Page 26 of Some Like It Scandalous (Going Royal #2)

She closed her eyes, but didn’t intend for sleep—just a lazy drift on the pleasure still quaking in her bones.

They used to do this too—make love and then lie there together for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes saying nothing at all.

They didn’t always need words to fill in those empty spaces.

Being together was enough. Charlie’s breath was alternately cool and hot against her flushed skin.

Every nerve hummed. When he insisted on caressing her sides earlier, she didn’t think he could possibly be aware of just how sensitive she was to each touch.

She missed this. I missed him .

“I need to get off you.” His voice, muffled against her throat, skimmed the surface of her pleasure and doused it with a cold, hard reality.

He didn’t sound pleased.

“You’re fine.”

While he squashed her to the bed, she didn’t care. She liked the feeling of his weight over her, touching her, holding her. It made being together again real, but he rolled away as if she hadn’t spoken. He made it to the edge of the bed and sat, his back to her.

“Charlie?”

He glanced over his shoulder, but his unreadable expression seemed a far cry from the tender passion consuming them just minutes ago.

“I just need a moment, I’m going to wash up.

” He disappeared into the bathroom and she went cold.

Frost seemed to turn the room from a haze of hot pleasure to frozen tundra.

She reached for the T-shirt and pulled it on slowly. It took her longer to find her panties.

When he still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom, the last lingering dregs of pleasure dried up. Uneasy, she paced a step toward the bathroom and then away. Looking back, she found him standing in the doorway, a brooding look on his face.

“My apologies, Anna.” His voice—so cultured, so well mannered, so civilized—betrayed none of the husky tones he used when he issued orders just a little while before.

“For what?” She floundered, like someone had tossed her into the deep end of the pool and forgot to mention it had no bottom.

“For…for making love—we were not ready for that and we shouldn’t have.

” Absolute calm dominated his voice—calm and distance.

He’d dragged on a pair of pants while he was in the bathroom.

Shirtless with the top button undone on his slacks, he looked rakish.

But his expression wasn’t that of sexy fun or teasing. “I overstepped myself.”

“You’re apologizing to me?” She couldn’t quite believe her ears or her heart. Tension surged through her muscles and her right eye twitched.

“We came in here to talk and clear the air.”

“I think we cleared up a lot—” And I said I love you. But the last she held back, she didn’t even mean to hold it back, but…

You didn’t say you love me.

Her legs went rubbery and she sat abruptly on the edge of the bed. Her eyes burned, but she blinked them furiously, refusing to give in to tears. She didn’t look at Charlie, but he walked across the room to the sitting area. He picked up one of the wineglasses and drained the contents.

Controlling the urge to scream, she looked up to find him standing in front of her, wineglass in hand. She took it and sniffed once. “I wish you wouldn’t apologize for it. I thought…” What had I thought? That we’d have sex and it would all be better?

“Yes, I know.” He sat next to her, close enough to feel, but not quite touching. “And that is why I’m apologizing…”

God, no, you will not talk to me in that…that…prince voice. Not again. She surged to her feet, ignoring the wine she sloshed, and strode toward the door.

“So much for not running. We have hours left on your deal.” His voice, razor sharp, cut her stumbling steps to a halt. “Isn’t that what you said? All will be forgiven—no matter what we say or how angry we become?”

Pivoting slowly, she looked back. He stood at the edge of the bed, his hands in his pockets, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed. He walked toward her, slowly, almost stalking.

“That is what you said? We’ll rip the Band-Aid off?” His voice was lazy silk and steel twined together. It stroked her and cut her in the same breath. “We won’t dance around our mistakes—ask any question, get any answer…”

She backed into the door. He didn’t slow until he stood right in front of her. “You keep running, Anna.”

“I know.” She winced, and as much as she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. He seemed to draw all the light in the room—it shone against his black hair and rippled over the gleam of sweat on his skin.

“Do you? I buried my father and I needed you. You were there one moment and gone the next.” His nostrils flared. She thought she’d known what angry was like, but he was furious. With her or with himself—she wasn’t sure.

“I was stupid, Charlie. I was…foolish and na?ve and a whole lot of other words. I can’t apologize enough for the choice. It cost me—it cost you.”

“It cost us. ” He took a step back. “I blamed myself for it. I took issue with keeping the truth from you. You left—because you found out the truth, not because of the lie.” He stretched his hands out.

“And this is the truth. In this room, I am Charlie. I am free of the encumbrances of my title. I can be me. Out there? I am the Prince Armand, Grand Duke Andraste—and five thousand employees, servants, staff and family depend on me to keep my head. To see to their welfare. I don’t have a country.

I have a company. I have a family. This is my life, Anna. The bald truth of it.”

He stalked away to stand before the windows. The sunset in the distance and the illumination of it seemed surreal. They hadn’t been in that room long enough for the day to even end and yet?—

It seemed centuries.

Heart thundering in her ears, she wavered on the precipice. As melodramatic as it seemed, she knew their future waited on her decision.

“I’m only sorry we made love because I cannot offer you anything more now than I could then.

I am a prince without a nation, a grand duke with responsibilities, and they will not go away with our reunion.

I will never be that boy in college who shared an apartment and made do with a hodgepodge of furniture and a miniscule budget—enjoying water instead of wine because it was cheaper. I’m still the man you left before.”

Beneath the churning surface of his fury and ice echoed a sad wistfulness.

Setting her wineglass on the coffee table, she walked over, wrapped her arms around his middle and leaned her head against his back.

His skin seemed hot and cold. His rigid muscles loosened the longer she stood there, just holding him.

He finally settled a hand atop hers on his belly.

“I’m not sorry,” she murmured against his back. “I’m not sorry we made love—I can’t be. It was like being where I belonged and I won’t regret it—even if you decide I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sighed. “You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t demanded you come see me.”

“I’m here because I want to be here.” Doesn’t he love me just the least little bit?

“Anna—”

“No. You don’t have to say anything or mean anything or even promise anything.

” She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she meant them.

She loved him enough for both right now—if it took her the rest of her life to earn his forgiveness, well, then that was what she would do.

“I’m here. You’re here. We can talk—we can make love—we can play video games. ”

The lightness in the last fell flat, but he turned in her arms and wrapped her in his embrace. He tucked his chin against her head and she hid there, the illusion of safety better than any rejection. “It’s not fair to you…” he began.

“I don’t care. I just told you I’m not leaving.” Not again.

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Then let me at least send for supper.” He pulled free of her arms and walked over to the phone. This—a good portion of this—was her fault.

She wouldn’t let the prince push her away—not when she’d run from Charlie because of the prince before. They could fix this. She didn’t know how, but they had to be able to fix it. They’d just found each other again.