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Gritting my teeth, I push the thought aside. That’s not the life that was laid out before me. I was given a chance at love, and it ended in tragedy. I’m destined to walk through life alone—and after living through the agonizing heartbreak of my husband’s death, I have no desire to re-live that experience.
I’m the Queen. Nothing more.
Asher keeps his head down in a show of deference, only flicking his eyes to mine when he rises from a bow. There’s a hint of laughter in his gaze, and a whole heap of insolence.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. At least he hasn’t changed—and he’s acting appropriately in front of the cameras.
My gaze flicks across his broad shoulders and down to his tapered waist. In a well-tailored wool pea coat, Asher looks like he belongs in the streets of New York, not a mine site in Nord. A scarf covers his neck, with only the barest hint of his scar showing above it on his jaw. Briefly, I wonder if he did it on purpose—hiding his scar for the pack of cameras that flash before us.
It’s hard to keep my eyes to myself when he looks so wonderfully delicious. My fingers itch to unbutton his jacket, slowly revealing more of his muscular body. He never let me undress him when we had sex. I’ve been left wondering what he’s hiding under those clothes, and my curiosity burns hot somewhere low, between my thighs.
Stop, Penelope. Be professional. He was off-limits before, and even more so now.
The ceremony starts. I make my speech, cameras flash, and I do my best to keep my voice steady. I don’t look at Asher. Why would I? He’s a businessman, and I’m the Queen. We shouldn’t even know each other at all.
My heart tugs when I leave, and a deep sense of longing opens up in my chest. I didn’t get a moment alone with him, but the fact that he was near made me feel warmer than I have in years. I barely even felt the wind—am I really ready to give that feeling up for my kingdom?
I’ve given so much to this place. Duty has worn me down to a shell of my former self, and I know the Crown will suck the life out of me until there’s nothing left—but isn’t that the duty of the Queen? To serve?
These feelings—longing, regret, red-hot lust—they don’t matter. Not in the face of providing for my people.
On the way back to the airport, the intercom buzzes. Frederick, who’s sitting in the front seat, speaks. “Ma’am, we’ve just heard from the pilot. The wind is too strong to fly. We’ll have to stay in Roston for the night.”
“That’s fine, Frederick,” I reply, settling back in my seat.
The intercom buzzes, then flicks off. There’s a pause, as if my private secretary is hesitating. Finally, his voice comes through again. “The hotel is undergoing renovations, and the rooms they do have are occupied by NRG’s people, so they don’t have an adequate suite for us. But…Mr. Gerhard has generously offered his home for the night.”
My eyes snap open, heat unfurling in my core. A whole night in the same building as Asher? What if I have a…dream? Will I be able to look in him in the eye in the morning? What if he sees the desire in my gaze and knows what I’ve been trying to resist?
I shouldn’t stay at his house. But if I refuse, and the media catch wind, would it cause a controversy? If there truly was nothing behind Asher and me, then I would accept his offer graciously and thank him for his generosity. I need to act normal. The unruffled, cold Queen—but being in the same house as him is dangerous, and I’m not sure I have a choice.
Heart thumping, I press the intercom button. “Thank you, Frederick. We’ll stay at Mr. Gerhard’s residence.” Mercifully, my voice doesn’t tremble. I lean back in my chair as a gust of wind shakes the car, rattling my whole body. My thoughts scatter, and the only thing I can focus on is Asher. His face, his lips, the way it felt to have his hands on me in the royal gardens.
He makes me feel warm. Everywhere, all at once. It’s intoxicating, even after all this time apart. As we pull in through a gate and I see a mid-sized house loom up ahead, I can’t deny the excitement curling in my core.
My driver pulls up outside and Frederick rushes to open the door for me. I’m hurried inside, where a maid is waiting to take my jacket. She’s not alone. Asher stands a few steps behind her, a teasing grin playing over his lips. I flick my eyes to his, immediately regretting it.
Fire rips through my core at the sight of his gaze, which promises trouble. Delicious, mischievous trouble. Yearning rises up inside me like a hungry wolf, howling to be heard above the wind.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Gerhard.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” he says, saying my title with a hint of irony. He gives me a low bow, which on the surface, looks appropriate, but I can tell by the tug in his lips that he means it to be a joke. His hand moves to touch his cheek, and when his eyes flash, I know he’s thinking of the slap.
I’d slap him right now if no one were watching.
He sweeps an arm toward the interior of the house. “I’ve had my team prepare rooms for you and your staff. I only moved in here a week ago, so you’ll have to excuse the, uh, minimal furnishings.”
I follow his gaze, noting the empty living room to my left. I follow him to a kitchen, which does have a table and chairs, but looks equally as bare as the living room. There’s nothing on the walls. No decorative pillows or throws. It looks…soulless. Like Asher doesn’t plan on staying. Why does that thought make my heart sting?
We head up the stairs, and Asher points out a row of doors to the left. “Those are for you and your staff. Once again, I apologize for how bare the rooms are.”
“I appreciate you housing us, Mr. Gerhard.”
His eyes glimmer, and I feel like I’m roleplaying. We’re acting appropriately, when all I can think of is how badly I want to taste his kiss again.
No. Stop. That’s not why I’m here. That’s not why I approved this project or came here to celebrate the announcement. I’m doing this so people have jobs and I try to avoid mass unemployment during the next few years. I’m doing this for the people, because it’s my responsibility to make sure my citizens are safe and fed and employed.
I’m definitely not here because Asher makes me feel like my body is on fire. It’s not because he melts the ice that has clung to my veins for seven years. It’s not because he makes me want to double over and laugh—and slap him silly at the same time.
