Page 28 of Resisting Royal

CHAPTER 14

ROYAL

Pulling back from her lips after lunch yesterday was the hardest thing I’d done in my life. I’d kissed girls, fucked them until they couldn’t walk, and they begged me to stop as they screamed for more, but nothing compared to the thrill that coursed through me when her soft lips touched mine.

It was electrifying, and although I intended it to only be a quick peck, she drew me in, rubbing her lithe body against mine in such a way that even the strongest of men would become weak. I wasn’t a god, even though many look to me as such. I was just an ordinary man, with ordinary weaknesses and ordinary needs. The moment that woman signed her name on a paper declaring she was mine, she became my need. All thoughts focused on claiming her—showing her I was serious—proving to her in all ways that count,. that we would be amazing together.

The thought that she was walking around without a ring, letting other men ogle her as if she was unattached didn’t settle well with me. I was possessive, a little too much so, I’d admit, but she was mine. She did say the vows and exchanged what had to be the world’s most chaste kiss on my lips, after all. I waited until the moment she pulled off the street before I had Veronica rearrange my schedule, then I went in search of a ring because she absolutely needed one on that pretty little finger of hers.

The funny thing about ring searching was that there apparently was no quick shopping trip. I thought I would be in and out in a matter of minutes, down a few thousand and up one happy wife. But the choices were something I never planned for. All women talk about is the larger the diamond, the happier they are, but seeing the atrocious-sized rings didn’t scream Bianca to me; they screamed high maintenance, fake, red nails, and apologetic shopping sprees.

There was nothing that whispered Bianca to me. In fact, they were her opposite. Bianca had to be the most low-key girl I’d met. She looked gorgeous after only spending fifteen minutes getting ready in the morning. She didn’t use fake nails because it’s a working hazard, and I didn’t think I’d seen her spend a dime on anything but our sandwiches the whole week we’d been together. Even though I wasn’t around much, I still would’ve noticed the bags that tend to pile up. She hadn’t even touched the credit card I left her.

It took me going to three stores before I found the one. It wasn’t a heavy five-carat diamond like all the sales associates insisted she would love. But a one-carat beauty on white gold, with amethyst lining the band. I left fifteen minutes later, the teal box weighing down my pocket and lightening my heart.

When I came home that night, she was already asleep. She was out cold from her obviously exhausting day, and even though I tried to wake her, she didn’t so much as flutter her eyes. I figured I would give her the ring in the morning, but when she woke, I lost my nerve. One’s wife can’t say no to a wedding ring, could they? I didn’t want to find out, hell, I was fucking terrified to.

She left me while I was searching for clothes in my closet, and I used that time to take the ring box out of my drawer and place it on the jewelry chest in her closet. I stood back, staring at it, debating if maybe I should just take it back and pretend I never bought it at all. But the smell of bacon wafted from downstairs, drawing my attention to the kitchen, and even though I was standing there in a room alone, I couldn’t stop the fucking smile from taking over my face.

A few minutes later, I found her downstairs in the kitchen, looking absolutely adorable as she hummed to herself and made breakfast, completely unaware of my eyes on her. And they were everywhere on her, her breasts, her hips, her thighs, her ass—every damn part of her appealed to me—and I had to adjust my stance to be more comfortable.

Her eyes found mine, and they locked. “You cook?”

“Breakfast.” She looked a little shy.

“For me?” I asked, knowing damn well she made enough for me, but she would be too stubborn to admit it.

She looked thoughtful. “For me, but I guess I could share the extras.”

My girl didn’t disappoint me. I made her coffee, ate her food, listened as she talked, and the whole time I could only think about the ring I left her. I knew it was ridiculous. Why would I be nervous about it when we were already married? Then again, this marriage hadn’t really been her choice. She didn’t love me, although I wondered what it would feel like if one day she did. My mind knew what a business arrangement this was, but my heart, that little black thing I sometimes forgot I even owned, sputtered a little bit at the thought of her acceptance.

Having Bianca accept the ring, that measly piece of jewelry that I bought just for her, felt like her acceptance of me too. Like maybe, if she wore it, she’d be saying she’s willing to give this a full try and be my wife. I thought about it all through breakfast, the weight of the significance suffocating me, and when I left for work, I dared not speak a word about the box left for her, because I thought—I thought if I saw visible repulsion it might just ruin me.

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