Her voice was quieter.“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”His hand traced down her spine, settling at the small of her back.“The women before were just…sex.This,” he said, voice deepening, “is a connection.It’s stronger.More dangerous in the best way.It’s not just a release.”He brushed his mouth over hers, a slow kiss that left no doubt.“It’s different.And you feel it too, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do it.Let’s get married.Let’s have little princes and princesses running wild.You can design outrageous playrooms for them and redecorate every house I own if that’s what you want.”
That’s when she stiffened, Mark’s voice slipping into her thoughts like a toxin.“You won’t try to convince me to stop working?”
He drew back just enough to look her in the eye.“Why the hell would I do that?”The question landed sharp.“You love transforming spaces,” he said firmly, as though the matter were already settled.Then his expression softened, his fingers stroking her hip.“I’ll have an entire team of bodyguards to protect you, but no way in hell would I take away what you love.”
“And…” she started, then stopped, realizing she was letting the past shadow her future.
“What?”he pressed, catching the flicker of worry in her eyes.
“You won’t…need a wife to make your lunch?”
He snorted.“I love to cook.I’ll make your lunch.”His finger traced her cheekbone, lingering there.“What else?”
“Dinner parties?Won’t you need someone to handle your social calendar?To play hostess when you entertain?”
Another low chuckle.“Honey, my father hosts constantly.I attend when I have to.You can join me or not—it’s your choice.I’m the Interior Minister; I have obligations, yes, but they’re mine to handle.I won’t expect you to put your ambitions aside for mine.”He kissed the curve of her stomach, his voice dipping lower.“And if I need help, I’ll hire it.I wouldn’t be so selfish as to expect you to do it all.”
“Really?”she whispered, searching his face.“You wouldn’t…?”
“Never,” he said simply.“If you want it in writing, I’ll sign it.”His gaze sharpened.“That’s what your ex demanded, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”The memory pulled her back to Mark’s recent visit.“He tried to speak to me the other day.”
Rylan stilled.“When?”
She curled closer, almost sheepish.“Last week.The day of the accident, actually.”
A low, irritated groan rumbled from his chest as his hand sifted through her hair.“That man is an ass.”
“I agree.”Her sigh was heavier this time.“For a while, I thought he was the one who hit me.”She hesitated, shaking her head.“But Henry?That’s just…insane.”
“You’re an excellent designer,” he said.
“Even though I haven’t done anything with your home?”
His grin was slow, knowing.He gathered her hair, letting it slide silk-like through his fingers.“I think the reason you’ve fallen behind is because I keep distracting you.”
She considered that, then nodded.“You’re right.I blame you entirely.”
He chuckled against her neck.“Good.Because I plan on distracting you for a very long time.”
She smiled, rolling closer until there was no space left between them.“Just a long time?”
His eyes swept down to her breasts, already peaked in invitation.“Several decades,” he corrected, before claiming her mouth again.
She laughed, the sound light and warm, enjoying the picture he was painting.It sounded wonderful—almost too good to be real—so all she could manage was, “Okay.”
His eyes widened, a spark of surprise and something sharper flashing there before he rolled over, pinning her beneath him.“Okay?”he pressed, his voice low, coaxing.“Just okay?”
Natalie’s lips curved as she slid her hands over his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair.“Okay,” she repeated, this time with more conviction.“Let’s do it.”
For a long moment, he simply looked at her, his gaze steady and searching, as if committing every detail of her face to memory.Then his voice dropped to a softer register, the weight of his sincerity threading through every word.“Thank you for coming into my life…for showing me what it’s supposed to feel like.”
