“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.
His hands were hot and rough on the bare skin at her waist, his body hotter, harder against hers. She could feel the heavy length of his arousal pressing against her stomach and she arched into it, into him. She’d dreamt of this, of this kind of passion, this kind of need.
But it had been only that. Fantasies with the hazy edge of dreams around them, softening them, holding them at arm’s length. There was nothing soft about this. Nothing distant. It was all harsh breathing, heavy heartbeats and uncontrolled groans of pleasure. It wasn’t refined. It wasn’t civilized.