“How was it different?”
My knees wobbled beneath his scrutiny. “We were surrounded by people who care about you. Plus, you only had two beers all evening. I watched you.”
He scowled. “Can’t get anything by you, can I?”
“Nope.” I swallowed hard. “You’re still in pain. I can tell.”
His jaw clenched but he forced himself to relax. “It’s nothing, Buttercup.” Kissing me swiftly, he whispered, “Forget about what happened. Forget about what’s about to happen. And let’s just enjoy tonight, okay?”
I nodded but I didn’t agree. How could I forget about what’d happened when his father had started this mess? How could I forget when it was all I thought about?
For the first time, I let my thoughts slip through my iron control.
My worry wasn’t just about his concussion. Or his pigheaded belief he could extract revenge without being hurt. It wasn’t even about him living a life still shackled so heavily to the past.
It’s because I’m worried he’ll die. That he’ll arrange a war and perish because of it.
I threw a mouthful of chilled wine down my throat. I hated worrying. I hated not knowing. I’d lived for far too long not knowing and I wouldn’t do it any longer. Arthur was mine—therefore he was my responsibility and I would be damned if I let him get hurt again.
“We could just leave …,” I whispered, twirling the stem of my glass.
Arthur froze. “You want to go home?”
Home. Where was home? Dagger Rose was gone. Pure Corruption was still too new. We can start a new home.
Looking into his eyes, I begged him to understand. “We could go somewhere, just us. We’re together again. We always said we were each other’s home.” Urgency filled me. I grabbed his wrist, sloshing his champagne. “We could just go. Move overseas. Start again.”
Like I did.
Become new people.
Hide.
Arthur stiffened. His eyes hooded. “You want me to just walk away? After all this time? When I’m so fucking close?” His voice never rose above a whisper but the steely tone whipped my heart.
“Why would that be so terrible? You’re beyond wealthy. You have no reason to stay—”
“No reason?” Arthur ran an agitated hand through his hair, disturbing his ponytail so he looked even more untamed and unpredictable. “I have so many fucking reasons.”
How on earth had this happened? All we seemed to do these days was go from closeness to clashing.
Then again, I had just asked if he’d drop everything and run away with me—in the middle of a war and who knew what else. Not exactly fair.
Whoops.
I only did it because I’m petrified.
“Forget I said anything.” I laid my hand on his sleeve. “It was selfish of me. I know you have responsibilities here. I’m just—you can’t be mad at me for loving you so much that I want to keep you safe. To never share you.”
The fib rolled off my tongue and I let the truth sink into darkness. I loved him; that was real. But I was also worried that he would go too far. That his thirst for vengeance overshadowed everything—even me.
He sucked in a breath, his eyes never leaving mine. He knew I offered an olive branch, but at the same time he was wary that I wasn’t entirely happy.
Sighing, he nodded. “Buttercup, you have my ultimate word. When this week is over and everything has gone to plan, we’ll go away. Just the two of us. We’ll go wherever you want. England to visit your foster family, or some tropical hideaway in the middle of nowhere. Whatever you need, I’ll do.” Bringing me close, he breathed, “Okay?”
I swooned into him, pressing my cheek against his tie. “Okay.”
Just please let this week go smoothly. Please don’t get hurt.
The tension between us disappeared as quickly as it’d arrived. Arthur let me go, taking another sip of his drink.
His throat tensed as he swallowed and once again desire thickened my blood. His chest rippled as he moved, every inch of his tailored suit hugging his incredible physique. Women watched him, interest sparking in their gaze despite wedding rings wreathing their fingers.
I’m completely out of my depth.
And completely possessive.
“You’re far too handsome for your own good dressed in that …” I waved at him as if his perfectly sewn suit offended me.
My petulant voice rose Arthur’s eyebrow while a sexy smirk twisted his lips. “What did you just say?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You heard me.”
A sly glint glowed in his gaze. “You’re right. I did hear you.” Taking a step, our bodies aligned like colliding asteroids. “Are you jealous of them looking? Doesn’t it turn you on knowing you’re the only one who gets to see what’s under my suit? That you’re the only one who holds this.” Stealing my hand, he placed my fingers over his heart.
He brushed his lips against my ear. “Because I get hard seeing the way men look at you, knowing you belong to me and only me.”
His breath sent goose bumps splattering down my arms.
Chuckling, he let me go and I took a reinforcing sip of chilled bubbles. “Let’s just say I prefer you in mud-stained jeans and weathered leather.”