His stomach twisted at the thought of how little time they had left together. Here, now, with her in his arms, it all felt right somehow. She knew the truth about him, and she accepted it. She didn’t care about money. Hell, she didn’t even know why his last name mattered. He was no one here. No one but who he was to her. And at the moment, that was enough.
“I think the sharing of each other’s secrets deserves some celebratory ice cream.” She slid her hand into his.
“You have ice cream?”
“We do, although my mom says it’s different than yours.” She guided him to a street vendor where she ordered a cup of something that was fluorescent orange and tasted like mashed avocado whipped with chocolate. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t what he thought of when he heard the words ice cream.
“Do you like it?” she asked around a bite.
He hesitated to answer, not wanting to dull the mood. “I like eating it with you.” Lord, he hated that it wasn’t a line. He meant every word. This breakup was going to hurt.
She responded with a soft blush that melted his heart. “Will you help me pick out Christmas gifts for my family?”
“Sure.”
Shop after shop, they chatted about traditional Christmas gifts: Nordic sweaters, sleds, gaudy Christmas ties. None of his ideas were appropriate for Paragon, but they found a lovely scented candle for her mother and a pair of gold cuff links for her father. Jewels, he learned, were so ubiquitous in Paragon as to be as inexpensive as plastic to its residents, but gold, which came from Nochtbend, was highly valuable.
“What do you think of this for my aunt Avery?” Charlotte asked, showing him an ankle-length duster that looked like it was made of silk but was as light as air to the touch.
“I don’t know your aunt, but it seems like something a woman would like.” He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “I’ve never felt material like this.”
“It’s vilt. Very fine vilt. The woman who owns this store is one of a kind, a master weaver.”
He dropped the edge of the garment. “As a princess, I’m surprised you don’t have a closet full of this stuff.”
“I could if I wanted it. I have a few pieces that I wear when I need dignitaries to take me seriously. But to wear it all the time would be pretentious and potentially alienate me from the commoners of Paragon. I’ve always made it my goal to be approachable.”
He shook his head, overwhelmed by feelings of respect for her. She’d told him she was twenty-five in Earth years, but it was clear to him that she was far more mature than any human woman he’d ever met. “I wonder if your parents know what they have in you? You’re not just a princess, Charlotte, you’re a leader, and a really good one. I hope that this Christmas thing does what you want it to do, because I think your parents have severely underestimated you.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you for that.” She moved toward the checkout, placing the duster on the counter along with a tunic she’d already picked out for her aunt Clarissa. “Sometimes I think my family is just too close to see me clearly. Do you know what I mean?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do.” For some reason, his voice was all grit. God, his chest was going to collapse thinking about not being the one to see her when no one else did, to tell her exactly how magnificent she was every single day. He swallowed. “I see you, Charlie. And I feel lucky to know you. There’s no one like you. Not anywhere.”
A gorgeous blush stained her cheeks and she turned away quickly, her expression growing serious as she paid for the items with money he learned was called dragmars. He’d made a fool of himself admitting how he felt about her. The space between them seemed to widen, an awkward tension pressing into the room.
She grabbed the bags and hooked them over one arm. “I’m ready to go back to the palace.”
Silently, he took her bags and walked her back to the carriage. Once they were alone inside and the wheels were turning toward home, she finally spoke.
“I don’t think there’s anyone like you either, Liam. I know you said you didn’t want to touch me, that you were afraid to promise me something you couldn’t deliver. What if I told you that I have no expectations? I know how this ends.” She glanced down at her fingers, tangled in her lap. “And I still want you. We’ll never get this time back. I just want to know what it’s like to be with you before we have to say goodbye. Is that so bad?”
Liam couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his body could. His body was ready to give her what she wanted instantly. A lump formed in his throat, and his tongue seemed to swell to three times its normal size. The ice that had protected his heart when he’d arrived three days ago had long since melted, and there was nothing left between him and her besides his will and a few bags of Christmas gifts. He kicked the latter aside with his foot. As for his will, he wanted her. Was there a moment he hadn’t? Was there a reason he shouldn’t? He didn’t remember. He didn’t care to.
He slid onto the seat beside her and draped his hand across her knee. Casually, he stroked up the inside of her thigh with the backs of his nails. “Your wish is my command, Princess.”
Chapter
Sixteen
Charlotte stared at Liam beside her. Surely her body would combust. He wasn’t scowling anymore. The only emotion she could read on his face was one of abject desire. And she was right there with him. A rush of heat gathered between her thighs, and she leaned toward him, her lips parting in anticipation. He didn’t disappoint. He captured her mouth with his, his big body pressing against hers, perched on the edge of the bench.
She lost herself in that kiss. His tongue stroked hers, teasing, tempting. His fingers dug into her hair, their tug against her scalp a demand. Reaching up, she clasped the base of his neck, their kiss becoming almost brutal with their need. For the first time ever, she wished she were the type of woman to wear dresses. She wanted to straddle him, right there in the cab, have him inside her before her next breath.
As it was, the heady kiss ended when the carriage pulled to a stop. Liam broke from her, grabbing the packages and holding them in front of his hips before the driver opened the door. Charlie wiped a hand over her face, knowing the move probably wouldn’t disguise what they’d been doing. The driver was a dragon and most assuredly could smell the lust coming off them. He’d likely notice her swollen lips too.
Lucky for both of them, the servants of the palace were known for their discretion. The driver barely looked their way as she stepped down behind Liam, and they strode side by side at a respectable distance into the palace. No one seemed overly concerned by their passage through the halls to her chambers either. Although they greeted a member of the housekeeping staff, she didn’t say a word other than hello or give them so much as a sideways look. Still, she was relieved it was only the servants and not her uncles they ran into before slipping inside her chambers and locking the door behind them.
He dropped the bags on the sofa and stripped off the leather jacket he’d borrowed from Alexander, throwing it beside them. “Charlotte, if this isn’t what you want, tell me now. I can hardly breathe—I want to be inside you so bad. Don’t tease me if you’ve changed your mind.”
