Page 59 of Thrones We Steal

“It’s stupid. But sometimes when I was younger, I wished he was my dad.”

I tug my hand back into my lap. “At least yours is still alive.”

“As if that’s any better,” he mutters.

I swivel to face him. “Maybe if you’d try to make him proud, instead of only thinking about yourself, you’d have a better relationship.”

His fist tightens into a hard ball next to me on the seat and his knuckles pale. “You don’t know the first thing about my relationship with my father.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to compare your pain to mine.”

A small puff of air follows the punch he thrusts into the leather upholstery. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“Forgive me. Your intentions are always impossible to read.” I feel the weight of his gaze, but keep mine focused on the rain-sprinkled window.

“Is this about the kiss?”

“Wow, mind-reading. What other skills do you have?”

“C, what choice did we have? It would have been worse to ignore the crowd.”

“Not that kiss, you idiot.”

The car is silent as he processes this.

“I apologized for the other one,” he finally says.

“Why do men think an apology magically fixes everything?”

“I already told you, it was just a kiss.”

I gape at him. “That may have been ‘just a kiss’ to you, but it was highly inappropriate, considering I’m in love with someone else.”

“I’m confused. Are you mad at me, or yourself?”

The slug I deliver to his arm makes a satisfying whack. With lightning-fast reflexes, he catches my wrist in his hand. A quick tug nearly lands me in his lap. I pull back, but his fingers are like a manacle around my wrist.

“Fine,” he says and his eyes narrow with intensity. “That wasn’t just a kiss for me either. As a matter of fact, it was the best kiss I’ve ever had. And I’ve kissed a lot of women.” He releases his grip on my arm, and I tumble backwards into my seat.

I haven’t had a lot of experience kissing. Beck and I were together for years, but kissing was never our thing. I didn’t even think I liked it.

Until the one in Henry’s office.

Of course it was the best kiss I’ve ever had. Henry is a pro—a thought that makes me crave a toothbrush. But the best for him? Horse shit.

“I imagine women usually fall for that line,” I say, rubbing my newly-freed wrist.

“It’s not a line.”

“I think we can both agree it shouldn’t have happened and promise it never will again.”

“I have no regrets,” he says. “And I’ll make no promises.”

19

“Without Me” - Halsey

Our wedding night is as anticlimactic as one might expect from an arranged marriage in which both parties can barely hold a civil conversation without exploding into snide comments and deranged looks. I retreated to my suite soon after the wedding dinner. Henry did whatever Henry normally does, which is to say, I don’t have a bloody clue.

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