Her eyes burned. Hot. Scalding. She tried to blink but couldn’t, frozen, shattered, stuck.
Stuck in a part she’d created, stuck in a lie she’d perpetuated.
If Zale found out the truth, he’d hate her. He’d never forgive her.
And did she blame him? She’d done everything he despised most—tricked, manipulated and played him.
Zale’s hand touched her cheek, catching a tear as it fell. “Emmeline, why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
He gently touched the tip of his finger with the tear to her lips. “Trust me. You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”
Trust me … you can tell me anything …
Her chest squeezed so tight her heart felt as if it would burst. “Everything’s good,” she said, fighting to keep her voice from breaking.
“Then why the tears?”
“Happy,” she choked out, gulping air as fresh hot tears welled. “Just happy to be with you.”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut as Zale settled onto his side and drew her close, exhaling in a sigh of utter satisfaction.
He sounded relaxed, sated, happy, while she writhed inwardly, tormented by self-loathing.
She was bad, bad, bad … so bad. What had she done? How could she have done it?
Horrified and ashamed that she’d sleep with Emmeline’s fiancé, Hannah pressed the soft sheets to her chest, regret filling her, making her conscience hurt and heart sting.
She should have told him the truth yesterday. Should have confessed her part in the charade, accepted the consequences and then gone home.
Or at the very least, she should have just gone home.
Instead she’d stayed, allowing herself to be seduced by her senses, and this impossible fantasy. As if she could be a princess. As if her life was a fairy tale.
Worse, she hadn’t stayed for Emmeline. She’d stayed for herself. Stayed for the most selfish of reasons—she’d wanted Zale. And so she’d taken what wasn’t hers.
And now the reality of her foolishness, and selfishness, was hitting her like a sledgehammer.
Zale stroked her hip, a slow, lazy caress. “We didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and yet we both have busy days.” “Do we?”
“I’ve meetings this morning, and you need to finish sitting for your portrait. Once done with that, I’ll have Krek give you a tour of our private wing and then hopefully we can meet for lunch.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t need entertaining,” she said, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand as it moved leisurely up and down her body making her feel cherished and beautiful. “I’ve got plenty to do.”
“I’m sure you do, but you said that you wanted to learn everything you could about me so I’ve arranged for Krek to take you on a tour.”
“I won’t be adding to his workload, will I?”
“No. Krek lives for this sort of thing,” he answered, kissing her cheek before pulling away. He left the bed and crossed to the window, to pull back the heavy drapes, allowing the morning light to flood the room.
Hannah blinked at the light, and rubbed her eyes before pushing a tumble of heavy hair back from her face.
Zale was still standing at the window, gazing out over the walled city to the sea. He was naked and completely comfortable with it. But of course he would be. He had that sinfully sexy body—big shoulders, rock hard stomach, a small, firm butt and those long, lean muscular legs.
He was so perfect. She was not. “Can I have my coat please?” she asked, sitting up and still holding the sheet to her breasts.
“I can’t believe you’re shy,” he said, collecting her nightgown and coat and carrying it to her. “I’ve heard you sunbathe topless on friends’ yachts.”
Hannah wrinkled her nose, unable to imagine going topless in public.
But then, her father had been very strict when Hannah was growing up. He’d frequently reminded her that her mother had been a lady and Hannah would be a lady, too. Which meant no short shorts or revealing tops. She hadn’t been allowed to date until she was sixteen and even then it had to be on a group date. Anyone she wanted to date had to come to the ranch and be grilled for an hour by her dad, so mostly, no boys in Bandera wanted to.
“It’s chilly,” she said, taking the coat from him and sliding one arm into a sleeve, and then the other before knotting the sash tightly about her waist.
Head held high, Hannah rose from the bed, prepared to dash out of the bedroom, but Zale caught her by the wrist as she passed, pulling her toward him.
“You keep surprising me,” he said hoarsely, holding her against him. The coat provided little protection. She could feel the entire length of him, from his thick chest to his warm torso and firm, narrow hips.
She sucked in a breath, heat surging to her cheeks as his body hardened against her. “Is that good or bad?”
The expression in his eyes was possessive. “Both.” He drew his thumb across her mouth, his gaze fixed to her soft lips as they parted in a silent gasp.
“How can it be both good and bad?” she whispered, licking her dry lips.
“You’re more than I expected.” He hesitated. “Which is good.”
“So what is bad?”
He slowly dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, tugging it down, making her feel alarmingly exposed. “How much I want you. Still.”
His words and touch were unbearably erotic. She shuddered in response, her defenses caving. He made her feel so carnal. Made her want all the things that were forbidden.
Like him.
“I’ve just had you, three times in the past nine hours. I shouldn’t need you again,” he added, his voice deepening, rougher than usual, even as his shaft rose against her belly, an insistent nudge that made her feel weak. Every time he touched her, she melted. Just one touch and she became his.
His, she repeated silently, dazed by the waves of pleasure surging through her one after the other. He made her feel drunk but it was on passion and emotion.
She’d never felt anything close to this with anyone, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel this way about anyone else, either.
“And that’s bad?” she asked unsteadily.
He tugged the coat back from her shoulder, exposing one full pale breast.
“Yes.” He cupped her breast and she exhaled at the warmth of his hand against her cool skin. He stroked the soft underside, a light teasing caress that made her nerve endings dance and her lower back tingle.
“But you don’t really need me,” she whispered, trying her best to stay coherent—rational, knowing she needed to focus. But thinking was virtually impossible when she was so overwhelmed by sensation. “You’ve had plenty—”
“But apparently not plenty enough,” he contradicted, as his erection grew bigger, thicker.
She rubbed against him, feeling the broad rounded tip, remembering how amazing it had felt last night as he entered her, slowly, deeply.
The memory made her shudder and he groaned as she rubbed against him.
With a muttered oath he caught her hips in his hands, pressed her even more firmly to him, his breathing ragged. “I don’t want to want you this much.”
“I don’t