I’d give this time. Give her a chance to get to know me better. And hold onto my heart while I did it in case she eventually did reject me.
It felt good to have a plan, even if it wasn’t much more than watching and waiting.
I stepped away from the door and stripped off my tunic, tossing it into the basket. Magic whisked it away to the laundry, where it would be cleaned and returned to my closet.
I listened at the door a moment, hearing Sasha return from the bathing chamber, then left my room to use the facilities myself.
Standing at the sink, I stared into the mirror above, noting my flushed skin and disheveled hair. My lips pink from our kiss.
I looked like a man who was falling for his new wife.
Which was accurate and terrifying.
I’d kissed people before, of course. Court flirtations that meant very little, brief encounters that satisfied physical needs without emotional risk. I’d experienced nothing like this.
I washed and returned to my room, stripping off my pants and collapsing on the bed. Sleep didn’t come. My mind kept going through the evening. The way she’d kissed me back.
Eventually, I drifted to sleep, my dreams full of dark hair and strategic minds and plants that bloomed in response to our connection.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DOMINIC
Three days passed with meals shared together in our suite and days spent investigating the wilted plants and giggling, without coming to any new conclusions.
We questioned everyone who might have contact with our food and beverages, but found no correlation between them. That’s when we decided it must be someone using magic or lacing food and drink with something that can cause uncontrollable laughter.
At the end of each day, we’d sit on the balcony or in front of the fire and have long conversations about everything from court politics to childhood memories, each moment shadowed by the awareness of what happened outside our bedroom doors.
We’d been careful. No more kisses and no repeat of that explosive passion. We were building something slower, more intentional.
It was driving me slowly mad.
“You’re staring,” Sasha said from where she sat on the sofa on the fourth morning. We’d decided we’d dinedownstairs this morning, and she was waiting for me to finish some paperwork at my desk.
Which I hadn’t gotten done.
“Am I?” I asked.
“You’ve been staring at that piece of paper for at least ten minutes.” Amusement shone in her eyes. “Either it’s fascinating, or you’re distracted.”
“Maybe it’s a very interesting note from one of my advisors.”
“Is it a philosophical one? A note with hidden depths?”
“You guessed it.” I grinned. “It’s a contemplative note. Very deep.”
Actually, it discussed what decorations we might want to use for the ball we’d host after the festival.
Sasha laughed, and the sound made my chest warm.
“We should probably discuss the festival preparations,” she said. “It’s only a week away.”
“Must we?”
“You’re the king. Festival oversight is literally your responsibility.”
“I’m aware.” I sighed dramatically. “But discussing municipal planning is significantly less interesting than watching you.”
