“Yes,” she whispered.
“Very good. Excuse me.”
Without another word or look her way, he stepped away. She stared after him, still as uncertain as she’d been before as to how their meeting would go. Would he cut her off? Punish her? Apologize?
Or did the fact that he’d told her he liked when she said his name mean that he would come to her and repeat what had happened before? She shivered at the thought, pleasure rippling through her almost against her will.
She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Midnight felt so very far away and she was certain she would be haunted by every tick of the clock until it came and they were together again. Alone again.
CHAPTER 11
Grantham had requested Ophelia meet him at midnight, but he hadn’t been able to stay away long before that. He’d entered the library half an hour before and had been pacing the room ever since, jumping any time there was the slightest noise or movement in the hallway.
“You are king of a nation,” he scolded himself, moving to the fire and stirring it gently with the iron. “You cannot be thwarted by one intriguing woman.”
He said it and he wished he meant it, but as the door opened behind him and he pivoted to watch Ophelia enter the room, all thoughts of being strong faded. There was only her now and the very powerful desires he felt toward her.
She still wore her gown from supper, a honey-gold silk with a provocatively low neckline that was protected by just a swath of pale yellow lace. His mouth went dry at the sight of her and drier still when she reached behind her and closed the library door.
Her hands shook, revealing she was just as moved as he was, and she clasped them before her as she stood there by the door. Almost as if ready to run if need be.
“Good—good evening,” she said, her voice cracking just a fraction.
Well, at least she was as nervous as he was. A great feat considering how confident she always seemed to be. There was something powerful about knowing he had chipped away at her in some of the same way she always did to him. A triumph he ought not to celebrate and yet did.
“Please come in,” he said.
She swallowed hard before she took one step forward. When he arched a brow, she huffed out her breath and took a few more to come closer. Not close enough by any means, but at least she was really in the room now.
Still, she said nothing, only continued to watch him, eyes wide. He shifted. This would fall on him, it seemed. As it should, considering their positions, he supposed.
“Obviously we must discuss what happened earlier this afternoon.”
A flutter of a smile tilted the edges of her lips. “I can always depend on you to forgo small talk.”
He angled his head. “Would you like me to ask about your evening first? Talk to you about the weather or the roads?”
He was pleased when the fire that was within her stoked back up in her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips and gave him that challenging smile that lit up the room like a candle. “Of course, Your Majesty. The weather has been wonderful this entire trip. I do love the end of the summer, the beginning of autumn. I imagine this island must blaze with color as the leaves turn.”
He blinked. “Er, yes.”
“As for the roads, I have not ventured from the palace overly much in the last few weeks, but given the fine weather, I would assume they are good. You would allow for no less, I think. And as for my evening…” She trailed off and now faltered, all the bravado wavering. “Well, it was fine. Except for being nervous about this meeting.”
“You, nervous?” he asked with a low chuckle. “I shall never believe it, my lady.”
She sighed. “And yet, it is true. Of course, with as much trouble as I give you, I know what you said a moment ago is also true. We must talk about what happened between us this afternoon.”
And there it was. The game was over. The consequences begun. He rather regretted that. But he still took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I took advantage,” he began.
Her eyes went wide. “Took advantage?” she repeated. “Of course you didn’t. Perhaps I did.”
He moved toward her, and now there was just a step between them. Not even a long step and she would be pressed close like she had been a few hours before. His body reacted immediately to that thought, all the blood rushing to exactly the wrong places. God’s teeth, he had to focus.
“I could have stopped it if I had wanted to,” he said, and his voice was only a touch strangled.
“And so could I,” she argued. Then she pursed her lips. “Are you…are you sorry it happened? That you…that you touched me like that?”
He hesitated. For propriety’s sake he supposed he should express regret at his actions, or at least at their location. And yet he couldn’t. He didn’t want to, because if he did, this would certainly be over. And maybe that was right, maybe that was proper…but it certainly wasn’t good. It wouldn’t feel good to cut this off without further discussion and exploration of what had happened, what it meant and what the future was because of it.
“No. I wanted you.” He shut his eyes briefly, swallowed hard and then looked at her again. “I-I want you, Ophelia.”
There was a moment when she swayed on her feet, her eyes grew wide as saucers. He had no idea if she was put off by that directness. Perhaps he had misread this entire exchange, every exchange with her. It was possible.
“I understand if you don’t wish—” he began, but she cut him off when she stepped up, grasped his lapels to pull him down to her and kissed him.
She whimpered low in her throat as the kiss immediately deepened. He couldn’t help it, after all, the moment they touched it was lightning and fire and chaos. He delved his tongue between her lips, tasting her like it had been years since he had the pleasure rather than hours. And she met him with the same desperation and drive that he brought.
But before it could go too far, she also pushed back, her breath short, her pupils dilated as she stared up at him. “I want you,” she whispered. “I wanted what we did today. And I…I want more.”
He licked his lips. There it was, not driven by him after all, but by this remarkable sprite of a woman who asked for what she desired. Took it if need be. And set him entirely on his head every time they got within fifty feet of each other.
He found himself smiling as he motioned to the chairs before the fire. “Sit,” he ordered. “It seems we have a great deal to discuss.”
He was ordering her to sit. There was a part of Ophelia that bristled at that, wanted to refuse just to tweak him. And yet she did as he asked. After all, the tweaking was all part of this game, wasn’t it? She could see that now, perhaps she’d always seen it in some way. When she made him react to her, that was a flash of passion from him.
And she had just admitted that his passion was what she wanted most.
He took the place beside her, but sat at the front of the chair, leaned forward, entirely focused on her. When his dark gaze slid over her, she couldn’t help but shiver in response. The desire she felt for him was outrageous, uncontrollable and overpowering.
She cleared her throat, trying to regain some purchase over herself. “Your people consider sex differently, I think, yes? With quite a progressive mindset.”