Chapter 12 Dominic
CHAPTER TWELVE
DOMINIC
Sasha’s dark eyes held mine with an openness I hadn’t seen before, and the plants around our suite practically glowed with new health.
“We should probably still eat that dessert,” I said, though neither of us moved toward the door.
“Should we?” A smile teased across her mouth. “I’m not particularly hungry anymore.”
“Neither am I.” I reached out, catching her hand. The same electric tingle I’d sensed before sparked between us.
Fated mates. Did I dare tell her?
“Alaina will be devastated if we waste her cake,” I pointed out.
“Alaina will survive.” Sasha’s fingers curled around mine. “I’d rather keep talking. If that’s all right.”
“I’d like that too.” I urged her to stand and led her to the sofa in front of the fireplace, settling beside her close enough that our knees touched. “What would you like to talk about next?”
“Tell me something nobody else knows about you.”
The request caught me off guard. “That’s a dangerous question.”
“Is it?” She tilted her head, studying me. “You already know that my deepest fear is that caring about someone will mess with my judgment. Fair’s fair.”
She had a point. I considered what to share, what vulnerability I could offer that wouldn’t send her running. She said she wouldn’t but… I needed to figure out how to trust it.
“I’m terrified of becoming my father,” I finally said.
Sasha’s expression softened. “Because he was unfaithful?”
“Because he was selfish. He put his own desires above everything else. My mother loved him, and he threw that away for momentary pleasure.” The words tasted bitter. “Sometimes I wonder if that same selfishness lives in me. If I’m capable of the same betrayal.”
“You’re nothing like that.” Her certainty surprised me. “You’ve spent all day solving problems for your court. You personally tested our dinner ingredients to keep me safe. Those aren’t the actions of a selfish man.”
“Maybe I’m just good at performing care.”
“Dominic.” She shifted around to face me fully.
“Do you know what I noticed today? In the greenhouse, you talked to the plants. You didn’t just touch them with magic, but you actually spoke encouragement to them.
Nobody was there to see it but me, and you weren’t aware I was there at first. That’s not performance. ”
The observation made my heart suddenly feel exposed. “You’re very good at seeing who people truly are.”
“Only when they’re worth seeing.” Her smile turned mischievous. “Though I have to admit, watching you charm the kitchen staff was educational. You had them rushing around to help you within minutes.”
“Years of practice.” I grinned. “You weren’t so bad yourself. That moaning over the cakes was inspired.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “I was not moaning.”
“You absolutely were. Three separate times, if I’m counting correctly.” I leaned closer. “It was extremely distracting.”
“I was appreciating good food.”
“You were seducing an entire kitchen staff with your enthusiasm for pastries.”
She laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Because Alaina offered you her recipes, Tomis gave you his best mixing secrets, and Nan looked ready to adopt you as her favorite royal.” I traced my thumb across her knuckles. “You have your own kind of charm, even if you don’t recognize it.”
“That’s just politeness.”
“No, it’s genuine interest in people. You asked real questions, listened to their answers, and made them feel valued. That’s not strategy, Sasha. That’s just you being wonderful.”
She looked down at our joined hands, vulnerability written across her features. “I don’t know how to accept compliments.”
“Then I’ll have to give you lots of practice.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Starting with the fact that you’re the smartest investigator I know.”
Her head tilted. “How many do you actually know?”
“Many.”
Her snort rang out. “Sure.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s methodology.”
“It’s remarkable methodology.” I caught her chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. “And your plant magic is extraordinary. The way you sensed the wrongness in those leaves when nobody else could is a gift.”
“One I’ve barely developed.”
“Maybe because you’ve been too busy keeping everyone else safe to explore what you can do. What if you gave yourself permission to be more than the strategist, to be the witch with an affinity for growing things?”
She sucked in a breath. “What if I’m terrible at it?”
“Then you’ll practice until you’re not. I’ve seen you identify a problem and work to solve it. That skill can be applied to anything. Though I suspect you’re already better than you think. These plants responded to you already.”
She glanced around the sitting room. The vines along the walls had straightened, their leaves unfurling. The potted ferns looked fuller, greener. Even the flowers on our dinner table seemed to glow with new life.
“They’re responding to something,” she said softly.
“I think to us.” I gestured at the blooming evidence. “Magic knows what your mind is still figuring out.”
“And what’s that?”
“That some risks are worth taking.”
We sat for a bit, the fire crackling. Outside, the gardens settled into night, and the magical lights sent a soft glow through the windows.
“I should probably let you rest,” I said, though I made no move to get up. “It’s been a long day.”
“It has.” Sasha didn’t pull her hand from mine. “Though I’m not particularly tired.”
“Neither am I.”
More silence followed while I memorized the way firelight caught her dark hair, the slight upturn of her nose, and how her fingers fit perfectly between mine.
“We should still do something about that dessert,” she finally said. “Even if we’re not eating it. It seems wrong to waste it when Alaina went to so much trouble.”
“We could save it for tomorrow or give it to Savory when she returns.”
“She’d probably get gas again.”
I laughed. “Your companion has questionable judgment when it comes to sweets.”
“She has questionable judgment about many things.” Sasha’s smile turned wry. “But she’s usually right in the end.”
“What was she right about today?”
“That I should stop hiding behind duty and actually feel things.”
I knew what it cost her to say it, how much vulnerability it required.
“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I’m glad you’re feeling things. Even if it’s terrifying.”
“It is terrifying.” She met my gaze. “But also kind of wonderful.”
We stood, the movement bringing us close enough that I could feel her warmth. The walk from the sitting room to our bedroom doors felt charged.
We stopped between the two doors, neither of us willing to end the evening.
“We didn’t actually kiss at our wedding,” I blurted out.
Her eyes widened, her gaze shooting to my mouth. “No, we didn’t.”
“The giggling interrupted before we could.”
She stepped closer. “That seems like an oversight on both our parts.”
“A significant oversight.” I looked down at her, loving how close she was. “I’ve been thinking about it since.”
“Have you?” Her voice had gone soft, almost teasing.
“Extensively.” I cupped her face. “Would you like to remedy that now?”
She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to mine.
The kiss started gentle, almost tentative. A question rather than a demand. But the moment our mouths met, heat ignited between us.
Sasha made a small sound in the back of her throat, and I was lost.
I deepened the kiss, tilting her head for better access. She responded with enthusiasm that thrilled through me, gripping my tunic and pulling me closer.
This wasn’t the polite kiss of a political arrangement. This was heat and desire and genuine wanting.
I backed her against the wall between our doors, pressing close enough to feel every curve of her body against mine. She tasted like wine and something sweet, and I couldn’t get enough.
She trailed her fingers across my abdomen, sending fire through my veins. I groaned into her mouth, lost in need.
We kissed like we’d been holding back for years rather than days. Desperate, hungry, completely consumed by each other.
When I finally pulled back for air, desire shone in her eyes. She ran her tongue across her swollen lips, and my groan ripped out. She looked absolutely beautiful and thoroughly kissed, and I wanted to keep going.
But we were moving fast. I could lose myself completely if we didn’t stop.
“Sasha,” I said, my voice rough. “We should slow down. Maybe.” I forced myself to step back, putting space between us before I did something we might regret. “I don’t want to rush you.”
Understanding flickered through her eyes, followed by what could be disappointment. “You’re being responsible.”
“I’m trying to.” Though every part of me screamed to tug her back into my arms and forget all about responsibility. “You’re important to me. I want to do this right.”
Her smile rose. “That’s very sweet.”
“Sweet wasn’t exactly what I was going for.”
“No?” She stroked my jaw. “What were you going for?”
“Respectful. Honorable. Not like my father.”
“Dominic.” Her expression turned serious. “Wanting someone doesn’t make you him. He chose momentary pleasure over his commitments. That’s completely different from what’s happening here.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” She stood on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “Because you’re thinking about me, about what I need. You’re not just taking what you want.”
The words settled the unease in my chest, though doubts still lingered.
“Goodnight,” she said, backing away, reaching for her door handle.
“Goodnight.”
She slipped into her room and closed the door behind her. I did the same, slumping against the back of the inside of my door. My body thrummed with desire and my mind raced.
Our kiss was extraordinary. Intense and real and nothing like the performative charm I usually used to hide. Sasha had met me with equal passion, showing me a side of herself she kept from everyone else.
I turned, pressing my forehead against the wood, willing my racing heart to slow.
I’d give this time. Give her a chance to get to know me better. And hold onto my heart while I did it in case she eventually did reject me.
It felt good to have a plan, even if it wasn’t much more than watching and waiting.
I stepped away from the door and stripped off my tunic, tossing it into the basket. Magic whisked it away to the laundry, where it would be cleaned and returned to my closet.
I listened at the door a moment, hearing Sasha return from the bathing chamber, then left my room to use the facilities myself.
Standing at the sink, I stared into the mirror above, noting my flushed skin and disheveled hair. My lips pink from our kiss.
I looked like a man who was falling for his new wife.
Which was accurate and terrifying.
I’d kissed people before, of course. Court flirtations that meant very little, brief encounters that satisfied physical needs without emotional risk. I’d experienced nothing like this.
I washed and returned to my room, stripping off my pants and collapsing on the bed. Sleep didn’t come. My mind kept going through the evening. The way she’d kissed me back.
Eventually, I drifted to sleep, my dreams full of dark hair and strategic minds and plants that bloomed in response to our connection.