Page 6 of His Forever Princess

Because if he was a machine, he couldn't mean to hurt her.

Alessandra hated that what had once been a warm relationship, one she'd been sure she couldn't live without, had faded into the same kind of sham marriage as her parents had.

Now he grunted, shifting a little on his feet. Was he in pain?

"I didn't pack a sleeping bag," he said.

Confusion pinched her brow.

Maybe he had 20/20 peripheral vision, because he continued as if she'd spoken her confusion. "There's only one bed."

Oh.

Did it bother him to think about lying in the same bed with her? Heat crept into her cheeks. She turned her face to the side.

"We shared a bed for years," she said. Was that her voice? Husky and soft? "It doesn't bother me."

He was silent and motionless for a moment that stretched long. The longer it stretched, the more she wondered if he was finally going to say all the things that were broken between them.

But then he was a blur in the darkness, taking the two steps from the window to the bed. He sat down gingerly on the edge. He must be in more pain than she'd guessed.

He moved his legs. She heard his shoes thunk onto the floor.

She stretched out again, lying on her back, scooting away to give him room. It wasn't enough. His shoulder still brushed hers, and she felt the awareness of his touch skitter down her spine.

He was lying on top of the covers. Still fully dressed.

But at least he'd relented. Maybe he would even get some sleep.

She stared at the ceiling, feeling more wide awake now than when they'd arrived.

The hours together had opened her eyes, made her remember that Gideon was tough, a product of his upbringing and his time as a SEAL and the nature of his profession.

He was a man, but he was human. He bled. He hurt.

And he kept that part of himself from her.

Who had started the rift, years ago? The memories were fuzzy now, nebulous. They could blow away if she breathed too heavily.

Thirty years ago, she'd pledged her life to Gideon. She'd trusted him. She'd loved him—and she still did. That was the secret she held so close. Because it was one-sided. And it made her weak.

"Where did we go wrong?" Had she meant to say the words? She'd held them close to her heart for such a long time. Afraid of the answer. Afraid that if she asked, everything would become final. There would be no coming back.

He made a noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh. "I thought you wanted to sleep."

She did. But now that she'd dared to speak the words, she also wanted to know. The question was out there, waiting to be answered.

But he remained silent, and she'd used up all her reserves of bravery for the moment.

Gideon could be reasonable, she reminded herself. She'd fought against this plan, the isolation. But fighting against him hadn’t gotten her anywhere. If he was her only chance of ensuring the trade agreement reached Ambassador Cain, she'd make nice.

"This agreement is vitally important," she said softly.

"I know." There was some resignation behind his words, something she didn't understand.

"I have to be back in Glorvaird by next Friday."

It gave her a little more than a week to somehow get her changes on the document to Clara. And the flight would take a whole day.

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