CHAPTER FIFTEEN #3
She shook her head derisively. “Don’t be upset,” she said. “I know you love me, and I know you’d do whatever you could for me, but you’re not that selfish. You care about people too much and are too noble to abandon your duty. Even for me.”
Gently, Deckard pushed Evylin off him, pulling free of her touch. He didn’t want to be reminded of his duty. Nor did he care to be touted as some altruistic paragon of virtue. “We should go,” he said flatly and rose from the bed.
“Jonn, don’t pout,” she said with good-natured humor.
“I’m not pouting,” he insisted.
Evylin’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “I can feel what you’re feeling, remember?”
Deckard sighed. “Yes, all right, I am pouting,” he admitted. “But it isn’t exactly pleasant to learn your wife views you as a liar.”
Her smile softened, and she held out her hands. “Come here.”
He did.
Threading their fingers, Evylin knelt on the bed, pulling their hands to her chest. Her amber eyes searched his knowingly.
“None of that matters to me,” she said. “What I once wanted—the life of adventure you promised to give me—it doesn’t matter anymore.
Whatever comes, whatever our Bond brings, I am yours, and you are mine.
Who cares what life looks like so long as we’re together? ”
“I care,” Deckard said, leaning closer. “I made a promise to you, Evylin. I made a promise to your uncle too. I care because I want you to be happy and to have the life you’ve always deserved.”
The air seemed to dance between them. “I am happy,” she promised.
“Are you?” he asked, searching her gaze for the truth. “Or are you just content because we’re in love, we’ve Bonded, and you don’t have to worry about losing me?”
“I’m under no illusions that I may not lose you still.” Her grip tightened. “But I have chosen to love you and leave behind that fear.”
A determined emotion thickened the air as she continued, “There have been too many times in the past that misunderstandings have come between us, when we’ve let them draw us apart. So let me be perfectly clear: Yes, Jonn, I am happy. Truly and deeply happy.”
Struggling to believe her despite the ring of truth in her voice, Deckard nodded, accepting her words despite his reservations.
She tipped her brow up, pressing him. “Are you happy?”
Deckard blinked at the unexpected question.
“Or are you angry?” she asked at his hesitation.
That caused his mouth to gape. “Why would I be angry?”
“You seem angry,” she said. “I’ll admit I’m still new to this ‘feeling what you feel’ thing, but there is a decided irritation in your . . . aura at the moment.”
Deckard sighed. “I’m just concerned.”
“About what the Alliance will require of us?”
“Yes.”
“Because you promised Auden you’d do whatever they asked?”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
“And you think they’ll ask us to rule their new country.”
“I do.”
“And you don’t want to rule?”
“Do you?” he asked, certain that she didn’t.
Evylin grimaced. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”
“Neither would I.”
The look she gave him was hard to read.
“But this is what I do know—” He brushed his thumbs along hers.
“We will choose our own destiny, not the Alliance. And if that means I have to go back on my word to Auden, I will because I made a promise to you first. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, no matter what that looks like.”
Evylin remained motionless beneath his touch, her gaze softening.
A tangle of emotions emanated from her, yet Deckard struggled to decipher them.
It was as if several feelings were intertwined, each vying for prominence.
He guessed that interpreting the genuine range of a partner’s emotions after Bonding required practice.
While he was preoccupied with sorting out her reaction, Evylin didn’t wait. She leaned in and kissed him, the motion wild and dangerous. Her hands jerked free of his to clamp onto his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
A jolt of energy spiked through Deckard’s chest, his magic lurching in reaction.
He gripped her hips, trying to push her back.
“Evie,” he gasped around her amorous kisses.
Rejecting her desires was the last thing he wanted to do, but they didn’t have time for such exploits.
“Evie, as—” He slipped free of her kiss only for her to begin accosting his jaw, cheek, and neck with her affection.
“As much as I’d love to continue this—” He gave a final shove, pushing her back to a seat on the bed while darting away from her touch. “We really have to leave.”
Her gaze was fierce. “They’ll wait.”
Deckard couldn’t stop the tremble that went through him as he finally recognized the emotion coursing in the air between them as desire. “I’m sure they would,” he said weakly. “As I’m sure Rafferty would have a pleasant time guessing at the reason for our tardiness.”
Evylin slunk forward on the bed. “Are we late yet?” she asked seductively.
“Not quite.”
She smirked. “But we will be.”
Deckard wet his bottom lip. “Only if you don’t get moving.”
“What if I move . . . slowly?”
His next words caught at the intonation of her tone. “Then we would be late.”
“In that case,” Evylin’s fingers caught the waistband of his trousers and tugged, “we may as well be a bit later.”