, I’m impressed. Two weeks isn’t a long time to put something like this together. It’s almost unheard of—but this deal is too sweet to pass up. I knew it when I asked him to submit a proposal. I handed him a big, fat paycheck and a new market to explore.
I make a few comments, asking that the contracts stipulate a minimum percentage of local workers to be employed at the mines and construction sites at all times. I can tell by my staff and legal team’s comments that this application is much more desirable than the Donovan one.
By making this deal with Asher, I might have just saved my kingdom from doing business with Donovan Enterprises—but I’ve cut myself off from ever being with Asher as anything other than a distant professional acquaintance.
Things move quickly. The protests in the kingdom are gaining steam, and the government is keen to announce something positive to the people. Gerhard Inc.’s application is approved within two more weeks, and the sale of land proceeds. Four weeks after I tell Asher about the diamond fields, his company officially purchases the land from the Crown.
Our relationship is officially professional and must remain that way. When I see the news break about the sale of the land and see the positive reaction of almost everyone in the country, I know I made the right decision. Nord needs new industry, and Asher is perfectly positioned to provide it.
Still, I can’t help the feeling that I’ve lost something. A chance at…something. Love, maybe. Or at least companionship.
A week later, at the beginning of July, we receive an invitation to a ceremony to officially announce the start of the project. We’ll be unveiling the preliminary plans to the locals and announcing the new mine to the world.
My presence would be appreciated, as it would make it very clear where the Crown stands. Royal approval of this project will be good for the mine—and good for my image. I’ve sustained so much criticism over the past few weeks that any good news will need to be blasted to the public.
As soon as the invitation comes through, I know where my duty lies. For once, it’s aligned with what I want—and I want to go to Roston. I want to see Asher.
Travel preparations are made, and I try to quell the excitement that trills in my chest. I haven’t seen Asher in five weeks. The day I’m supposed to travel to Roston, the easternmost city in Nord, nervous butterflies tickle my stomach. I check my hair and touch up my makeup, then curse myself for caring.
But I don’t care what Asher thinks of how I look—I just know there will be lots of photos taken…right? These are professional worries. It’s not his presence that makes my stomach twist in knots.
A car takes me to a royal jet, which carries me up in the air toward Roston. I try not to fidget, choosing instead to review the official press release and the agenda for the day. We have a few scheduled stops to make in the city—the hospital and an elementary school, to start, then we’ll head to the new mine site for the announcement. I’m to make a speech ratifying the agreement between NRG and Gerhard Incorporated.
They’ll unveil the plans to start exploratory tests this summer, then spend the winter planning the construction of the mine. The official start of the project will be at the beginning of summer next year, but jobs will be available to Nordish locals throughout the next few months.
I should be relieved, but all I feel is a nervous kind of excitement.
The flight is bumpy. Turbulence shakes the aircraft like a paper plane, and I grip the edges of my seat until we’re safely on the ground. It’s hard to be graceful when my stomach is twisted up in knots—but is it due to the flight, or the fact that I’m going to see Asher again?
I smile and shake hands when I’m supposed to, and I’m ferried from one stop to another. The sky grows dark, and the wind starts to howl.
Even though I meet a hundred people, I see no one. I’m sure I do all the right things, because I’ve been doing these duties since I was ten. I’ve been the Queen for a long time. I smile when I’m supposed to and congratulate school kids on their achievements. The hospital visit is just as smooth, and I take all the required photos.
But when the royal car takes me toward the future mine site, I tense.
Asher will be there. I’ll have to look at him, knowing I felt something when we were at Gabriel’s wedding, but I’ll have to ignore it. I’m the one who told him this had to stay professional. I’m the one who’s stayed locked up in the castle and has avoided any business meetings where I knew Asher would be present.
If the connection between us has fizzled, it’s my fault—but I did it for my duty to my people. I gave up that connection, let it die out, because it’s what I had to do. What I still have to do to save my kingdom from recession and mass unemployment.
We arrive, and I’m led through a pack of reporters to a small stage. Asher’s already there, along with Mick Burgundy. I barely see the second man. All my focus is on Asher, and the way his eyes track my every move. Despite the harsh wind, heat blazes through my body. Even the sight of him reminds me what it felt like to have his palms on my body, his lips on mine, his cock buried deep inside me.
And—I want that again. I want to feel like something more than a queen who stands in front of cameras and makes wooden speeches. I want to bare myself for him and know he sees me not as the Queen of Nord, but as Penelope Stone, the girl he knew in boarding school.
