Page 243
“Do you?”
The words were cutting, concerning. Closer to the bone than he would’ve liked.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? The philosophy of the purpose of man is for men who don’t have purpose. And there are many rich men who don’t. I do. It is to serve this country.”
“Now that your purpose isn’t throwing yourself in your mother’s face at every opportunity?”
“Indeed.”
“But don’t you think there’s something in there? Something that you need to…dissect?”
His lip curled. “No. I don’t. At least, nothing of any value or virtue.”
“Virtue probably isn’t your strong point.”
He growled, and pushed her so she was lying on her back, and then he was over the top of her. “What did you see in me, Stevie? That night that you let me make love to you. When you had no idea who I was.”
“Well. You were very sexy.”
“You wanted me for my body?”
“Your body didn’t hurt. I knew that you were a powerful man,” she said. “There was something about you. I was drawn to you. I saw you first when you were sitting in the back of the bar. And, of course, I thought you were stunningly handsome.”
“You didn’t recognize me,” he said, and he felt something like desperation clawing at his chest. “So who did you think I was? Really. The heart of me. If I were to go out and meet my citizens for the first time, what would I show them?”
She frowned. “You showed them you today. You were…”
“I was a cardboard cutout. A stand-in. My name, my reputation, all of those things precede me. You met them fresh. You met them where they were, and I don’t know how to do that because I don’t know where I am.” He shook his head. “It’s that I want to build something. Something real. For my people. It is important.”
He realized that it was perhaps absurd, having her pinned to the mattress, her breasts bare, as he demanded answers to the difficult question ofwho he was.
But he wanted to know whom she saw. When she had decided to call him Clem. When she had seen him unconscious, bleeding, and had saved his life. When she had kissed him that last night. When they had danced together. When they’d had nothing, and somehow it had become everything. He had no power there. And yet there had been a peace… A peace that he didn’t feel outside of that place, and he wanted to figure out why.
“Adonis,” she said softly, reaching up and touching his face. “You were powerful and strong, and yet I felt safe with you. You were incapacitated, and yet you made me feel cared for. And yes, there’s something… Something that I can’t even explain. A magical feeling of just being drawn to you. Montana was home all my life, but I saw you, and suddenly something fit into place that wasn’t there before. And it was like you became home. When I said that I loved you today, I wasn’t simply spouting a line for the benefit of the press. I really meant it. I really mean it. I love you. I love you because of everything. And it’s hard to make a list. It’s hard to quantify. It’s hard to say why. Except that I didn’t think that I would ever find this. I didn’t even know that I wanted it. Because my father made love look like pain. So I didn’t think that I… It hasn’t been pain with you.”
God. He felt…undone. She had said that she didn’t want love, and now she was really professing hers to him? She had said that love had always looked like pain, and she was trusting him to make it not painful, when he didn’t even know where to begin. He didn’t know where to begin.
He felt wrecked by that. Utterly and completely.
Worse than the plane.
Worse than anything.
She would stay. She would stay unhappy and miserable. She would stay.
And yet, he had just introduced her to his people. He had just trotted around his next princess. She had to stay. He needed her. He needed her to show him who he was. To show him the way. Without her, what would he do?
“You can’t love me,” he said.
“But I do,” she said. “I just do. Trust me. I’m a pilot.”
He laughed. In spite of himself. Because it was such an absurd thing to say, and Stevie was rarely absurd. “Why does that make you an expert in this?”
“I’m very good in high-pressure situations. Also in navigating. Also… You just have to trust me.”
“But how?”
It was a question about everything. How he could trust her, how she could love him.
The words were cutting, concerning. Closer to the bone than he would’ve liked.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? The philosophy of the purpose of man is for men who don’t have purpose. And there are many rich men who don’t. I do. It is to serve this country.”
“Now that your purpose isn’t throwing yourself in your mother’s face at every opportunity?”
“Indeed.”
“But don’t you think there’s something in there? Something that you need to…dissect?”
His lip curled. “No. I don’t. At least, nothing of any value or virtue.”
“Virtue probably isn’t your strong point.”
He growled, and pushed her so she was lying on her back, and then he was over the top of her. “What did you see in me, Stevie? That night that you let me make love to you. When you had no idea who I was.”
“Well. You were very sexy.”
“You wanted me for my body?”
“Your body didn’t hurt. I knew that you were a powerful man,” she said. “There was something about you. I was drawn to you. I saw you first when you were sitting in the back of the bar. And, of course, I thought you were stunningly handsome.”
“You didn’t recognize me,” he said, and he felt something like desperation clawing at his chest. “So who did you think I was? Really. The heart of me. If I were to go out and meet my citizens for the first time, what would I show them?”
She frowned. “You showed them you today. You were…”
“I was a cardboard cutout. A stand-in. My name, my reputation, all of those things precede me. You met them fresh. You met them where they were, and I don’t know how to do that because I don’t know where I am.” He shook his head. “It’s that I want to build something. Something real. For my people. It is important.”
He realized that it was perhaps absurd, having her pinned to the mattress, her breasts bare, as he demanded answers to the difficult question ofwho he was.
But he wanted to know whom she saw. When she had decided to call him Clem. When she had seen him unconscious, bleeding, and had saved his life. When she had kissed him that last night. When they had danced together. When they’d had nothing, and somehow it had become everything. He had no power there. And yet there had been a peace… A peace that he didn’t feel outside of that place, and he wanted to figure out why.
“Adonis,” she said softly, reaching up and touching his face. “You were powerful and strong, and yet I felt safe with you. You were incapacitated, and yet you made me feel cared for. And yes, there’s something… Something that I can’t even explain. A magical feeling of just being drawn to you. Montana was home all my life, but I saw you, and suddenly something fit into place that wasn’t there before. And it was like you became home. When I said that I loved you today, I wasn’t simply spouting a line for the benefit of the press. I really meant it. I really mean it. I love you. I love you because of everything. And it’s hard to make a list. It’s hard to quantify. It’s hard to say why. Except that I didn’t think that I would ever find this. I didn’t even know that I wanted it. Because my father made love look like pain. So I didn’t think that I… It hasn’t been pain with you.”
God. He felt…undone. She had said that she didn’t want love, and now she was really professing hers to him? She had said that love had always looked like pain, and she was trusting him to make it not painful, when he didn’t even know where to begin. He didn’t know where to begin.
He felt wrecked by that. Utterly and completely.
Worse than the plane.
Worse than anything.
She would stay. She would stay unhappy and miserable. She would stay.
And yet, he had just introduced her to his people. He had just trotted around his next princess. She had to stay. He needed her. He needed her to show him who he was. To show him the way. Without her, what would he do?
“You can’t love me,” he said.
“But I do,” she said. “I just do. Trust me. I’m a pilot.”
He laughed. In spite of himself. Because it was such an absurd thing to say, and Stevie was rarely absurd. “Why does that make you an expert in this?”
“I’m very good in high-pressure situations. Also in navigating. Also… You just have to trust me.”
“But how?”
It was a question about everything. How he could trust her, how she could love him.
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