A Royal World Apart(16)
“All right. I got married young. I left home.”
“And?”
“And that’s all,” he burst out. “Marina’s parents didn’t approve, and that meant leaving as soon as we possibly could to avoid her father coming to kill me. Or if not kill, seriously harm or perhaps have me sent to jail for kidnapping or whatever else he might be able to think of. I had gotten work out of the country anyway, which was for the best, for both of us. It was a dream of hers to live in Paris.” He pushed out a heavy breath “We were going to live in Paris.”
“And?” she pressed.
“And story time is over. You seem like the sort of girl who likes happy endings. This one ends badly.” He stood. “Are you finished?”
“What?” She looked down at her half-eaten soup. “Yes.”
He picked up her bowl and his and headed into the kitchen.
She watched him go, her mind turning his words over. His wife had died, of course it had ended badly.
But she wished she knew more. Wished she knew what had happened to make him who he was. Wished she could imagine that he’d been happy, just for a while. She hoped he had been. That he’d had a few years of joy with someone he loved.
But since he wouldn’t show her emotion, good or bad, she probably wouldn’t get to find out.
She tried to imagine him happy, with a real smile on his face, one that filled his eyes.
She couldn’t.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EVA settled into the hot tub and let the warm water wash over her limbs. The oval stone basin was set out on the wooden deck, overlooking the snow-capped peaks.
The steam rose, thick and curling in the crisp night air. It would have been relaxing if she wasn’t permanently tense from being near Mak.
He made her feel things, want things …
Love, she’d always wanted. And sex, yes, but always the two of them together. Mak made her not care quite so much about the L-word and that frightened her a little. Because she felt that sort of wildness in her she’d been trying to create for the past few months bubbling to the surface when he was around. Real. Out of control.
And that had never been part of her hazy plan.
Everything she’d done had been calculated, and while some of it had backfired, the bits of it she could control, she had controlled.
But that was all gone with Mak. Every bit of it.
She lifted her hand out of the water and turned it so it was palm up, watching as steam rose from her skin, feeling the cold start to penetrate the cloak of heat that had enveloped her.
“Enjoying yourself?” Mak was standing in the doorway, all lean, hard angles and exuding more sex appeal than any one person was entitled to.
“Less now,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes.” She smiled, trying to project a false positivity she didn’t feel. “It’s a lovely evening. Freezing.”
“The trick is to hurry inside when you’re done with the tub.” He pulled his hand out from behind his back. “And remember your towel.” He waved the aforementioned item back and forth.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said, slightly embarrassed. Because again, she’d betrayed herself a bit. She was distracted, and she was projecting that distraction. And thanks to her little display earlier, he was well aware that he was a part of the distraction.
“I am supposed to protect you, I imagine letting you get frostbite would negate my other efforts.”
Frostbite seemed friendly compared to some of the other trouble she could get into with him. “Possibly. No one would want to marry a princess with blue toes.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Have you heard from my father?” she asked. She didn’t really want to know. She’d never seen her father so angry. It wasn’t the yelling, because he didn’t do much yelling. It was what he didn’t say. It was the look in his eyes. That fact that he hadn’t quite been able to look at her.
And it made her wonder if even her father believed the story about her. Why not? He didn’t know her. Not really. He knew who he wanted her to be, what he wanted her to do, but he didn’t really know her. If he did, he would know that while she might go out and have drinks with a group of friends, she wasn’t going to go and get naked with them all after.
“I talked to him briefly to let him know we’d arrived. He still doesn’t know the location, neither does he want to.”
She hesitated. “Did he say anything about Bastian?”
“Concerned for the future of that alliance, are you?”
“Not especially. Well, of the possibility of it going forward.”
“He didn’t mention it.”
She blew out a breath. “No. Of course he didn’t. Why would I want to know about my future? Insignificant things like who I’m going to marry? I shouldn’t concern myself with such trivialities.”
“Here you go sounding like a spoiled child again,” he said, his tone even, maddeningly calm.
“Really? I must be a spoiled child because I have money, and because I have money, and have always had it, I should be happy, is that it?”
“Money might not buy happiness, Eva, but it buys a hell of a lot of things that keep a person alive. Some might say that brings a bit of happiness.”
“So because of other people’s problems, people who have less in the way of creature comforts, I’m not allowed to have any problems of my own? This isn’t first-world problems here, this isn’t me complaining about my flying pony refusing lay golden eggs.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You imply it. With every word. Every time you call me spoiled,” she spat. “Forgive me if simply being thought of as a collectible isn’t enough for. I can just see my father making the presentation to my gaggle of suitors: Collect three of the ten most important items in Kyonos and gain a valuable alliance! Pick from the Coat of Arms, the Crown Jewels, the Princess and this lovely settee!”
“Eva …”
“What? I’m spoiled again? To want personhood? To want to have my feelings, my desires at least matter to someone? Damn you, Mak. You’re just like the rest of them.”
She stood up, her heart pounding hard, angry tears forming in her eyes. He walked over to the hot tub as she got out and held up the towel. She wanted badly to resist the gesture but it was far too cold. He wrapped the thick white fabric around her and held her near him for a moment, his eyes locked with hers.
“I say you’re a child because of the way you go about it. If you marched into your father’s office and said to him what you just said to me, then I might respect the way you feel.”
“Right. Just walk in and tell him. And then what? I don’t … I’m afraid of losing that connection with him. What little I have …”
“And you don’t think this damaged your connection with him?”
“I’m certain it did. I already told you this wasn’t exactly my plan.”
“Regardless of your personal feelings—” He said the word as if it was an illness of some kind. “—can’t you see the benefits your marriage could provide your people? If you marry Bastian, how will your country profit?”
“Military alliances. Trade agreements.”
“And you think your personal notion of happiness outweighs that?”
“Is it wrong if I think it does? I didn’t ask to be born a princess.”
“We don’t ask for a lot of what life gives us.”
“My feet are cold,” she said. “Let me go.”
For a moment, he simply looked at her, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly. And she found herself wanting to lean into him, into his heat, into the temptation that his hard body represented. Then he released his hold on her suddenly. She stumbled back and clung to the towel, trying to get control of her breathing, hard to do when each sip of air chilled her lungs. She turned away, walking past him and back into the chalet.
She took the stairs two at a time and stalked down the hall, headed to her room.
“Trust me, Eva. Feelings are overrated.”
She turned back sharply. Mak was at the top of the stairs, his face shadowed.
Anger fired through her veins, making her reckless. Or perhaps just heightening her honesty. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are a robot, not a man. You feel nothing. I could never live that way and I would never want to. Maybe if you were capable of feeling you would understand.”
He stalked toward her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his lip curling into a snarl. She backed against the wall and he stopped in front of her, his palm planted above her head. “You think I have no emotions? No desires?” She couldn’t answer, the air pulled from her body, deserting her. “You’re very, very wrong.”
He dipped his head, his lips claiming hers. Hot. Insistent. She sucked in a breath and he took advantage of the action, dipping his tongue into her mouth. She closed her eyes, the sensations shocking her, thrilling her. She could taste his anger, but she could taste his passion too. And she wanted more of it. All of it.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, the towel falling at her feet, and held him closer. His arms came around her waist, his body pressing into her, the wall hard and stable behind her. And thank God for it, or she would have lost her balance completely.