Page 50 of Fit for a King

“Look at me, Noah.”

“Sir, I⁠—”

“Noah.” His eyes came back to mine. “What about what I need?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that…sir.”

“You’re the only one qualified to answer that.”

“Nicholas—”

“Yes,” I said, nodding and taking a step forward. “Say that again.”

I wasn’t sure he would, but when I stopped in front of him, he said softly, “Nicholas.”

I closed my eyes and savored the moment, enjoying the sound of my name on his lips. Now, if only I could feel them on mine…

“Tell me this doesn’t feel right,” I said, opening my eyes to look into his. “Tell me you weren’t looking forward to coming up here this morning, to seeing me.”

“Why? That’s not going to help anything.”

I reached for his hands and squeezed them. “It’s not going to hurt anything either. Tell me, and I’ll stop and never bother you again.”

Noah opened his mouth, and for a moment I wondered if I’d read this all wrong—until he whispered, “I can’t.”

I nodded, and he angled his face to look up at me.

“Leaving you last night was one of my biggest regrets,” he confessed.

“Letting you leave was mine.”

Noah took the final step that brought us within inches of each other.

“Nothing can come of this,” he said, and placed his hand on the lapel of my robe. “But I don’t think I can walk away again. My heart, my head—it all wants you.”

I placed my hand over the top of his, curling my fingers around it and bringing it up to my mouth. I placed a kiss on his palm.

“I just want to spend time with you,” I said, giving voice to my deepest vulnerabilities. “If that’s all this is, or all you want to give, I’m greedy. I’ll take it. I spend all day, every day, talking to people I have to talk to. But you’re the only person I want to talk to. The one person I look forward to talking to.”

Noah’s expression softened, his eyes roving over my face but before he could deny me, I rushed out, “I know this isn’t going to be easy. I just…want to know you. I want you to know me. The real me.”

“Nicholas.”

“Yes.”

Noah reached up to trail his fingers down my cheek. “The man who reads poetry at night, and likes mixed berries for breakfast?”

A slow smile curved my lips, and he gently traced the shape until I kissed the tip of his finger. “Yes. That’s the one.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling the way I loved. “I like that man.”

“Good, because he likes you too.”

He took in a deep breath and dropped his hand. “That might be true. But right now, that man has a meeting.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” I turned to look at the suit, then back to Noah. “It might be best if I put that on myself.”

Noah’s eyes lowered down my robe, slower than they had when I first stepped out of the shower, and then he nodded.