“Welcome to my home,” she said lamely, chewing on her bottom lip. “I know it’s not much.”
He smiled and grabbed her desk chair to have a seat. “I love it.”
She held out an arm to block his descent. “I don’t know if that will hold you.”
He frowned down at the chair. “Your furniture is not safe?” Now that he looked at it, the woodwork did look shoddy.
Picking up the repugnant piece of furniture, he debated the best way to break it into a thousand pieces.
Amelia grabbed the other side of the chair. “What are you doing?”
“This doesn’t need to be in here if it’s unsafe,” he said, wondering why she’d want a chair that could kill her. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“My chair is fine,” she protested, trying to tug it from his grasp. “Just because it won’t hold your gigantic body doesn’t mean it won’t hold mine.”
He narrowed his eyes at the piece of furniture. “I would rather not chance it.”
“Put my chair down,” she said sternly, making him smile.
It creaked when he set it down, earning another glare from him. “Where would you like me to sit?”
She motioned to the bed behind her, and his smile turned wolfish. “Not for that,” she huffed. “Sit.”
Rennick lowered himself onto the small bed, grabbed her around the waist, and brought her to his lap.
She squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. “I can sit down on my own.”
“I didn’t want you to sit in the chair,” he half-lied.
Extracting herself from his hold, she stood and turned to face him. “You said if I had questions, you would answer them.”
Curiosity was a good sign. “Ask whatever you wish.”
She hesitated a moment before crossing to her desk and removing a stack of papers from the top drawer. Rennick tried to read them over her arm, but after picking up the first page, she stuffed the others back inside the old desk.
“I kept a list.” She sheepishly held out the paper. “I didn’t want to forget anything if you came for me.”
“If?” he echoed. “You thought I’d not come?” Had he not been clear in his letters?
She sat down beside him with a half-hearted smile. “Sometimes I thought your letters were in my imagination.” Her handgestured toward her closet. “The gifts you sent were the only pieces of tangible evidence I had to prove you were real.”
“You kept them all?” His chest swelled with pride. “I was afraid you didn’t like some of them because I never saw you use them.”
Amelia squirmed, and he could feel the guilt as if it was his own.
“You didn’t like them?”
“It’s not that,” she replied, choosing each word carefully. He didn’t miss the fisting of her hands when she said, “Ora and I don’t have the same tastes.”
Her jealousy pricked at his insides, and he fought a grin. It was nice to know things weren’t one sided.
“She is an old friend. Finn and I have known her since we were children.” He leaned down and softly kissed the top of her head. “Nothing and no one in this world could compare to you.” He tapped his chest. “Can’t you feel it?”
She ignored his explanation and peeked over the edge of the paper in his hand. “Question number three.”
He scanned the page.“Why can’t I feel your emotions?”
Setting the paper down, he studied her carefully. She should be able to feel his emotions. A royal and their mate could feel each other’s emotions immediately, but then again, a royal had never been mated to someone without magic before.
