Page 68 of Royal Agenda

Ryker held out her chair, and she sat down, touched that he had gone to such lengths to romance her tonight.

“Ryker,” she started and then stopped, trying to gather words. She laughed at herself. “I think you’ve knocked me speechless.”

He chuckled and took her hand in his across the table. “Then you know how I feel every time I look at you, la mia sirena.”

“Why do you have to make it so hard to resist you?” She wanted to cry with the effort, and her eyes stung.

Ryker was by her side, on one knee and pressing kisses to her hand. “No tears. Grace. Please. I am not trying to make it hard for you.”

She managed to hold them back. “I know. But fighting how I feel about you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s like warring with myself.”

“I have an idea,” he kissed her hand again. “You should stop fighting and throw yourself at me. I will catch you, si?”

She burst out laughing, the threatening tears drying up in the process. “Eat your dinner, Romeo.”

He winked before rising and taking his seat. They began to eat and Grace allowed herself to relax into the fresh basil and garlic. She was weak. So, so weak for this man.

She shouldn’t feel as happy as she did right now. Not with all the unanswered questions and the past stuck between them. Please, give me something, she silently begged.

Twenty-Six

Ryker was losing her. He could feel it in the way she looked at him, the questions that swirled in her mind might as well have been written on billboards.

They talked about nothing during dinner, and he fought the panic that threatened to overtake him.

She dropped her napkin on her plate and sighed heavily–the sound like a gun cocking.

He reached for her hand, and she hesitated. The four seconds it took her to allow him the touch felt like an eternity.

“There are so many things I cannot tell you,” he started.

She stiffened.

“But I can share what is in my heart.” He drew circles on the back of her hand. “I miss . . . my family.”

Hearing the words out loud was like a whip cracking open a bag of grain. He did not share these things with anyone–even his friends.

Grace flipped their hands and put his hand between hers.

“I am alone in the world,” he continued, “and it must stay that way. It is difficult for me to say such things.”

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat.

“Why are you telling me?” she asked softly.

“Because when I am with you, I am complete in a way that I have never felt before. My love for you is even stronger than the loss I feel.”

“Ryker,” she whispered his name.

“I am afraid that the only things I can really share with you are the burdens of my soul.” He dropped his eyes. “And the love in my heart.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, and if she was going to walk away from him, he did not want to watch.

Grace stood, and his heart dropped. She would leave now, and he would be alone in the world. The prospect was not so dreadful before Grace, but after her, it would destroy him.

She moved around the table, and he braced for a goodbye. Her hand brushed his cheek, pulling his gaze up to meet hers. She slipped onto his lap and wrapped her arm around his neck. “I will take the burdens of your soul and the love in your heart and hold them close.”

He nudged her nose with his. “But will it be enough? Will I be enough for you?”

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