Bedroom Diplomacy(13)

She frowned. “What about him?”

“After he introduced us, he and I had a talk. About you. And he warned me, in no uncertain terms, that I am to consider you off-limits.”





Four


Rowena felt as if she’d been sucker-punched in the stomach.

The shock of Colin’s words, her father’s sheer gall, rendered her speechless. She honestly did not know what to say. And even if she did, her throat was so tight with anger, her vocal chords were frozen.

Her father controlled where she worked, where she lived, the decisions regarding her son’s medical care. Now he wanted to control who she could see socially? What would be next? Her clothes? Her brand of shampoo? Would he keep going until he’d stolen every last shred of her independence?

For over three years now she had played by his rules, doing and saying what was expected of her, paying penance for her sins over and over. And he still wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t let her have a life of her own. What did she have to do to make him trust her? For him to see that she’d changed?

Or maybe all this time she had been wrong, maybe this had nothing to do with her proving herself, with him trusting her. Power hungry as he had always been, maybe it was simply that he liked to keep her firmly under his thumb, under his control.

In that moment, she resented the senator more than she ever believed possible.

“I think he’s just worried about you,” Colin said.

Her voice tight, Rowena replied, “Trust me, Colin, that’s not it. Not at all.”

“I’m so sorry,” Colin said. “I can see that you’re upset.”

She took a deep, calming breath. “Let’s get one thing very clear. Who I choose to see socially is none of my father’s damn business.”

“I don’t think so either, but I can’t risk him pulling his support for the treaty. We’ve come so far already.”

“He said he would pull his support?”

“Not directly, but he insinuated it.”

She was wrong—she actually could resent him more. She was so angry, so embarrassed and humiliated and disgusted—with her father and herself.

“Rowena?” He touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, brushing away an angry tear with the back of her hand. No. She wasn’t okay. Her father had crossed the line. One he could never uncross. And the worst part was that she had let him.

But no more. This is where she drew her line. She was going to get away. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she would figure it out. Her dignity and her pride depended on it. And it depended on something else.

“Colin, do you want to kiss me?”

He had this look, like maybe he thought it was a trick question.

“It’s okay if you say no. I just want the truth.”

“Yes, I do. But—”

“And I want you to. For the first time in over three years I met someone who I would like to kiss. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone, most of all my own father, tell me that I can’t. No one else knows we’re here, and I’m not going to tell anyone. So, if you really want to, just this one time, kiss me.”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers, and slid his hand through her hair to cradle the back of her head. Her heart pounded and her breath hitched as he leaned in, tilting her head….

Her eyes drifted closed as his lips brushed over hers. Once. Twice. More of a tease than anything. Then it was over.

He backed away, gazing down at her.

That’s it? Seriously?

She didn’t just want a kiss, she wanted a kiss.

“Colin, no offense, but I’ve waited over three years for this. Please tell me you can do better than that.”

Maybe it was all that military training, or he was a ninja, but damn did he move fast. One second he was standing there looking at her, then she blinked and she was in his arms and he was kissing her. Really kissing her. And it was very much worth the wait.

She slid her arms around his neck, tunneled her fingers through his hair. Everything about him felt so solid and sturdy, but his touch, as he cradled her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks and ears, was so gentle.

He pulled away slowly this time, as if he knew he had to stop but didn’t really want to. And as their lips finally parted, she felt limp and drowsy, as if she could melt into a puddle right there at his feet.

“How was that?” he asked.

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“I think that’s the first time a woman has thanked me for kissing her. Though I’m not sure I deserved it.”

“Why not?”

The corners of his lips tilted upward. “I think I can do better.”

Better than that? She honestly didn’t think it got any better than that. But if he thought he could, who was she to disagree?