She didn’t really know how she felt about a truce with the man she’d just had sex with. She didn’t know how she felt at all.
He stuck his hand out, as though she was meant to shake it and all she could do was stare. “A truce?” she repeated, sounding dumb.
“It’s better than fighting, don’t you think?”
But not very honest. Not when she felt all jumbled up. “Okay.” She extended her hand and wrapped her fingers around his, shaking it slowly. This was silly, but it meant she was able to stop and collect herself. Shore up her defenses. It meant neither of them had to be particularly honest.
She was quite comfortable with that.
“Good,” he said, releasing his hold on her. “Now, let’s go. I think we both agree that a day at the beach has been had and there’s no need to go any further.”
No need for him to pass the site of his mother’s accident. No need for them to confront what had passed between them. No need for them to talk about why he felt so dirty. Why he’d felt the need to walk into the ocean to get clean.
“Yes,” she said. “I think I’m quite ready to go back.”
He smiled, and she knew that he knew, as well as she did, what they were both doing.
Hiding.
“Excellent.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
XANDER COULDN’T GET his tie right. And who the hell cared? He hated all of this. Hated that he had to dress for dinner because Stavros had invited heads of state and all other manner of dignitaries Xander could care less about.
Not when he was highly concerned with his feelings for his fiancée. Or rather, how his fiancée had felt when she’d been naked underneath him. Being with her yesterday had been a revelation. He swore succinctly and tossed his tie down onto the bed.
She had been... There were no words for the blinding flash of perfect oblivion and clarity he’d found when he’d pushed inside her body.
And wasn’t that a damned funny thing? He’d always known sex had power. It had the power to wipe his worries from his mind. The power to make him feel. To bring his life, the emptiness of it, into sharp perspective the moment the buzz from his orgasm faded.
But this was different. He hadn’t felt alone when he’d been with her.
Maybe it was because they were both so very much the same, though he doubted she would ever admit to that.
He looked down at the tie and frowned. Then picked it up.
He could call a servant, but he hated that nonsense. He probably needed a valet or some such, no doubt his father had one.
But that wouldn’t serve his purposes for the moment. Sure, it would get his tie on straight, but it wouldn’t serve his purposes.
He flung his bedroom door open and stalked down the corridor. The servants were very good at ignoring him and his moods. But then, he supposed that was part of earning their salary.
He opened the door to Layna’s room without knocking, hoping he might find her there. He was not disappointed.
“I need help,” he said, his tone as stern as the walk he’d used to bring him here.
Layna frowned from her position on the bed. “You have a very bad habit of barging into my room.”
“Since when does a fiancé need permission? And I have now seen all of your body, so let’s not even pretend that your modesty is offended.”
“Just because you’ve seen it once doesn’t mean you have ongoing permission to see it whenever you like,” she said.
“Of course it does.” He sat down in a chair by the bed, one leg out straight, his arms on the rests. “I am to be king. I will see what I like when I like to see it.”
She arched her brows. “Has being in your childhood home caused this regression or do you just always behave like a recalcitrant boy?”
“I need help putting my tie on,” he growled. He was not going to dignify her question with a response.
“Then why didn’t you call someone?”
“What the hell is the point of a wife who doesn’t want me to see her naked and who won’t tie my damned tie for me?”
“I’m not really sure, actually. Maybe it’s the time for you to rethink your proposal.”
“I won’t.” He stood up and walked toward her, draping his tie over his shoulders. “Fix this.”
She let out a long, exasperated breath and gripped both ends of the tie. “It’s been about a million years since I’ve done this. I did it for my father a couple of times. He felt it would be a good skill to know.”
“For such a time as this, I should think.”
“Clearly, yes, the idea was for me to be able to serve the every whim of my crabby husband. But you are not my husband yet, don’t forget it.”