He untangled her hand from his body. “I will not seduce you, Kim. Nor you me. I have worked out an arrangement with Yihui. We are to pretend to be enamored of one another. Long enough for Prinny to become annoyed that I am not suffering under his supposed punishment.”
“What punishment?”
He waved his hand in a gesture meant to convey stupidity. “You know how Prinny is. He’s forcing our wedding because he thinks I’m completely against it.”
“You are completely against it?”
Maybe yes. For the most part. “I will pretend to enjoy my punishment, then become devastated when Yihui cries off. Prinny will see me despondent, believe me adequately punished, and so will allow this wedding nonsense to end. Then I can marry you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “After appearing despondent over losing Yihui?”
“Yes, but you will remind me of your charms, and I shall tumble head over heels in love with you.”
“With me? You won’t even kiss me. You’veneverkissed me.”
It was true, and now he saw how deeply that hurt her. For all the years he had known her, she’d seemed happy to live apart from him, to care for her dogs, and speak of their engagement in “whenever” terms. It was only lately that she had begun to press him. And only tonight that she spoke about passion.
“Kim,” he rasped, suddenly overwhelmed by how deeply he’d hurt her. “I’m so sorry.”
She pressed the palm of her hand against his chest. It was the warmest gesture he’d ever received from her. Her hand lay flat there, her fingers long, and he covered it with his own.
“I am crying off, Max.”
“But—”
“Neither of us want to wed. I could have brought you up to scratch years ago, but I let you delay and delay.”
“Prinny prefers bachelors as his confidents. It’s what Lord Benedict asked me to do. It’s how I serve—”
“I know. And I allowed it because I don’t want to marry you.”
He sighed. Just like an older sister, she made him admit things he didn’t want to acknowledge. “We’ve never really suited, have we?”
“Of course, we do,” she said. “As friends. As brother and sister, perhaps, but we’d make terrible lovers.”
“And you want passion in your marriage bed.”
“Don’t you?”
Yes. But he knew better than to expect it. “What will you do?” he pressed.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to make the social rounds.”
She was going to hate that.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll help however I can. Do you want me to stay away from you? Shall I act piqued? Shall I—”
“Pine for me?”
“I will do it if you want.”
She snorted. “I think you are doing altogether too much playacting, Max. I think you should act exactly as you would with a good friend. We shall dance together occasionally. We will laugh with one another rather more than usual, I think. And we will show the world that neither of us ever cared for the other.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“You know what I mean.”
He did. She wanted his friendship, not his passion. And that suited him just fine. “You have always been my true friend.”
