Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(99)

Tomorrow!

“The point is, this is moving too fast.”

His tone was less gentle when he noted, “You say this often.”

“Because you move too fast often.”

“We clearly disagree on this,” he returned.

“Apollo, it’s been a week.”

“And again, I will state we share the same table every evening and the same bed every night. I don’t understand why it has to be in separate homes.”

“Because there are children involved,” I hissed.

“And this factors how?” he shot back, definitely less gentle and getting impatient again.

But I felt my own brows rise.

“How?”

“That’s what I asked,” he returned. “You see, my dove, it isn’t you saying good-bye to your children and riding through the snow every night.”

All right. Fine.

I could see that.

“Okay then, if that’s a pain in your ass, and I could see that it would be night after night, then I’ll sneak in the house after they go to bed.”

He’s brows knit. “Sneak?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you sneak?”

He was crazy.

“Because, honey, I’d be arriving to crawl in your bed with you and do the nasty.”

His jaw got hard and his arms got tight. “What we do in bed is not nasty.”

Uh-oh.

Obviously, he got the wrong idea about that.

I shook my head quickly and set about righting that wrong. “No. That’s not what I meant. It’s a turn of phrase in my world.”

He dropped his arms and took a step back. “It doesn’t surprise me that those of your world would use that word for lovemaking. However they are wrong and you are wrong for using it to refer to what we do.”

Now I could see he was getting angry so I erased the space he put between us and placed my hand on his chest. “You’re right. I’d never thought of it like that, but you’re right and it absolutely does not define in any way what we do in bed or how I think of it.”

“Yet you discuss sneaking into my home to avoid my children knowing you’re here and in my bed, so you must hold some scorn or guilt for what we do,” he returned.

“No,” I shook my head again, leaning deeper into him. “Not at all. But they’re kids Apollo. Young kids. And they don’t need to know their father has a bed partner.”

“I won’t exactly be sharing our play second for second at the breakfast table, Madeleine,” he stated, his voice turning cold. “But to share your bed with a woman you care about is not something to be ashamed of.”

“No, of course not, but—”

“And I’ll not communicate that by hiding who you are to me.”

That was nice, so nice.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t moving too fast.

“That’s sweet, honey, but—”

“And I’ll not have it communicated to my children…in any way…that the act of love between two agreeable adults is something to hide because it’s shameful.”

“Right, I get that, sweetheart. I totally do. But—”

“If you get it, then you move in tomorrow,” he declared.

“Listen—”

“Tomorrow, Madeleine,” he decreed.

Unfortunately, he was cutting me off and being arrogant and bossy all at the same time and this was serving to piss me off.

“Okay,” I began, “you know your children better than me, obviously, so let’s just say this is moving too fast for me.”

“I do not understand how,” he returned.

“Apollo,” with effort, I controlled the snap in my voice, “I haven’t had the chance to figure out what I’m going to do with my life, what with war breaking out and everything.”

“And this requires you being in the dower house?”

“It requires time to think.” When he opened his mouth, I hastened to add, “Alone time.”

“Maddie, the children are with their tutors all day and I’m equally busy. You’ll have plenty of alone time.”

“You don’t understand,” I pointed out the obvious.

“No, I do not,” he agreed to the obvious. “What I do understand is that whatever you’re going to do with your life, you’ll be doing it as my wife, living with me and my children in this bloody house. So you’re very correct. I don’t understand why you need to be in a home ten minutes away to figure that out delaying the inevitable, that being moving in here.”

I tried to go gentle when I stated, “It isn’t the inevitable. None of that has been decided, Apollo.”

I didn’t go gently enough.

I knew this when his eyes blanked, his face turned to stone and he asked, “And your choices are vast?”

Oh boy.

Now I was getting mad.

“Apollo—”

“So vast, it requires great blocks of alone time to consider all your options?”

“What I’m saying is—”

“And those options include options that are better than what I give to you and could give to you”—he swept out an arm then leaned into me— “if you’d bloody move in.”