Page 68 of Thrones We Steal

“I was worried about you. I knew being in the hospital was hard for you, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Let’s not forget, you implied you needed time to yourself because of your dad, not because you were meeting your lover.” My chest grows warm and tight under his glare. “Speaking of—” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the incriminating phone. His face is a cool mask as he looks at the pictures. “Getting pretty cozy with the staff, C.”

“Oh, please,” I say. “Don’t play that card. It’s beneath even you.”

“Okay,” he says and sticks the phone back into his pocket. “Then tell me how many more of these sort of destructive situations I’ll have to save you from.”

“I never asked you to follow me, and I bloody well didn’t ask you to save me.”

“Since you’re so unappreciative, you won’t mind if I hand this phone over to the press then, right?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “All right. The Sun should have lots of fun with it.”

“Damn it, Henry!” I say as he starts walking away. “Can you for once not make me want to strangle you?”

He wheels around to face me. “As soon as you quit being a pain in the ass.”

I desperately want to hit him with something heavy, like my car. “You smug son-of-a-bitch.”

He moves closer until he’s only inches away. I refuse to take a step backward, refuse to show him how he affects me. He cups my jaw in his palm and yanks me closer with the other hand.

“I ought to kiss you until you can’t see straight.”

Electricity zips through my blood. At his touch, my body responds the way I knew it would, rising up and begging him to make good on his threat. My mind grabbles for control.

“But I won’t,” he breathes and brushes his lips over mine. This new move nearly sends me into cardiac arrest, but he doesn’t appear to notice. “I’ll settle for drinks. In my suite. Tonight.”

I jerk my mutinous body out of his hands. “Are you out of your mind? I know what you do there.”

Raising both palms, he says, “I swear, drinks only. You owe me for bailing you out.”

“No way. I’m not coming to your room.” I am buzzing with the high voltage coursing through me.

“Come on, C. Just as friends. Aren’t you tired of fighting?”

I study him. He isn’t hiding laughter—always a sign that he’s up to no good. His eyes hold a smudge of a plea—Henry doesn’t make a habit of asking for things. His lips are slightly parted—like he’s waiting with baited breath for my answer.

I do a quick gut check on myself. My traitorous body is already waiting in his suite, praying he didn’t mean his “just as friends” comment. My inner skeptic is surprisingly silent. It seems the general consensus is that Henry can be trusted this time.

And the truth is, I am tired of fighting with him. I pull my lower lip between my teeth, now cold with sweat. “Okay. Just drinks.”

“Just drinks.”

21

“Stranded” - Plumb

It takes less than thirty minutes to regret my decision, but Henry will never let me back out now, not after I’ve agreed.

I need an escape route. I’ll go and have one drink with him, claim a headache, and go back to my own suite. He can’t force me to drink more than I want, and if he actually thinks I have a headache, he’ll let me go. The trick is to be convincing enough.

After dismissing Daphne for the night, I circle my closet, debating what to wear. It’s best to be on full defense. Henry is not to be trusted, no matter how guileless he appeared earlier. I finally decide on a black cashmere sweater and jeans. Comfortable, unassuming, and best of all, modest.

I’m pulling my hair into a loose ponytail when soft music floats through the wall separating my suite from Henry’s. My blood hurtles through my veins at top speed, and I curse my younger self who stood in the park and agreed to this. Stupid girl.

I can’t delay any longer, or he’ll come looking for me. I summon up the courage to knock on the door connecting our suites. He doesn’t come, although I can still hear the music. Maybe he didn’t hear my knock.

I knock again, louder this time, but there’s no answer. We didn’t agree on a time. Maybe he expects me to let myself in when I’m ready.

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