Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(141)

“Dominic cares a great deal about you, too,” she said stoutly, resting her clasped hands on his knee.

“Interfering old sod,” he muttered. Still, he didn’t contradict her.

“And you get along very well with your cousin Aden, and with Vivien, as well. Really, when one thinks about it, you have quite a lot of people who care about you.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “Justine, do not imagine that you’re going to domesticate me. Dominic has tried that more than once and it’s not going to work.”

“No, I suppose not.” She sighed, dropping her gaze as she opened her fingers on his muscled thigh. “But it would be nice if you could at least realize that you’re not as alone in the world as you think you are.”

His hand trapped her fingers, holding them against his thigh. The muscles under her fingertips were as hard as granite. With the edge of his other hand, he tipped up her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“What about you, my wife? How do you feel about me?” he challenged.

His eyes glittered with a fierce, complex emotion she couldn’t read. But he clearly wanted something from her—no, needed something from her—that she suspected had been missing from his life for a long time. He would deny it if she spoke its true name, but that didn’t mean he didn’t yearn for it all the same.

She felt the sting of tears as she stared into his hard, handsome face. He was so proud, so determined to show the world he needed nothing and no one to make his way. But Justine knew his secrets now, and understood something of the boy that had become the man and the boy that lived in him still.

“I care for you, Griffin,” she whispered. Her heart beat so hard she could barely force the words from her throat. “Very much.”

He searched her face, his gaze hot and devouring. He might never be able to declare his love for her—or even recognize the feeling—but she knew that he would protect her and even cherish her because she now belonged to him. Rationally, it made no sense, but it was who he was.


His hand moved from her chin to her cheek, cradling it. “I’m very glad to hear that,” he said in a husky voice.

He bent to her, and his lips whispered across her mouth in a kiss so tender it teased out those incipient tears. She closed her eyelids against them, afraid he would think her a sentimental fool. But what she felt had nothing to do with girlish sentiment and everything to do with love.

With a moan, she opened her mouth to him as she dug her fingers into his muscled thigh. Desire swept through her, making her shake. But before she could move into his embrace, he slipped his hands under her arms and stood up, bringing her with him. Before she knew what was happening, he’d lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Since the interrogation has now concluded,” he said, heading for the door, “I’d like very much to make love to my wife.”

“Oh, very well,” she said, flustered. She probably should object, given how unsettled things remained between them, but she found herself unable to come up with any logical reasons to do so.

Griffin glanced down at her and paused at the door. He raised his eyebrows. “We are finished with the questions, are we not?”

“I do have one more,” she said apologetically. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” he said with exaggerated patience as he juggled her briefly to open the door. “Go right ahead, my dear.”

She touched the faint scar running down the side of his face. “How did you get this?”