Page 32 of Savage Princess

So many of my firsts have been with Levin. And right now, I can’t think of anyone I would rather they have been with. I can’t imagine that ever changing.

I stay put in bed until he leaves to run his errands, waving him off and promising to block the door once he’s gone and not unblock it until I know for sure it’s him on the other side of the door. Once he leaves, I get up, feeling a tingling rush of desire at the lingering stickiness on my thighs that reminds me of everything we did last night. It makes me wish he were still in the room with me, getting into the shower with me, spending a lazy morning together as a couple instead of the distance that he put between us this morning.

That’s not going to change,I remind myself as I step under the hot water.So you might as well enjoy what you do get.

I linger in the shower for a while, wrapping the towel around myself and sitting on the edge of the bed as I comb out my damp hair and wait for him. When he gets back and knocks on the door, calling out my name, it’s not easy to unblock it without losing my towel. I have to grab for it three times, hanging on for dear life as he finally opens the door, backing up so that no stray passers-by outside happen to see me in only my towel. Fortunately, the parking lot looks fairly deserted.

Levin holds up two bags, one that looks as if it contains clothes, the other with styrofoam containers that smell like breakfast even from a foot away. My stomach growls, but I reach for the clothes first.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, and disappear into the bathroom to see what my wardrobe for the day is.

This time, it’s leggings and a loose tank top. There’s still no bra, and when I turn to one side, I can see the slight curve of the side of my breast. It makes me a little glad that we’re not going out, because I think I’d feel uncomfortable with anyone else seeing me like this. The idea of Levin seeing me, though, sends another ripple of anticipation down my spine.

There are sneakers in the bag too, and I’m tempted to put them on just in case anyone suddenly bursts through the door again, and we have to run. I’m not sure my feet can take another barefoot dash across the pavement. The idea of my sore, scraped soles rubbing against the bottom of the shoes while I eat breakfast doesn’t sound amazing either, though, so I shove them back into the bag and take it out with me.

Levin is seated at the tiny round table on one side of the room, intently focused on the eggs and slice of ham in front of him. The container with my breakfast is in front of the other chair, two small bottles of orange juice between the two containers.

It’s another small intimacy, having breakfast together like this. I sit down, glancing over at him, and I try to imagine us in an apartment together instead—maybe his, having breakfast there after waking up together.

“Where do you live? In New York, I mean.” I ask him before I can stop myself.There’s no reason not to, is there?“Do you have your own place?”

Levin looks up at me, his mouth twitching slightly. “I’m almost forty,” he says dryly. “I’m a little old for roommates, Elena.”

I feel my cheeks flush a little. “That’s true.” I feel embarrassed for forgetting how much older he is than I am, that, of course, he has his own place. “You said you don’t own a house, though. So what’s it like? Your place?”

Levin pauses, and I can see that he’s wracking his brain to decide if there’s some reason why heshouldn’ttell me. “It’s nothing much,” he says finally. “Just an apartment. Nothing special about it. It’s a place to eat and sleep and—”

He trails off, but I can imagine how that sentence was supposed to end. It shouldn’t bother me—of course, he’s been with plenty of women before me, and logically, I know there will be more after. This isn’t going to last—it never was. But I still feel a burning knot of jealousy deep in my belly at the idea of some other woman in his bed. Even thinking of his late wife is bad enough, but any other woman—

“Do you like it? Where you live?”

Levin shrugs. “Sure. New York is great. And my apartment—it’s comfortable enough. I spend a lot of time at work or traveling, so I don’t need anything fancy. Just a place to land when I am home.”

Home.The word sends a spike of pain through me. I’m headed to Boston, but that isn’t home. I have no idea if it will ever feel like home, or how long that would take. What ishometo me is somewhere I may never be able to go back to again.

“It sounds nice,” I say finally, at a loss for anything else. I want to sayI’d like to see it,but that’s impossible. I don’t even know that I’ll ever go to New York.

We eat in silence for a little while, until we’re both finished, and then Levin gets up, crossing the room to where another bag I hadn’t seen is sitting. “I got you this at the charity shop,” he says, pulling something out of it. “I don’t know if you’ll like it or not, but I thought it might be something to pass the time.”

He holds it out, and I feel my eyes widen and mist over. It’s a silly reaction, really, but it feels like such a thoughtful gift that I can’t help it.

In Levin’s hand is a romance novel, something older than what I usually read and slightly worn, with a shirtless man wrapped in a tartan holding a woman in a corseted dress that looks as if it’s about to fall off of her heaving bosom. It’s a very old-fashioned Harlequin-type romance, but I haven’t gotten to read a book in what feels like ages now. It’s clear that Levin remembered what genre of book I like to read, even if it’s not what I would usually go for.

“Thank you,” I whisper, taking it out of his hand. “That was really sweet of you.”

Levin clears his throat, and I see him shrug out of the corner of my eye. “Well, we’re going to be cooped up in motels for three more days. I thought you could use something to keep you busy.”

This isn’t going to make me want that to be you any less,I think wryly, but I don’t say it out loud. Instead, I hang onto the book, retreating to the bed and tugging up the covers to sit atop them, the shoes within reach, just in case we hear any strange noises. Levin sits on the other bed, and I can feel the distance between us as if it were a moat and not just a few inches.

It’s going to be a long three days.

Levin

Ishould have kept my hands off of her. I should have kept my distance.

I couldn’t.

For three days, we went from cheap motel to cheap motel, staying in a different one every night, and for three nights, I ended up in bed with Elena.

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