Page 12 of King of Ashes
A part of me wants nothing else. I’ve carried the weight of sorrow for so long, I need her to ease me. The other part wishes it would never happen. Losing her a second time is something I can’t deal with. She can hate me for the rest of her life, but she’ll be my wife.
I walk past him, down the stairs and out into the night––a thief carrying away his treasured jewel.
My men have returned, bowing their heads as I hop into the back of a Jeep and they drive us away.
Back home, I lay her on the bed and hurry to bring her a glass of water and an Advil for the impending headache.
As I get into the shower, relief mixes with dread.
It is what it fucking is.
The reality of her surpasses any dream. I’ll face her wrath rather than live without her.
I stayed away even though it slowly killed me, but her proposition snapped my control, hope blossoming in the cemetery of my chest. She sought me out, so maybe her subconscious led her toward me, knowing I am her man, the one she’s supposed to be with. Or maybe it’s all crap I am telling myself to ease the sting of guilt.
The warm water does nothing to soothe the tension carved into my muscles or the pain seared into my heart, while the cure to all my aches lies in my bed—unaware.
Toweling myself dry, I slide a hand over the mirror, erasing the condensation. Staring back at my reflection, I nod, at peace with my decision.
Then I put on some boxer briefs and slip under the covers.
In bed with her, my body buzzes with restless energy. I can’t take my eyes off her, gorging on her beauty to replenish my empty core. Propping myself on my elbow, I brush a strand of her silky hair from her face for an unobstructed view and press down a kiss on her temple.
This might very well be the last night of peace. Tomorrow, the tug-of-war will begin—a war of pretense, a war of domination, a war between lost lovers.
I count the hours until she wakes up. Hopefully, by then I will bury this avalanche of feelings she ignites in me.
“Sorry, mi sol, this is the only way,” I rasp and hold her to my chest tight as if daring anyone to take her from me.
Closing my eyes, I drift to sleep, the dream carrying me to the place I built for us. I was so proud the day I showed her our house, the one I thought would become our home. It was our refuge, the place where we could love each other freely.
Her father was a man I deeply respected, someone I was proud to call my future father-in-law. I cared for him, yet instead of honoring the deal, his greed caused a slaughter, laughing in my face as he left me to die.
A splash of cold liquid hits my face. I scoot up in bed, ready to attack when I see her by my side, the empty glass of water in one hand while she props the other on her waist.
Her smile is deceptively sweet as she says, “I could have killed you so easily.”
“Why didn’t you?” My voice sounds gruff with sleep, and I rub a hand down my face to clear it.
It would be the merciful thing to do, but I am cursed to stay alive, a ghost roaming his empire.
“Too easy.”
I burst into laughter, and she glares at me. “But I can change my mind.”
“Now, now, we’re engaged.”
She glances at her ring before she snaps her gaze back to me. “You made your point. I must return home and prepare for our unfortunate union.”
“Unfortunate, huh?” I ask, crossing my arms behind my neck, causing the sheet to slide down and reveal my chest.
I work out hard to stay in shape, but damn, her perusing my body with obvious attraction inflates my ego like nothing else. Her rich brown eyes have a life of their own, a mirror of her emotions—vivid, mesmerizing, drowning me with no effort.
I smirk. “Like what you see?”
She waves me off, but her flushed face betrays her. “You don’t look bad, but I’ve seen better.”
Her bite makes me want to bend her over this bed and spank her ass.
