Page 76 of Lost Kingdom

“I was trying to distract them from other things! You want to buy a house?”

“It’s the logical next step. I won’t entertain a conversation about divorce, and I can’t have my wife living above a bar. We can have kids whenever you’re ready, too.”

“Tim!”

“Timeline is your choice, so long as the first baby is in your belly before next Christmas.”

“Dude.” I scramble up to sit and cross my legs, despite how crass the position is when I’m not wearing underwear. “You need to gowayyyyback to the part where you ask me to marry you. Date me like a normal human being. Buy me an engagement ring, and invite my parents to a real wedding.”

“But we’re already married.” He sets the rag down and crawls along the bed. Flopping down and stealing my pillows, he drags me back until I land on his side, my cheek on his heart and my leg riding high on his thigh. But I guess that’s not good enough, because he grabs my hips and pulls me up until I’m on top, my legs framing his hips and his cock, dangerously close to filling me once more. “We can do the ceremony again, I suppose, and letyour parents think it’s the real thing. But I’m not divorcing you just so you can have a redo.”

“You’re lucky I’ve had a couple of weeks to work through my anger over this.” I rest my elbows on his chest and feel no remorse when the bony tips dig into his muscles. “The choice you took out of my hands, the event you robbed me of, the dress shopping and bridesmaid traditions and all of that craziness. I have sisters who would have liked to stand up with me, and Minka, who deserves to be forced into another gown and the salon chair for a day.”

“That makes you spiteful.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and grins. “She hates that shit.”

“Yeah, and that would have been my gift to myself. But you stole that from me, too. Now here we are, an unhappy married couple, and I don’t even have a pretty dress hung in my closet to commemorate the event.”

“You have the dress you wore to Felix’s wedding. And the one you wore to Minka’s.”

“You mean the first time you tried to marry me, but the captain wouldn’t sign the paperwork?” Again, I surprise the man who thinks he controls the world. Odd, considering he controls nothing without me knowing about it first. “You thought you’d sneak that past me without consequences?”

“How do you know this stuff?” He fists the back of my hair and holds me captive. “Dammit, Aubree! Who is in your ear? Because they’re way too fuckin’ close, and I won’t tolerate any motherfucker stepping where he’s not supposed to be.”

“I feel no need to name my sources. But beware there’s nothing you can do, no move you can make, that isn’t already communicated to me before you take the first step.”

“Name names,” he growls. “Or pay the price.”

“What are you gonna do? Have sex with me until it hurts?” I drag his hand from my hair and roll off his chest. He reaches for me, but I’m faster, and my stomach growls to the point of pain. “What do you have in your fridge? I’m starving and we don’t have the option of burgers.”

“We could call the bar and have Daisy bring something up.” He stays on the bed, naked and hard. Always. “Or you can order anything in from anywhere. It’sourmoney now, babe.”

I head into the hall and all the way to the fridge, then I yank it open and break out in goosebumps when the cold air hits my bare skin. I still need to wash my hands. Clean up before I handle food. But I peek into the depths ofa bachelor’s fridge and find staples that somehow call to me with a fierce intensity. “Eggs. Bread. Butter.”

“Are you creating a shopping list?” he calls out. “Good wives actually go to the store and buy the things, too. Then they cook.”

“That shit’s gonna wear outreallyfast, Malone. Then you’ll be crying into your cereal while I sip Mai Tai’s with my second husband and we joke about how you screwed up the first marriage.” I leave the fridge open and turn to pump soap into my hands at the sink. I flip the tap on and let it run until cold water turns warm, then I scrub. Because, well… gross. “Can you please bring me a shirt? I don’t wanna burn myself while performing my wifely duties.”

“Here.” Surprising me, he pops up at my back, his chest warming my skin and his hand wrapping around the front of my throat. Then he pulls me back and forces me to look up into his perfect eyes. “We must be in sync on a cosmic level or some shit, because I saw, in my mind, you burning yourself, and knew I had to get you a shirt to save you from the scars.”

“Princely of you.” I grab the back of his head and drag him down until his beard tickles my chin and his lips latch onto mine. “Always protecting me.”

“It’s my thing.” He plops a shirt over my head and drags it down to cover me up. “I was put here to protect you. It’s my lot in life.”

“You make it sound like a chore. And yet, you’re the one marrying people in secret.” I stab my arms through the sleeves and turn back to grab things from the fridge. “Do you believe in the cosmic stuff?”

He moves to the long counter in shorts I didn’t realize he’d pulled on, and pushes up to sit on the crappy laminate top.

“What do you mean?”

“You mentioned being in sync and seeing me burn myself. Was that your protective side catastrophizing things, or do you believe people can have a connection beyond the normal?”

“Like, soul mates?”

“There’s that.” I grab the carton of eggs and weigh it in my hand to make sure we have enough. “But I guess I mean, on a spiritual level. A little like how some twins can feel whenever the other is in pain. How do we explain that phenomenon?”

“We don’t.” He leans to the left and snags an apple from the fruit bowl. He’s starving too, it seems. “Science is unable to prove it. In fact, a bunch of twins have gone on the record todisproveit.”

“So you don’t believe in the possibility that people who share a certain emotional connection can feel the other’s pain? Or happiness? Fear, even.”

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