Page 82 of The Gambler's Prize
He crinkles his nose, thinking. “That’s true. I don’t know if I can handle the desert heat forever.” He takes off his hat and fans his face to prove it.
“And you need to be in my future long-term,” I say. “That’s absolutely nonnegotiable.”
One hand sneaks around my waist, and he pulls me in for the softest kiss, his tongue just teasing at the crease of my mouth.
“I’m not going anywhere, Boss,” he breathes.
Fuck. This is my life. This gorgeous man is mine now and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. I must’ve done something right in another life or another universe, because I don’t deserve this luck after the life I’ve lived. I place the hat back on his head and arrange his hair just right.
“So, should we go back to Rhennes?” I suggest, without much enthusiasm. “Go home?” I’m not sure about that idea. Too manypeople there know about my shameful past. But if it’s what Florian wants, I think I could bear it.
“You know those loan sharks are after me.”
“So? I’ll take care of them.” My fists clench as though listening to the conversation.
“I couldn’t let you do that,” he says. He sounds tempted, though. “I owe them fair and square.”
I bundle him onto his back, enjoying the little squeal of surprise that bubbles up from his lips. I pin his forearms above his head.
“And yet you couldn’t stop me,” I say, oozing the arrogance I know he loves.
He sticks his tongue out at me. The sight of Florian pinned and helpless under me and completely unafraid is a joyous sight.
“Oh, I think I could,” he says. “If I promised you enough kisses.”
He’s got me there. I take that as an invite to claim one of those kisses right now, dropping my face to his and tasting his soft lips. We lose ourselves for a long while, until I draw back for breath.
“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go back to Rhennes anyway,” I admit.
I touch my tattoo, feeling the usual wave of shame. It’s not natural for me to be so vulnerable with anyone. But I owe it to Florian. He’s trusted me so much, more than I deserved, even from the beginning. He never holds back his feelings from me.
“If we go somewhere far enough away, people might not know what this tattoo means,” I say. “I wouldn’t have to wear the hood all the time.”
Florian touches his lips to my neck then looks at me, eyes soft and fierce.
“Or you could just own it, even in Rhennes,” he says.
“I’ve never been strong enough to do that.”
“Maybe you could do it with me at your side?”
Maybe. The fact I’m even considering it shows how much he means to me.
“What exactly are you ashamed of?” he says. “The fact you were in prison? Everybody knows that the wrong people end up in prison all the time.”
Do they? That’s an unusual opinion to spring from an aristocrat’s lips. But then, as I keep discovering, Florian has a lot more layers than I first gave him credit for.
“It’s partially being in prison,” I say. “But it’s mostly what the tattoo signifies. People know what the gangs are like. They’ll think I agree with their methods. Or they’ll realize the truth: that I was too afraid and weak to refuse. They’ll know I went along to avoid being hurt. ”
Florian’s eyes get soft. “Boss, with all due respect, that’s silly. No one expects you to fight a whole gang. People know that sometimes you have to give in to survive.”
I shrug, needing to change the subject.
“Well, let’s think about it for a while,” Florian says, reading me like a book. “We don’t need to decide where to live right now.”
“You’re right.” I throw out my arms in an expansive gesture, looking around at the empty desert, making a conscious effort to cheer up the conversation. “The world is ours.”
“I love it when you talk so grandly, Boss,” he says, mouth plump from my kisses and his eyes shining again. “I almost believe we could do anything.”
