“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head, too afraid to speak. Too afraid of what she might say.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He slid inside her and she let her head fall back, pleasure coursing through her as he filled her, as the empty ache that had been plaguing her abated. Each thrust of his body into hers pushed her higher, made her feel as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, afraid to jump. Afraid not to.
When she gave in, let go, she felt herself falling, pleasure rushing up to greet her. Too much. Too fast. She gripped his shoulders, trying to find an anchor, something to keep her from losing herself entirely.
Not even that worked. The world fragmented, broke apart. She broke too, along with everything around her, slipping away from time and place as pleasure filled in the cracks, taking the place of reality, becoming more important, more real than anything around her. More important than the future, than the past. There was only now. Only this.
She wished it could last forever.
She clung to it, even as things slowly started to right themselves. As the fragments were put back together, as it all came back, clear and sharp.
The carpet was against her back, the fire hot on one side of her. Mak was above her, his breathing harsh as he shuddered out his own release, every muscle in his body tense, her name on his lips.
I love you.
The words burst into her mind, loud, undeniable. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore them, tried to shut them out as they echoed through her body.
She wasn’t supposed to love him. She was only supposed to want him. To take his body, to satisfy a physical desire. She wasn’t supposed to feel that she would die if he wasn’t with her. Wasn’t supposed to feel whole for the first time.
It couldn’t work. It wouldn’t. Even if everything was set aside that her father had planned for her, Mak had made it very clear that he didn’t want love. Didn’t need it.
But all those things that had left him littered with scars, they were the reasons she loved him. Now that she’d acknowledged it, she couldn’t seem to stop.
He pulled her into his arms, and he didn’t speak. She said a silent prayer of thanks and curled up against him, listening to his heart pounding against her cheek.
This was all she would ever have of him. And it would have to be enough.
Somehow, it would have to be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“YOUR father called.” Mak was standing at the edge of the living room, backlit by the light in the entryway, the hard lines of his body visible. He was naked. Gorgeous. A fine first sight.
Eva came to full consciousness slowly, groggy and, she was certain, with carpet print embedded into her cheek. She and Mak had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, both of them too lethargic to make their way upstairs.
“What did he say?” she asked, sitting, tugging the picnic blanket, which they’d commandeered as makeshift comforter for the night, up to her breasts.
“He’s ready for us to come back. The media haven’t dropped the story, and what he thinks they need is your presence.” Mak’s voice was blank of emotion, his facial expression just as impossible to read.
“But I thought … I didn’t think having me there while the media was storming the castle was what anyone wanted I … I certainly don’t want to get hounded by reporters.” She didn’t want her time with Mak to end. That was the main problem. Reporters didn’t really scare her, but going back to her cloistered life at the palace, that did frighten her.
“I … will you stay?” she asked.
Silence hung between them.
When Mak spoke, he spoke slowly. “I’m not through protecting you. Now that the media might hassle you, I suppose there’s even more of a reason for me to be there.”
“And I might run away. Or cause more scandal,” she said, looking for reasons to reinforce his being there.
He laughed, a hollow sound. “Somehow I don’t believe that. But I will stay.”
“Good,” she said.
She could face everything, even the press, if Mak was there. And even if they could never sleep in each other’s arms again, she would rather have him close by than not have him at all.