1 #4
“Not surprising,” Mack said with a nod. “You’re very much his type.”
“This doesn’t make sense. Of course I can see everything I need to know about him, so me thinking of him in that way is understandable, but…he can’t see me the same way. How does he know we’re a good match?”
Mack’s head tilted a little as if I’d just asked a silly question. “Jon. Do you know that the two of you are a good match? You can see that?”
“I can see our compatibility. I give it amazing odds we’d be great together.”
“He doesn’t need to see to believe it,” Mack pointed out. “He knows you’ve read the compatibility, and it must be good, because you’re not turning him down. Remember, this man fully believes your talent is a divine gift, so whatever you say to him, he’s going to believe.”
“In other words, because I know we’ll be a good match, he’s already sold? Without needing to test the waters or anything?”
“Correct.” Mack lifted a finger as he added, “Speaking as someone who has walked this path, I must say choosing Donovan would be an excellent choice. I know him very well, and he’s fully as protective as his brother, and just a sweetheart all around.
You’ll be well loved and protected by choosing him as your anchor. ”
Awe slid through me, warm as sunshine. The idea of someone trusting in me, in my abilities that much, accepting all of me instead of being afraid of me was breathtaking.
It was all I’d ever wanted and thought I’d never have.
And for that trust to come in the package of a man like Prince Donovan? It’d be worth battling my insecurities.
Changing the topic, I said, “Share the snack with me. Tell me your story.”
“I’d be happy to. I’m going to put my feet in the pool too. I’m hot.”
“Feel free.”
Mack poured us both chilled wine, and we split the food.
I listened intently as he spoke, weaving the story of how he came to be here.
How life had been for the past two years and how he didn’t regret choosing Brandon, not for a second.
How his life was downright pampered compared to before.
He painted such a beautiful picture, I yearned to follow the path he had blazed.
Eventually, the water became too much, and the urge for a nap came back. Mack coaxed me out, then pushed me toward the bed, saying I’d need sleep before dinner. Apparently dinners were three-hour affairs here, at least the formal kind.
I felt a little odd about climbing into Prince Donovan’s bed, but Mack assured me it was fine, that Prince Donovan had led me here because he wanted me to feel safe and to relax.
I eventually settled in the middle of the bed, the gauzy curtains gathered around me to keep any flies off, and almost didn’t bother with a sheet.
I’d only put on the loincloth after getting out of the pool, too tired to think of completely dressing.
On second thought, I pulled the sheet up to my waist and snuggled into a pillow.
My eyes were heavy as they fluttered closed, and I think I was asleep before I fully settled.
Light fingertips carding through my hair woke me up in a gradual way. The touch was so pleasant, I turned into it, humming a little. It had been years since anyone had touched me so gently.
“Jon?” Prince Donovan spoke softly, his tone a caress. “Can you wake up long enough to eat?”
I forced my eyes open to blink sleepily up at him. He leaned over me with a look of concern, brows drawn together a little. The light had faded in the room, and only candlelight gave any illumination. I felt like I’d slept much longer than the hour I’d intended.
“Jon?”
I blinked at him and found myself smiling. “You’re really lovely. Even though you hurt my eyes.”
“Once you’re anchored to me, I won’t hurt your eyes anymore,” he promised with a soft laugh. “Jon, you’re clearly not fully awake. Which would you rather have, food or sleep?”
“Sex.”
Prince Donovan blinked, doing a double take. “You want sex?”
“Mm. Sex with you will be fantastic.” I was too tired to start ripping clothes off, though. Pity.
“That something else you can see?”
“Mm-hmm. You’re very generous.”
“Gods above,” Prince Donovan murmured, amused all over again, “your eyes really are something else. I think you’re too sleepy for sex, though.”
More’s the pity. I could feel myself sliding back into the world of dreams already.
Prince Donovan leaned in and brushed a kiss against my forehead. I hummed and leaned into it.
“Sleep,” Prince Donovan crooned to me. “Sleep and dream and worry not.”
It was like a spell he’d put over me, my eyes falling shut, my consciousness spinning as sleep sucked me back under. I managed to ask one question that plagued me even as sleep sang its siren’s call.
“You put me in your room to claim me, didn’t you?”
“Guilty,” he admitted, no apology in his tone. “Because I desperately want you to be mine.”
I’d just known that was the case. I wasn’t mad about it.
“Don’t start a war over me,” I mumbled—my last parting shot before sleep sucked me under.
“On that, my love, I can make no promises.”