“Is it a bullseye?” she asks.
I need to break this spell, and I need to do itnow.
I take a step back.
The right decision. Theonlydecision.
Clearing my throat, I gesture at the target. “That is indeed a bullseye. Well done, Fabiana. You're a natural.”
Her full lips pull into a grin, her whole face lighting up. “I can’t believe it! I suspect we make a good team, Max.”
Why is she looking at me like that, like she means what she says, that we do make a good team?
“Can we try again?” she asks, already reaching for another arrow.
I want to say no. Ioughtto say no. I should collect my bow and arrows, bid heradieu, and walk away.
But instead, I hear myself saying, “Let's see if we can replicate the same magic, shall we?”
This time, when I position myself behind her, I make sure not to allow my body to touch her back. But despite my care, just as before, my heart rate leaps.
I tighten my jaw.
What kind of a masochist am I that I’m deeply drawn to a woman I hate?
Or at least a woman thought I hated.
Man, this is beyond confusing.
She pulls back the bow at the wrong angle, and I adjust her grip. Then she forgets to hold the arrow against the bow, and it drops to the ground.
“I thought I was doing it right,” she says in frustration as she collects the bow in her hand.
“You're overthinking it. Just let it happen.”
As the words leave my mouth, they seem loaded, and she snaps her attention to me. “What do you mean?”
WhatdoI mean?
I’m talking about archery. That’s all. Nothing else going on here.
I press my lips together before responding. “Archery is as much about instinct as it is about your technique. You need to feel the bow and arrow, allow it to become an extension of yourself.”
“That's easy for you to say. I bet you've been doing this since you were in nappies.”
“You think I started archery lessons as a toddler?” I ask, thankful for the chance to make a joke, to release some of this excruciating tension between us.
“Isn't that what you do when you're royalty? Learn allthe outdated practices that are of no use in the modern world?”
“Such as?”
“Archery, obviously, and how to rock a crown.”
I arch a brow. “You think I had actual lessons on how to wear a crown?”
“Why not? You're a member of the royal family. You and crowns are synonymous.”
“Ah, but you forget, I'm the last born. The only crown I will ever wear is a paper one from a Christmas cracker.”
