I moved forward so that I was in her space, and she raised her chin at me, glowering as I spoke. “Sparrow, it wasn’t your fault.”
“For somebody who is heir to the throne, you sure do not understand what it means to give orders. Because whatever order I give is what my men need to follow. Therefore, whatever happens afterward is on my shoulders. Maybe you don’t understand,” she said after a moment, narrowing her eyes at me. “Maybe it’s only Roman who understands. You don’t get to give orders, do you?”
I ignored the barb because I knew she was hurting. And she was right. Roman did give orders. He did work with the council. I was just the spare. And yet, it didn’t matter in that moment. The only thing that mattered was Sparrow, and maybe that should worry me, but it didn’t.
“Sparrow, you don’t have to blame yourself. You had intel, and it didn’t pan out the way you needed it to, but everyone’s fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. We made it out.”
She searched my face, her eyes wide. “Why are you acting as if you weren’t part of this? As if I hadn’t almost hurt you too?”
I met her gaze and slowly brushed my thumb along her lips. She smiled at me and then softened almost immediately, as if she couldn’t figure out what she was supposed to be thinking. Good, because I didn’t know what I was supposed to be thinking either.
“It’s not your fault.”
She shook her head. “That’s the thing, Breck. It is. It was my decision, and I’m dealing with the consequences.”
“But the consequences are only that we’re still looking. Nix isn’t going to be in hiding for much longer.” I practically growled the words.
“And how is it you seem to know this?” she asked, clearly not believing me. Well, I didn’t know if I believed myself either.
“Because I’m that good at my job. There’s no way I’ll let that man hide for long. He doesn’t get to. Not after what he’s done to you.” I paused. “And everyone else.”
“What am I supposed to do with you, Breck?” she asked, her breath soft against my lips.
Hell, I didn’t know what to do, what to say. How could I be falling for her? I wasn’t supposed to want this. I wasn’t supposed to want more. I didn’t get more.
But looking at her right then? At the way that her shoulders dropped ever so slightly, as if she could relax in front of me, undid me. How was I supposed to remain stoic against a woman who was so strong, so vibrant, and yet could peel away the facade of who she needed to be for others when she was in front of me?
I was falling for her strength, for the way that she saw me.
Because I wasn’t just that playboy prince to her anymore, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Why don’t you let me take care of you for once?” I whispered.
“You always take care of me,” she grumbled. “Maybe I just need to not think for now, so let me take care of you.”
“I think that can be arranged,” I said, and then I lowered my lips to hers. Could I want more? No, I couldn’t let myself think that. But maybe, maybe if I pretended just a little bit. After all, I was quite good at pretending. And I had to trust that she wouldn’t leave or that I wouldn’t watch her end up on the wrong side of a bullet or a bomb because of her job.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do that. She tugged on my belt loop, and I groaned into her, pushing away thoughts of what could happen and what could be. They weren’t going to help anybody.
Instead, I kissed her again, tasting her, needing her more.
“I need you,” she mumbled against my lips, and I was completely undone.
She didn’t need anyone, a refrain she had said more than once. Yet here she was, needing me? How was that possible? How had this happened? But I couldn’t focus on the whys, not when I needed to focus on the now.
So I kissed her harder, tugging on her hair slightly so I could move her head to the side. I latched my lips on her neck, and she groaned into me, her hands sliding down my back. She moaned again, and I moved my mouth up to bite her lip. She grinned, and I smiled back before taking her mouth again. In this, we were one, neither of us worrying about the past or future. Only worrying about what we had in each other’s arms right then.
There was no duty or power or struggle. Just the two of us. And I had to remember that.
We were in my foyer, the one just for me and not other guests, the one right next to my bedroom. And I wasn’t sure I could even wait long enough to get her to bed. Instead, I tugged at her shirt, and she smiled up at me before slowly raising her arms.
“Look at you, being all submissive,” I said, winking.
She narrowed her eyes and nearly lowered her arms. But I gripped her wrists in a gentle hold so as not to hurt her and kept her arms above her head. I moved her back two steps, and her shoulders were pressed against the wall. She let out a sharp intake of breath, and I used the movement to capture her lips in another kiss.
“You are playing on dangerous ground,” she muttered.
“Always,” I said with a smile. And then I kissed her again.
Her breasts arched into me, and I moved back to gently cup one in my free hand. My other hand still bound her wrists, keeping her steady. She raised a brow at me, and I brushed my thumb along her nipple through her shirt and her bra.
“I can already feel how hard you are for me,” I muttered.
“I thought that was my line,” she said, pressing the softness of her belly to the ridge of my erection.
“Touché.”
I kissed her again, and then I tugged her shirt out of her pants and slowly pulled it over her head. She kept her wrists above her head for me, and I kept that moment of trust between us, knowing if I screwed up here, she’d never forgive me. And I would never forgive myself.
“I want you,” I muttered.
“Then you have me.”
But could I have you forever?
I didn’t ask that aloud. I didn’t even let myself truly think it. Because I wasn’t the prince of forever. I couldn’t be. And yet, I wanted to be. For her. There was something wrong with me, but I didn’t care, not right then. Instead, I kissed her again, and then lowered my lips down her neck, leaving gentle brushes and wisps of muttered words. She ground against me, and I moved to her other collarbone and then over her chest, in between her breasts. I undid the clasp that nestled between the gentle slopes of her breasts, and her bra fell away. I lowered my hand from her wrists, and let her arms fall softly, as I didn’t want to hurt her. When she rotated her shoulders back and her bra fell to the ground behind her, I grinned at the movement, but my gaze was only for her breasts. Lush, tight brown nipples against honey-brown skin. She was gorgeous, and at least for now, she was all mine. I lowered my head and sucked one turgid nipple into my mouth. She gasped and slid her fingers into my hair. She tugged slightly, and I took that as an excuse to suck harder.
I twisted my lips and sucked so hard I knew she’d ache in the morning. But every time she moved, her nipples pressing against her bra, she would think of me. So I sucked again. And then I let go with a satisfying pop before moving to her other breast.
“It’s too much, prince.”
“Breck,” I muttered against her soft skin. “My name is Breck.”