She ran her nails through his still wet hair. “I’m sorry about your boots.”
“I’ve never seen anyone have such a visceral reaction to food before,” Roman teased, his hand gliding down her back, leaving the slightest tingle in its wake.
Violet shrugged. “I’ve hated mayonnaise since I was a child. I can’t help that it makes me sick to my stomach.” She sighed and changed the subject. “Do we have to get up early?”
He tucked her head against his chest and kissed the top of her hair. “We do. You should get some sleep.”
Running her hand down his side, she tried to slip it under the band of his briefs. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”
Roman moved quickly, jumping out of bed like his ass was on fire. “You have no idea how hard the ride home to Saltu will be. As much as it pains me to say this,” he adjusted the bulge in his sleep pants, “you need as much rest as possible while we’re on the road.”
She sat up. “Why did you get up? And I can sleep in the carriage.”
Roman grunted and adjusted himself again. “Because if you keep touching me, I’ll give in. I won’t risk your well-being.”
Violet ran a hand down her chest, a pretend pout playing on her lips. “My well-being is declining as we speak.” Her hand continued its descent to grab the hem of her nightgown.
He crossed the room in record speed and caught her wrist. “Don’t you fucking dare, princess.”
Got him. “Or what, prince?”
Pulling her to her feet, he directed her to the small fainting couch in the corner. “Sit here, you little minx.”
Within seconds, he’d removed one of his shirts from his trunk and began ripping it into long strips.
“I know you like to sleep on your side with your hands tucked under your pillow,” he said conversationally as he continued to tear the shirt, “but tonight you’ll have your arms around me. Understood?”
The fainting couch might come in handy if he kept speaking to her that way. “How do you know how I like to sleep? I barely slept last night.” Instead, she’d dozed off a few times in the carriage.
“That’s not important,” he replied, shrugging her off.
She stood from the couch and closed the distance between them. “It is important.” The gifts. She’d forgotten how he’d snuck into her house from time to time to leave gifts over the years. “You remember from the times you snuck in at night to leave me gifts,” she guessed softly and smiled.
Something flashed across his face—guilt maybe—and he hesitated too long before saying, “Yes.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. He was hiding something. “Roman, how many times did you break into my house at night?”
“Break in?” He chuckled. “Two seconds ago you said I snuck in. Now it’s breaking and entering?”
“How many,” she repeated slowly.
The intensity in his gaze pinned her in place. “Seven times.”
Seven?More than seven gifts were left over the years. She stepped back. “Stop lying.”
He narrowed his eyes at her retreat. “A week.”
It took her a moment to put together his meaning, and when she did, she gasped. “You watched me sleep every night?” she shrieked. “For how long?” Her heart pounded. What had he seen? Racing through her memories, she tried to remember if she’d done anything embarrassing on nights she couldn’t sleep.
Roman prowled toward her. “For years.”
Her mouth opened and closed, and her back hit the door behind her. “What is wrong with you? Normal people don’t break into other’s homes and watch them sleep!”
He cocked his head to the side and considered her reaction. “It’s not breaking in if you left your window unlocked. Which is dangerous, by the way. You’re lucky I was there.”
“It is most definitely breaking in,” she argued. He’d lost his mind from one too many hits to the head during training. That had to be it.
“It’s not a big deal.”
