Later that night, once Stefan is gone and the dinner hour is long past, I send for Robin.
The plan is simple: I’ll make love to her, let off the pressure building in my chest, and regain my equilibrium. Sex has always been my solution to emotional complications—physical release for psychological tension.
When she appears in my doorway, wearing that soft nightdress that makes me want to tear it off her, I expect the usual dance. Her nervous energy, my advance, the sweet surrender that follows. Instead, she crosses her arms and plants her feet like she’s preparing for battle.
“You know what?” she says, her voice steady and strong. “You think you’re some mysterious ice queen, but the fact is, you’re just a jerk.”
I blink, startled into surprised laughter. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean it.” Robin’s blue eyes flash. “I’ve had enough of your games. Stop blowing hot and cold.”
The steel in her voice catches me completely off guard. This isn’t the soft, yielding Robin who melts under my touch. This is someone new—someone with spine and boundaries and zero patience for my emotional manipulation.
“I’m not your blow-up doll, Novak,” she continues. “I’m a human being. You want me in your bed, available whenever you want? Thenyoucommit to being available to me—emotionally. At least for as long as I’m here. No one else has to know—not the staff, not the villagers, not your uncle—but I deserve more than this on-again, off-again bullshit.”
I stare at her, something unfamiliar unfurling in my chest. Admiration, maybe. Respect. She’s very angry—color high in her cheeks, eyes blazing, every inch of her radiating self-righteous indignation. God, she’s annoying.
And I want her.
A slow smile tugs at my lips. “You’re demanding a commitment from me?”
“I’m demanding basic human decency.” Robin lifts her chin even higher, defiant. “Think you can manage that?”
The challenge in her voice excites me. I’ve had women beg, bargain, threaten, and manipulate to get closer to me. But none of them has everdemanded better.
None of them has ever looked at me with such disgust and simply told me to grow up.
“Fine. I agree to your terms.” I move closer until I can smell her strawberry scent once more—light and sweet, it makes me think of the spring mornings that are creeping closer across the mountains.
“If you mean it,” Robin says, her voice softer now but no less determined, “then kiss me like you mean it.”
Not kiss me like you want me or like you need me—like youmean it. As if she can see past all my games and walls and armor to something real underneath.
Something worth wanting.
I step close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin. My fingers graze her jaw, tracing the delicate line from her ear to her chin. “Robin.”
“Eva.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but there’s no uncertainty in it now. Only challenge and invitation and something that might be…
Hope.
I take my time kissing her. No games, no power plays, no seduction. Just the taste of her mouth and the difficult truth that Ilikethis Robin. I like her fire, her demands, her refusal to let me hide behind cruelty.
The kiss deepens, and at last Robin melts into my arms with a soft sigh that goes straight to my clit.
But she doesn’t wait for me to lead, to control the pace. Her fingers tug at my shirt, pulling it from my waistband, eager to touch skin. I help her, hastily unbuttoning and shaking off my clothes. Her nails graze my stomach, sending shockwaves of desire through me.
I reach for the straps of her nightdress, slowly sliding them down her shoulders. The fabric slips to her waist, exposing her luscious breasts. I brush my thumb over a nipple, watching it tighten, then tug it gently.
With a challenging look, she reaches for my tits and scoops them out of my bra so she can mirror my actions, pinching my nipples until they harden into tight peaks. Her touch isn’t gentle or tentative; it’s bold and brazen.
Yes, I like this Robin very much.
“Do you plan on keeping your promise?” she whispers against my lips, her breath hot and demanding.
I don’t answer with words. Instead, I slide my hands down her sides so that her nightdress slips to the floor, leaving her bare, her curves pressing into mine. She makes a sound deep in her throat and wraps her arms around my neck, tugging me closer even as I press her against the wall.
“No more games, Eva,” she insists, pulling away just enough to speak.
