Page 33 of Back to Claim His Crown
She studied her own fingers for a second before shooting him another coy look from beneath her lashes. ‘Amongst other things, yes.’
He chuckled. ‘Ice baths bring mental clarity,’ he explained. ‘I need to think.’
‘Oh? Have you forgotten how?’
‘Around you, it seems I have.’
She gaped for a split-second, then smiled. ‘I will take that as a compliment.’
He reached for a towel, hiding his reaction to her before standing up. To his immense pleasure, she didn’t step away—she couldn’t. Apparently she was transfixed by his bare chest. Yeah, sometimes a man had to play dirty—with whatever cards he held.
‘You’re cold,’ she muttered distractedly as he stepped nearer.
‘Then help me warm up,’ he breathed. ‘Kiss me, Zara.’
She did. His skin heated the second it touched hers. But after the merest moment she shivered and pushed back on him. Reluctantly he stepped back, meeting her beautiful, baleful blue eyes.
‘You don’t play fair,’ she muttered.
No. He didn’t. He never really had.
Zara sat in the library, quietly trying to ignore the fact that frustration was killing her. Lucian been away from the palace all day—welcomed with thousands cheering in the streets. She felt absurdly jealous of them. She wanted that time with him—because there could only be a little left. She had to leave soon.
So she wanted to changehismind because there were already onerous limits upon them. She understood his rationale and yes, to anyone on the outside, the two of them tumbling into a hot-blooded affair would be insane, given her uncertain future and the public pressures he faced. But the intensity with which she wanted him was like nothing she’d ever felt and, frankly, she feared she’d never feel it again. No other man had ever been as attractive to her and, sure, she’d not met many but no man in the world was like Lucian.
And she wanted to feel as if she finally had her own life in her own hands. That she could actually get thisonething she actually, really wanted. That she could be independent and strong in making choices for herself before she left here for good.
She had more of an idea now. She didn’t want to ask Lucian for financial help, given things had got complicated between them personally. It was embarrassing but she was going to have to reach out elsewhere. She couldn’t stay in Monrayne, nor could she return to Dolrovia. So she was going to draft a letter to a distant cousin of her father to ask for a small loan and hope she’d agree. Then she’d go to England. It would be far enough away and big enough to give her a little anonymity. She’d take on an unskilled job, study in the evenings and repay the loan as soon as she could. People did that all the world over. She could too. And there were plenty of enormous old houses that needed management—that was what she was good at and, honestly, she’d liked her old castle far more than her family at times. A bubble of enthusiasm lifted her low spirits. She could definitely do that.
‘Hello, Zara.’ He tipped her face back and kissed her thoroughly.
She was so surprised she couldn’t speak. She hadn’t even heard him walk into the room.
He laughed as he pulled away. ‘My manners are improving, yes?’
‘You call those manners?’ The man was taking liberties. ‘I’m not your therapy dog who you can pet for comfort and then just ignore whenever you feel like it.’
‘Ignore?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘What’s happened to put you in such a snit?’
‘A snit?’
‘Yes. A mood. Has something happened?’
‘Since when do you care?’
‘Wow. Okay. Won’t ask again. Will just go away quietly and consume dinner alone.’
She glared at him. The last thing she wanted was for him to retreat into silence.
‘Stupid article—’ she opted for the least of her concerns ‘—from my stupid country. I am a disappointment to the entire nation now, not just my family.’
He gestured dismissively at the tablet on the table. ‘Why do youstillread them?’
‘As if you don’t?’
‘I only do because I need to be aware of the mood, whether there are any rumblings. It’s an intelligence-gathering exercise. You’re out of this now, you don’t need to bother.’
‘But I’m the one they’re judging.’
