“Somehow, I doubt that.”
He wanted to touch her, to offer some sort of comfort. But his intentions would be far from honorable. He did want to offer comfort of some kind, but more than that, he just wanted to feel her skin beneath his hands. To touch the flame, quickly, to see if he could do it without getting burned.
But if he did, it would not stop at his fingertips brushing her cheek, or his lips brushing hers. No. If he touched her again … he would not be able to stop.
Which made the distance even more important.
“I have some calls to catch up on.” It was true. There were always calls to make. But the urgency had more to do with her than anything else.
“Okay,” she said.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay,” she said again.
“Did you want … something else?” he asked, trying to figure out her mood. Trying and failing.
“No. I said I was fine. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She wanted him to stay, that much he knew. But if he did … right now if he stayed he wasn’t certain he could trust the strength of his control. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if his honor was stronger than his desire.
It was probably stupid to dress up for dinner, but it was her birthday. Although, rather than the customary glittery ball gown she opted for something more subdued. Shorter. Clingier. A little sexier …
Even if it didn’t change anything, she liked it when Mak looked at her as though she was a delicacy, rare and tempting. No matter how big a tease it was, she felt compelled to chase the feeling. Even if there was no hope of anything ever coming from it.
It felt good to be wanted.
It was more than that though. Bastian was attracted to her. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in the tension of his body every time they danced. The men she’d been with at the casino had been attracted to her too.
And while all of those men were decently good-looking, they didn’t heat her blood the way Mak did. They didn’t make her feel. Mak made her aware of all kinds of things she’d never been aware of before meeting him. Both physically and emotionally.
She’d never felt someone else’s pain before meeting him. Had never wanted so badly to heal someone else’s hurts. If she was honest, she’d always been self-centered. Her life was conducive to it. Her family didn’t have a lot of time for her, her mother was gone, her friends were seasonal.
That left her with staff mainly, and as long as whims didn’t extend beyond the palace walls, they were met. She had a lot of time to focus on her own needs, her own wants. Much more time than she’d spent focusing on the needs of others.
But Mak tore her focus outward. All of her feelings felt extracted from her, laid out, bare and raw, just for him.
It scared her. And it made her feel alive.
She walked into the kitchen and her stomach did a free fall when she saw Mak standing in front of the stove, cutting cooked lamb into thin strips.
“You’re cooking?”
He shrugged. “Liesel did most of it. I’m just doing the finishing touches so she and Jan could get down the mountain before dark.”
“That was … nice of you.”
He looked more approachable in a tight black T-shirt, and dark jeans. His feet were bare, which seemed … intimate somehow. Something about his more-relaxed self made her even more nervous. Maybe because it amped her attraction up even more.
Something she hadn’t realized was possible.
“You’re so surprised that I can cut my own meat? I can cook, you know. I spend a lot of time preparing my own meals.”
It seemed as though he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.
“What?” she asked.
“What?” he countered, taking the platter from the counter, laden with lamb and pita bread, a small bowl of tzatziki in the center.
“You wanted to say more.”
He shrugged, the corners of his mouth tugging down. “It’s your birthday.”
“So. That doesn’t mean you can’t tell me something.” He walked out of the kitchen, heading to the dining room. She followed him. “In fact, I think that’s what I want.”
“What do you want?” he asked, setting the platter on the large wooden dining table that was positioned next to floor-to-ceiling windows, making the most of the view. The setting sun threw bits of pink glitter onto the snow, creating the impression of shimmering heat on ice.