Page 61 of Cruel Heir

All of these feelings exist, even without his presence. I can try to ignore them, to shut down and push him away, until either my father takes me back or Andre has succeeded, and everything goes cold between us.What happens then?Our marriage will have to be fruitful eventually, if he’s going to maintain his power. Will he one day take my choices away again, if he’s given no other option himself?

I don’t want to know the answer to that. But I also know that’s not the reason that I get up, get out of bed, and walk to my door. It’s not to stave off the moment when I find out that he’ll go back to the way things were before, if he’s forced to. It’s not giving in so that I don’t have to find out.

Iwanthim. After today, I want my husband.

The door to his bedroom is closed, but not locked. He doesn’t stir when I push it open, and for a moment, I think he’s asleep. I consider turning around and leaving, going back to my room. I still have a chance to not make this decision. To notshowhim how I feel.

But then I see him shift in the bed, his head turning towards the sound of my footsteps, and I know he’s still awake.

“I’m not sleeping,principessa,” Andre says quietly, as if he can read my thoughts. “But I am wondering why you’re here.”

I wish I could say the same.

I step inside, closing the door behind me. “I—” I can’t make myself say it. I walk towards the bed, the wooden floor cold under my feet. In the darkness of the room, I see Andre sit up in bed. He’s only a shape, silhouetted against the faintest light coming in from the balcony, and I can’t see his expression. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

“You didn’t come to my room.” I try to keep my words as even as I can, to not let him hear any hint of emotion in them. I don’t want him to know whatI’mthinking. Not yet. Maybe not at all.

Andre is silent for a long moment, and I don’t move. Even with so much space still between us, the air is heavy and thick with tension. “I gave you a choice today,” he says finally. “The last time I came to your room, it was clear that you didn’t want me there. I don’t think your choice to come back with me today changed that. So I gave you another choice.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, I can hear the deep rasp in his voice, the barely leashed need. It makes something heat deep in my belly, my skin tingling as I stand there. “I waited to see if you would come to me.”

And here I am.He doesn’t need to say it aloud. I try to draw in a breath, but it feels as if most of the air has been sucked from my lungs. I feel like I’m drowning, caught up in emotions I’ve never had before, feeling things I don’t understand. I’m drifting, with no certainty as to what way I should choose.

“And what if I hadn’t?” I ask softly. “What then?”

Another long pause. “I would have waited,” he says finally, and God help me, I want to believe him. Iwantto, but I don’t know if I can.

“Why should I believe that?” I whisper. I can feel myself starting to tremble. I want to run, and I want to stay. I want to believe him, and I don’t know how to let myself do that. “You never waited before.”

“I didn’t before.” The admission sounds tinged with regret, another emotion that I’ve never heard from him before, not truly. “But I have since—” He lets out a breath. “Since I realized how deeply you wanted to escape the fate I chose for you. Since I realized what I drove you to. So I haven’t touched you, when you haven’t wanted me to.”

“What if Ineverwant you to?” The quiver in my voice gives away the want that I already feel, even I can hear that. But even so, he doesn’t move.

“What answer do you want,principessa? How can I convince you of what I’m trying to do?” His voice roughens. It’s strange standinghere like this, talking to him in the dark, only the sound of his voice giving away any emotion. He doesn’t move to turn on a light, and I think that he might prefer it that way, for now.

“You’ll lose the other dons, without an heir,” I say, almost accusingly, daring him to tell me that’s not true. “They’ll abandon you, if they think you won’t produce one. They’ll beg my father’s forgiveness and leave you alone to his mercy. He’llkillyou, Andre.”

“I know.” His voice is flat, inflectionless. “I’m well aware of the stakes, Lucia.”

“You’d rather—”

“I’d rather die than hurt you again.” He cuts me off, his voice sharp as a knife, slicing through the tension between us. And yet,still, he doesn’t move to come to me, to touch me, to take me the way I know he must want to. The way a part ofmewants him to, because this would all be so much easier if he would decide this for both of us. But he doesn’t move.

If I want him, I’ll have to go to him.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” I whisper again, a note of desperation tinging my voice. It feelsimpossibleto believe.

“Let me show you,principessa.” His voice is almost raw now, drawing me towards him like a magnet. “Lucia.”

The way he says my name pierces my heart. He sounds like a man who has lost something, and who is sure that he is on the verge of losing something else. Something, perhaps, that he’s only just found.

Or perhaps, I’m imagining it all. But there’s only one way to find out.

I take one step, and another, and another. I cross the room, bare feet on the wooden floor, my heart beating so hard in my chest that it hurts. I can hear the rush of my blood in my ears, see the way he sits motionless on the bed, letting me come to him.

Letting me make the choice.

I climb onto the bed, slowly. I move closer to him, and it feels like approaching a statue that hasn’t yet come alive. This close, I can see his face, still only dimly lit, but as sharply handsome as ever. He’s shirtless, and I want to run my hands over him, to feel the hardmuscles of his chest and the ridges of his abs, totouchhim. I want it, and I can’t pretend that it’s anything but my own desire. He hasn’t touched me yet. He hasn’t even moved.

Slowly, I reach out and brush my fingers against his chest. I feel his sharp intake of breath, the way he stiffens under my hand, and I fight the urge to drop my hand lower and find out if he’s already stiff there, too. Instead, I lean up, pressing my other palm to his cheek, and I go up on my knees as I lean in for a kiss.

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