Page 22 of Regal Queen

And yet, Bourbon’s aloofness kept me from acting on the feeling. I hated the distance between us. The way he built a wall so easily between us, as if I meant nothing to him at all. Did he even care anymore, now that I’d been rescued?

Was I only a possession to him? Some kind of prize? A trophy that he had to re-capture in the game between him and Dimitri?

Yet, the sadness I could now see in his eyes tugged at my heart. That had been his mother's home. The mother that was 'gone.'

I was worried about him, so I padded his way. Cautious eyes watched me as I sat on the same sofa as him, making sure to put some space between us. Watched as I wrapped the coat around me like a shield.

“What does that mean to you?” He nodded towards the coat.

I stilled. Of course he noticed Ivan’s coat. How I wore it every waking hour. How I never shared it with anyone.

My lips parted in an explanation but no words came out. I suddenly found that I couldn’t say the words. Tell him Ivan’s name.

Tell him how he’d saved me, not just from the guard’s bullets but from losing my mind back in that place.

How his fingers had gently taken care of cuts and wounds, how much comfort I’d felt at his gruff words, his Russian accent thick but soothing.

I frowned.

Bourbon had barely spoken two words to me in the past week. I wasn’t going to cut myself open and bleed in front of him.

I couldn’t be that vulnerable, not right now, when things were still so fresh.

I didn’t know if I would ever be able to reveal that kind of pain to him.

I lifted a shoulder, playing with the edges of the sleeve. “It’s just a coat.”

He huffed a breath of air, scoffing. “Sure.”

I met his eyes. “It’s just a coat, Bourbon.”

“Then take it off. Maybe wash the thing.”

I clutched it tighter. “I’m cold.”

He looked away, not meeting my gaze, and I could feel the distance growing between us again. I wanted to ask if he was okay. Wanted to be here for him while he felt the pain of loosing his mother’s home.

But I knew that it was pointless. Of course he wasn't okay, but he would never talk to me about all that.

And yet, I needed to break him open. To force him to admit that he wasn’t a block of ice.

And provoking him was the only way to see any kind of emotion from him.

“So," I began, hating the words coming from my mouth, but knowing they would hit their mark. “You killed Lily."

He immediately straightened. His eyes turned from concerned to blazing with anger in one second. “You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Maybe not,” I responded, "and maybe I do. Maybe Dimitri told me everything."

"What does Dimitri know about anything that happened that night? He was nowhere near."

"That doesn't mean he doesn't have information about what happened."

“Tell me then,” the coldness in his eyes chilled me to the bone, "what happened that night, Rose? Since you know so much.”

“You tell me," I demanded. "I want to hear it from your own mouth."

"Why?"

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