Page 125 of Thrones We Steal

For reasons I can’t explain, I wait until he returns before brushing my own teeth, and when I get back, I can’t tell if he’s still awake or not. He has his back turned to me, and the lamp on his side of the bed is already off.

The intense way he made love to me scares me the most. It was like he wanted to savor every moment. Which doesn’t make sense, unless …

I won’t go there.

He won’t leave me.

Not after all of this.

He feels the same way I do.

He cares too much to lead me on.

I’m being ridiculous.

I crawl into bed and flip off the light and the nagging voice in my head. I curb the desire to touch him and fold my hands under my pillow so they won’t get any ideas of their own. It’s obvious we won’t be snuggling tonight.

We need to have a conversation tomorrow about what’s going to happen next. We have a country and responsibilities waiting for us back home. It’s time to act like adults.

I sigh and roll over, my back to him. It’s much easier to sleep on my right side, especially if he isn’t even going to look at me. After a few minutes, the bed squeaks as he shifts. Soon his arms slip around my waist and burrow me into the magical sanctuary of his chest.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispers.

It isn’t until I’m sinking into sleep that it occurs to me. The black cloud hanging over an otherwise perfect day. I told Henry exactly how I feel about him, how madly I’m in love with him, and how I can’t imagine a life without him.

He has yet to tell me anything.

39

“My Immortal” - Evanescence

He’s gone when I wake in the morning. I refuse to assume the worst, much to the dismay of the cynical voice in my head, which keeps hammering away at the front of my skull. I sit up in bed and survey the room and the evidence of our late night activities.

My clothes lie crumbled in a pile next to the bed, my shoes discarded near the sofa. Several empty condom wrappers lie on the nightstand—a tingling reminder of his incredible stamina.

Will it ever get old, this feeling of being completely consumed by him? It’s like being on drugs, or at least the way I imagine being on drugs feels, except I have the advantage of not coming down from the high.

At least not yet, the nag in my head snarks.

I silence her with a hot shower and the retort that Henry will be back by the time I’m done. He is just coming into the room, carrying a tray of what appears to be breakfast, when I walk out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a T-shirt and joggers, and there’s a triangle of sweat on his chest. He looks a hundred times better than the food he’s holding.

“Hey, I missed you this morning. Good run?” I give my cynical subconscious a pointed glance.

He nods and hands me the tray, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.” He hesitates for a second, then presses a kiss to my forehead before heading into the bathroom.

Bile surges up my throat. I set the tray on the table with a clatter and take a sip of coffee. I don’t know what it is yet, but I can’t deny it any longer.

Something is definitely wrong.

* * *

A while later, Henry emerges from the bathroom, freshly shaven and smelling like a dream. He grabs a donut from the breakfast tray I haven’t the appetite for and demolishes it in three bites.

I cock an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

“Famished.” He pours himself a cup of coffee from the carafe. He has yet to so much as glance at me.

“Henry.” I wait for him to look up. He doesn’t. “We need to talk.”

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