“We’re only having one,” he said.
“Planning to get drunk before dinner with your family?” she asked, about to lift the glass to her lips.
Ronan wrapped his fingers around her wrist, the gentle hold keeping her from drinking. “We’re not having dinner with my family. We’re eating in our room.”
She blinked at him, lowering her hand. “What? Why?”
“You had a stressful day, and you don’t need to deal with my parents’ bullshit on top of it,” he said.
At his words, she seemed to wilt before him, as though she’d forgotten what happened earlier in the castle gardens. Without speaking, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a healthy swallow. Ronan did the same.
Then, he walked over and took her hand, guiding her to the sofa. “Sit with me.”
Her blue-green gaze was curious and a bit guarded. She still didn’t trust him, and he had no one to blame but himself.
Once they sat down, Ronan reached over and lifted her legs, so they were draped across his lap. Her robe fell open, revealing their bare length. Dominique tucked the silk between her thighs, covering the top half of her legs. Ronan rested his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin.
She studied him as she sipped her nightwine again. After she swallowed, she asked, “Having second thoughts about this wedding yet?”
“Absolutely not,” he answered without hesitation.
His response seemed to take her by surprise. “Really? My scheming family wasn’t enough to change your mind?”
“Nope.” He drained the rest of his glass and set it to the side. “Though that reminds me…”
“What?” she asked, sitting up a bit straighter.
“When we get back to the human realm, we’ll need to arrange to have your things moved into my house.”
Dominique tensed at his words.
Ronan ignored it and continued, “We’ll have to make sure the house is safe for Oscar before you move though, so I’ll be staying with you until that’s done.”
She still didn’t anything, just sat there, blinking rapidly as she looked at him.
“I meant to hire a decorator when I bought the place but never got around to it, so you can bring whatever furniture you’d like with you, or we can purchase new things that fit the house. It’s up to you. I really don’t care either way.”
Still no response. Though she did drink the last of her nightwine in one long swallow.
Finally, Ronan asked, “Are you okay?”
Dominique nodded, her head bobbing slowly as she slipped her legs off his lap and got to her feet. He watched as she walked around behind the couch and poured herself another half a glass of nightwine.
He winced when her back was to him. This was not going well. He’d never had to work for someone’s attention or affection. Except from his parents, and he’d long since given up hope of attaining either from them.
Everyone else he met usually gave him both in spades, usually for their own agenda. He’d never had to work for either, so he wasn’t quite sure where to start.
Dominique settled back on the couch and some of his concern faded when she resumed her position with her legs over his lap.
“What happened to not wanting to be hungover?” he asked.
“This is my last glass,” she replied.
“Do you think that being married to me will be that horrible?” he asked.
“I imagine that being married to someone who dislikes you isn’t pleasant,” she murmured before she drank deeply from her glass.
Ronan’s hand clutched her ankle, his firm grip gaining her complete attention. “I don’t dislike you.”
