AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Going anywhere with Penelope is the exact opposite of what I should be doing, which is going back to Roston and being fully involved in the mobilization of staff and materials for the start of construction.
I should be staying far away from her, because she tempts me to tell her the truth about our merger with Donovan Enterprises. She makes me want to leave behind the ruthless businessman I am and become something else…someone else.
But her lips are so beautifully soft, and her body is pressed up against mine and…I’m weak. I want this warmth. Her smiles. Her laughter. I want to feel this heat coursing through my veins.
The thought of heading back to Roston on my own seems like the entirely wrong thing to do.
One week can’t hurt, can it? It doesn’t mean I have to tell her anything about the business. After all, she’s the Queen, and who am I to refuse her?
17
Penelope
I’ve been trying my best to be a good queen, to keep my thoughts away from Asher and focus on the people. There’s been a knot in my stomach since we were in the kitchen together in Roston. I haven’t been able to eat right, and my staff is starting to notice. Everything feels…off. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Asher came into my life and shook everything up like a snow globe.
It doesn’t help that every time I look at a newspaper or turn on the television, he’s there.
Usually, he’s saying complimentary things about me and my government. I can’t help but feel like there’s a hidden meaning. When he says I serve Nord with duty and honor, I can’t help but remember the way it felt to be in his arms. Like he’s reminding me in every interview that we shared something secret—something special.
Over the past three weeks, tensions in Nord have dissolved, and the threat of unemployment is lessening. Approval ratings are on the rise, and people crying for the abolition of the monarchy are quieting down. Even Jacinthe Crawley.
I have Asher to thank for that. Without his support in every interview and article, I doubt I would’ve gotten the credit for this project.
His fingers make soft circles over the skin on my back. We stand in his hotel suite, arms locked around each other. My head spins. That slow, tender movement of his hand—it…it does something to me. To my heart. Makes it stutter and skip inside my chest, as if my body has forgotten how to pump blood properly.
“You’ve been very kind to me in the media,” I say softly, lifting my gaze up to his.
“I’ve told the truth. Without you, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I appreciate it.” I clear my throat, taking a deep breath. “I often feel like I’m on my own, always being criticized. It’s nice to have someone in my corner.”
Asher’s eyes soften, his hand stilling for a moment. I think I see a hint of conflict in his eyes, but it passes so quickly I almost doubt whether it was there at all.
I’ve seen so little of him over the past weeks—months, even. It’s been over two months since Prince Gabriel’s wedding, but I feel like my whole world has shifted. I think about him all the time. I know I said I wanted to keep things professional, and being here is in direct conflict with that. I know these things…but I just can’t quite bring myself to care.
Call me weak. Call me a hypocrite. Call me whatever you want—but I’m sick of resisting. I want to spend time with him. As the days have passed without him, I feel almost nauseous. Ever since Roston, it’s happened in waves, like I can’t quite shake the feeling that something has changed within me. Something is different.
It’s emotional or mental—manifesting itself physically—but there’s been a seismic shift inside me. All because of Asher.
“I have a confession, Pen.” Asher’s eyes are dark. He looks in my eyes, then drops his gaze to my lips.
A slow tendril of heat curls through my stomach, making me want to clench my thighs together. Every night, I’ve thought of how it felt to have him inside me. Three weeks I’ve pleasured myself to the memory of his touch. I’ve replayed our night in Roston over and over in my mind. Being here…it makes my head spin. Pushing past the lump in my throat, I speak. “What’s that?”
I don’t want him to say we can’t do this. I don’t want him to repeat the words I said to him and tell me we can’t be close. I’ve done that. I’ve tried to be professional. I’ve kept my distance.
I can’t do it anymore.
Asher leans down, touching his forehead to mine. “I have to admit…” His throat clenches as he gulps, and a thin thread of fear travels through my heart. There’s something wrong. His eyes…they’re serious. He’s going to confess something to me, and I’m not going to like it. My heart starts to hammer, and hot embarrassment creeps up my neck. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s going to reject me. He’s going to tell me something awful.
Asher takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Deep lines bracket his mouth, then his shoulders drop. He opens his eyes, and the conflict is gone. A thin, watery smile appears on his lips. “I have to admit, I really hate fishing.”
Sweet, sweet relief. There’s nothing wrong between us. He’s not rejecting me. Am I really so weak that my mind went straight there?
Laughter bubbles through me, silenced when Asher kisses me. His lips are soft, yet demanding, and I melt into his kiss. When his tongue swipes across my lower lip and dives into my mouth, I feel every muscle in my body relax into his touch.
How could I think to resist this? How could I stay away from him when I know how it feels to be in his arms?
Heat clenches deep inside me, fire sparking between my legs. I…want this. More. I want more of him, and I don’t want to keep things professional. I don’t want to be the Queen. Not now. Not with him.
