Chapter 65

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The kiss left her confused and aching.

She had expected him to say something afterward. He hadn't. He never did.

When he mounted the horse again and lifted her up in front of him, she assumed they were heading back to the palace.

She didn't speak. Neither did he. His arm settled around her waist, steady and firm.

But the horse turned the wrong way.

It climbed higher. Deeper into the mountains. The path narrowed. Snow thickened along the edges. The wind grew sharper. Pine forests stretched in long dark lines across the white slopes. Sunlight hit the peaks above, turning the snow to silver.

She felt him shift slightly behind her. “This isn't the way back.”

“No.”

Nothing more.

She should have demanded he turn around. She didn't.

The palace disappeared completely. There were just mountains rising in layers, white and pale blue. Frozen streams cut through the valleys below like thin pale lines.

The horse climbed a ridge.

Her breath caught when she saw a cabin.

A wooden cabin stood alone in a wide clearing, surrounded by snow-covered pines and backed by a wall of snow-capped mountain peaks.

The horse stopped in front of it. Bharat dismounted first and reached up to lift her down. Her boots touched the ground.

She turned slowly.

The frozen lake was visible far below, catching the light like pale stone. The valley beyond stretched wide and empty. The sky felt very close.

She hadn't known such a place could even exist.

He tied the horse beside the cabin, checked the knot, and ran a gloved hand briefly along the animal's neck. Then he pushed the cabin door open.

Warmth came out immediately.

She stepped inside.

Firelight moved across wooden walls. A stone fireplace stood ready, wood stacked neatly beside it. The bed in the corner was made with fresh white sheets and thick wool blankets. A small table near the window held covered dishes, which she knew must be food.

There was no dust or signs of neglect. Everything was arranged and waiting.

He had arranged this before he walked into the sitting room this morning with her coat.

Before she had agreed to any of it.

She turned to face him.

“You planned this.”

He didn't deny it. He stepped inside and shut the door. The latch clicked closed. Soft sunlight came through the window and mixed with the fire's glow. The mountains filled the glass like a wall of white.

He stepped closer, and his fingers brushed her throat softly before he began to unbutton her coat in precise moves.

Her pulse quickened.

She knew she should push him off, slap him, demand an explanation. But she didn’t move.

He slid the coat from her shoulders and laid it over a chair.

The fire crackled softly.

She folded her arms even though her breathing had already changed.

“Just so you know, I haven’t forgiven you,” she said.

He stepped forward until the backs of her thighs touched the edge of the bed. He was close enough that she felt the warmth of him.

His hand settled at her waist, and her breath caught.

“I know,” he said.

And then, his hands quickly and efficiently got rid of both their clothes, until they were both naked.

Her heart pounded in anticipation of his touch, even as her anger remained.

He picked her up and put her carefully on the bed before he lay on top of her.

Then, watching her face, he gripped her thighs apart and pushed into her.

She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders.

She hated how her body responded like it had been waiting for his touch, arching towards him. He moved, slowly at first, and then deepening with each thrust until her thighs trembled around his waist.

The firelight flickered gold across his handsome face and body. She hated how stunning he looked with sweat glistening on his broad chest, the muscles on his shoulders flexing with each punishing thrust. She hated how her body pulsed around him, greedy for more.

“You are a controlling bastard,” she hissed, digging her nails harder into his skin until she drew blood. “I still hate you.”

His thrusts didn’t slow, and his golden-brown eyes burned into hers.

“I’m not a bastard,” he said. “My parents were married when I was born.”

The absurdity of the statement punched a startled laugh from her lips.

It quickly turned into a moan when his mouth captured hers in a searing kiss.

The world beyond the cabin walls didn't exist anymore.

If this was manipulation, it was becoming dangerously difficult to tell where the manipulation ended and her own feelings began.

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