A Nordic King(74)

My heart skips at that and he lifts the covers.

He’s completely, beautifully naked with a half-hard cock at the ready, and I’m only in my flimsy night shirt, so I know this is a recipe for disaster in the whole “I want to take things slow” suggestion.

But I get in bed anyway, curling up against his chest as his arm goes around my shoulder, holding me tight to him.

I close my eyes, hearing his heart beat beneath my ear. It’s going fast and strong and I’m sure he’s having to hold himself back. I feel like a total tease coming in here like this and then saying I want it slow.

“I know you just fucked me in the hallway earlier today,” I say to him, glancing up at his eyes. “But I just want to…”

“Aurora,” he says as he holds me closer to him, kissing the top of my head. “You never have to explain anything. I’m just glad you’re here. I thought about going to your room, but I didn’t want to be pushy.”

“I usually like it when you’re pushy.”

“Mmmm. I suppose I still owe you another spanking.”

I grin against his chest. “Yes, you do. Something tells me that there is plenty of time to make up for it.”

“There is. We have a lot to make up for.”

We do. Months of dancing around each other, circling like wolves, too afraid to make the first move. Which is why I don’t mind waiting tonight and just being with him this way, absorbing his words and his touch and his smell and his steady heartbeat. I know we’re going to fuck like rabbits for the next foreseeable future.

I trace my fingers in figure eights along his chest, lost in thought about so many things. The one thing I want to talk about the most is the one thing we shouldn’t. What’s next. The knowledge that we could never really become anything beyond this moment. That was one of the reasons why it took me so long to even admit how I felt about him. It was futile.

“You know, the other night,” I say in such a way that he knows which night I’m talking about. “You’d said to me it had been a long time. How long had it been?”

He stiffens, and I look up to see him frowning at me. “Why do you want to know that?”

I shrug with one shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

“Always curious.” He sighs. “Well, it’s not really a secret. I haven’t been with anyone since Helena.”

Oh. Wow. And of course, it doesn’t surprise me that much, considering I have cyber-stalked the fuck out of this man and I could never dig up any dirt or info on who he might have dated since his wife. It’s because he wasn’t with anyone at all.

Fuck. That puts a bit of pressure on me. I’m his first lay since he lost her? Am I the sign that his mourning period is over? Or is that presumptuous of me, too?

“You’re speechless?” he asks. “I guess I should take that as a compliment.”

“I just…I’m just so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just my dick.”

“I mean that as in, I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sorry it’s taken you this long to get over her.”

He looks at me sharply. There I go, saying the wrong thing again.

“Sorry,” I say quickly. “That sounded callous. What I meant was…I’m just sorry you had to go through that. And even if you’re not over her, well, I mean, I don’t blame you.”

Though, god, I hope he’s over her. I hope I’m not just a bandage, salve on a wound.

Oh shit. What if I am?

“Aurora…” he says slowly, licking his lips. He sighs and lets his head flop back into the pillow, staring at the ceiling. “We didn’t love each other.”

I stare at him, stunned.

What?

“What?”

He runs his hand over his face and blinks. “It’s true. We didn’t love each other. At least, she never loved me. She pretended to, to win me over, to get the crown. And I was a dumb fool, eager for anything she could give me. Eager for someone to love me, as pathetic as that sounds. So, I fell in love with her and we got married and we had two beautiful children and then the truth became my reality.”

Holy moly. This is the absolute last thing I ever expected him to say. They were the star couple of the royal families, so handsome and beautiful and good. She with her charities, he with his rally driving and sailing. They were so damn perfect.

And it had been a lie.

“She never loved me,” he goes on. “And eventually, because you can only give as much as you get, I stopped loving her. We became two people who lived in the same house and that was it. We weren’t friends. We weren’t business partners. We weren’t even parents. We both just sort of managed the girls without consulting each other about it. I feared I screwed them up for life.”

“You didn’t,” I tell him, reaching up and running my fingers over his strong face. He kisses the palm of my hand and I melt. “You didn’t screw them up at all. Those girls are smart and lovely and kind.”

“Because you are smart and lovely and kind. You’ve done a better job raising them than she ever did.”

I shrink a little, not feeling comfortable with the way the conversation is going. “I don’t want to diminish the fact that she’s their mother and I’m not.”