“Do you remember what you said to me after I called you a princess the first time?”
“I do. Do you?” Her lips weren’t as tight, but her head was cocked.
“You told me I could be your head warrior.” He’d never forget the insult he’d felt when he’d thought she was different from others. But he brushed it off because she’d never said another thing like that again.
Not a king. Not her equal. But someone who worked for her.
“You’re frowning. Why?” she asked.
“Because that is how I think of us. The one who calls the shots, and the one who is paid to follow those orders.”
She reached over and pinched his toe. “Stop! You’re going to put me in a bad mood. Do you know why I called you a warrior?”
“Why?” he asked, leaning back to act as if he wasn’t all that interested. “Enlighten me.”
“Because kings are old and boring. People are only attracted to kings because of their titles. But the warrior? All the women want thewarrior. The strong one that will protect you. That will step up and take no shit. The one that normally stands up to the king because the king knows he needs the warrior and has to watch himself.”
He was pretty sure his mouth opened. “Get out.” Guess he was wrong all along.
“Nope. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. You can believe what you want. But me, I want the warrior. I always have. I got the king and he was a dick.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“Who?” Not that he was sure he wanted to know too much about her exes.
Her nose twitched some. “Do you really want to know about my past relationships?”
He shrugged. “If you want to share.”
“Are you going to?”
“I have little to share with you,” he said. “Or nothing you want to hear.”
“I want to hear more than you want to share. I think. Maybe not.”
“See,” he said, laughing. “Tell me about your dickhead king.”
“He wasn’t really a king, but he was a dickhead,” she said.
“Name?”
“Victor.”
“Sounds like a douche.”
“He ended up that way,” she said. “After the fact, my parents said they didn’t like him. Wish they had told me all of that before I spent almost two years with him.” Her foot came out, her toe rubbing on his leg. “They like you.”
He wouldn’t address the statement. “Victor?”
“Oh, Victor. He worked in finance.”
Figures. “So you had that in common.”
“No, he’s a financial planner. Or was. He’s junior VP now. He got the title right before we split. Which was two years ago. He said all the right things at the right times. Dressed appropriately for every occasion, took me to nice romantic dinners, had flowers and chocolates for me without prompting.”
“Sounds like a suck-up to me,” he said drily.
Nothing he’d even think of doing.
