Page 76 of Coronation
It only takes me a few moments to come up with something. “I kept your panties from the night we met. They’re back at the palace in my rooms, if you’d like to confirm.” My chest expands as Zelda’s answering laugh rings through the warm night air. It’s not something that comes easily to me with others, but god, do I love making this woman laugh.
“You’re telling me that I played shepherd in no panties, when you had them in your pocket all the time?” she demands, but there’s no genuine anger in her voice.
We reach the end of a stretch of maze and turn left, drawing nearer to the center now. Grinning, I lift our intertwined hands to kiss the back of hers. “I’ll buy you a replacement if you like.”
I mentally add taking Zelda Flowers lingerie shopping to the list of requirements for me to die a happy man.
Zelda sighs, “It’s theprincipal, Benedict.”
“My full name? My, I must be in trouble.”
Another turn, briefly interrupted by a searingkiss that leaves us both panting. If I’m not careful, my balls will actually explode from what I’m putting them through tonight, but it’s worth it. Drawing that line in the sand seems to have lifted whatever remained of Zelda’s fears. This, right now, is the most relaxed I’ve seen her in my company since that last night we spent together in Fernhill, and it’s difficult to contain my excitement.
Finally,I’ve done something right.
There are obstacles yet to be overcome, practical measures I will have to take if I want to make this woman mine in any kind of permanent way, but this—her trust in me—was the biggest. It hasn’t escaped my attention that the coronation is only a few weeks away, and if we stick to the PR plan originally put forth, she will be leaving afterward.
Could I persuade her to stay?
Since the beginning, I have been laboring under the assumption that being queen would be as torturous for Zelda as being king is for me, somehow neglecting to take into account thatwe are different people.
“I believe it’s your turn to tell me a secret,” I muse, our pace slowing as we arrive at our destination.
The center of the maze is bright in the moonlight, and the towering old oak is still, its branches casting long shadows over the carpet of moonlit grass. Some of the sharp pieces inside me seem to settle as we stand side by side, taking in the place that has always been most grounding for me.
Zelda hasn’t answered, though, and when I look down, her expression is pained. “Anything?” She lifts her eyes to meet mine.
I tug on the hand still entwined with my own, leading her into my arms. She doesn’t hesitate to hug me back, her arms wrapping tight around my waist as she buries her face in my chest. There’s tension held in her body, lingering worry from whatever it is that she’s afraid to tell me, and I won’t have it.
Pressing my lips to her temple, I murmur softly into her ear, “Keep your secrets, darling. You’ve given me more than enough tonight.”
A quiet noise of disbelief comes from the woman in my embrace, and still, she holds me tighter. “I haven’t given you anything.”
Ha.“You’ve given me hope,” I admit, every word weighed down by the lingering guilt. “That I haven’t ruined this. That I might still have a prayer of keeping you.”
Against me, Zelda trembles, and after an age, lifts her head to look at me. “I’m afraid,” she admits, misery evident in every beautiful line of her face. “That you won’t want me if I’m not perfect.”
God, I’m not sure I could possibly hate anything more than I hate that idea in her head. It’s been clear to me for some time that I’m falling in love with this woman, or perhaps, that I’ve already fallen. Whatever the case, it seems clear I lost a piece of myself to Zelda Flowers the very night we met, and it won’t ever be recovered.
The owl hoots noisily nearby.
With a brand-new ache spreading through my chest, I lower my lips to kiss the corner of her mouth, her chin, her jaw, her neck. “I hope you aren’t perfect,” I promise as I lift my head to meet her shining eyes once again. “Perfect is fake. I don’t want another flawless thing I couldn’t possibly deserve.”
I want you.
I want to be the me I am when I’m with you.
I want us to be together. Always.
Another breeze rustles the tops of the hedges around us and carries through the branches of the great oak as I kiss her.
Zelda is small and fragile in my hands, and yet, as she kisses me back, it is with a force that reminds me she will not break. It goes on and on, growing more urgent with each greedytouch and broken intake of air, keeping time with my thundering heartbeat.
I’m overwhelmed by the intimacy of it, and the absolute certainty that the need threatening to swallow me whole will take us both. We are in this together, drowning in the same bottomless well of need, and it’s the closest thing to a miracle I’ve ever known.
“Ben.” The sound of my name on her lips, breathless and pleading in the briefest space between kisses, does nothing to anchor me to reality. I crowd her backward into the trunk of the tree, grinding my erection into her stomach, my hands clutching every part of her they can reach.
Zelda’s hands find my face, though, pulling me back to meet her eyes. “I trust you,” she pants, and even in the shadows, I can see her pupils are blown wide.
