Not Fit for a King?

“Yes, more drama,” he answered, lips at the base of her throat, breath warm on the small hollow there. “More lies. But I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“You promised me four days, Zale. We still have two days. Give me those days—”

“No.”

“Please.” “Absolutely not.”

“But isn’t the Amethyst & Ice Ball tomorrow night? I know it’s a huge fundraiser of the year for your personal charity. Won’t it seem strange to not have me there?”

“It’d be worse trying to get through the evening acting like I like you.”

Hannah flinched.

He released her and moved back a step, setting her free. “That was harsh, and I hate being cruel, but, Emmeline, we both know that you are not right for me, or good for me.”

She realized then she was fighting a losing battle. Zale was finished with her. He did intend to send her away. And maybe this was the right thing to happen. Maybe this was the way it was to end.

She could leave in the morning and Zale would never know the truth … he’d never know that it wasn’t Emmeline who was here, but Hannah. He’d never have to know he’d been deceived.

He turned his back on her, moving to the stone balustrade to look out over the city that glimmered with light. “I’m tired,” he said after a moment. “Tired of talking. Tired of arguing. Tired of trying to make this work.”

She could feel his exhaustion, too. It was in his voice, the slump of his shoulders, the bite of his words. “I understand.”

“I will phone your father in the morning and tell him we’ve realized it won’t work. I’ll tell him it was a mutual decision and that our differences were just too great to overcome.”

“Okay.”

He looked at her from over his shoulder. “It’s better this way, doing it now, instead of waiting until the last minute to cancel the wedding.”

“I agree.”

He dropped his head, closed his eyes, fingers digging into the stone wall. “So why does it feel like hell?”

A lump filled her throat and her eyes burned. “Because despite our differences, we did have feelings for each other.”

He drew a slow, heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

She went to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back. “It’s my fault. It’s you that needs to forgive me.”

He covered her hands with one of his. “It’s late,” he said roughly. “We should go to bed. The morning will be here soon enough.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“That’s just asking for trouble.”

She kissed his back. Zale was warm and felt so good. But then everything about him was strong. Solid. Like the tough Texas men she’d known growing up, men with integrity, men who understood honor. “I won’t cause trouble,” she whispered.

“I just want to be near you. Just want to sleep with you one last time.”

“I won’t change my mind, Emmeline. You’ll still leave in the morning.” “I will.”

He was silent so long she was sure he was going to refuse her, but then he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her palm. “Then we’ll spend our last night together and say our goodbyes in the morning.”

They made love in his big bed with the brocade fabric panels down creating a cocoon for just the two of them. It was as if the rest of the world had fallen away and they were the only two who existed.

In the darkness Zale loved her slowly, holding back his own orgasm until he’d brought her to a climax, once and then again. Tonight there was a sweetness in their lovemaking, a poignancy in every kiss and caress. Closing her eyes, Hannah savored his hard body stretched over hers, his skin so warm and delicious to touch.

When she came a second time, her heart seemed to shatter along with her body and it was all she could do to hold back the tears, and keep him from feeling her pain. The pain was considerable.

She loved him, loved him, loved him and he’d never know it.

Tears burned beneath her lids and she shuddered in his arms, her body rippling with aftershocks even as her heart exploded with fresh pain.

Forgive me, Zale, she whispered silently, kissing his chest, just above where his heart would be.

Forgive me for not being who you needed me to be.

Zale couldn’t sleep even though his body was spent. His mind wouldn’t turn off. His thoughts raced. His chest ached.

Zale had always needed order. He did not do well with uncertainty. For him, ambivalence was akin to chaos. And chaos was a synonym for loss.

Loss of peace. Loss of focus. Loss of control.

And Zale needed control. He needed to be in control. Always. And the few times he wasn’t in control terrible things happened, things with a tragic outcome.