Page 64 of King of Ashes
She bites her lip and shrugs. “I don’t like to be in the shadow of anyone else.”
“You outshine everyone and everything else.”
I know what she wants to ask me next, and I breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn’t. Neither of us is ready for the answer.
Her finger dances on the rim of the glass. “Are you trying to charm me, husband?”
Fuck, it does things to me when she calls me that. I think it’s her subconscious claiming me. Reminding me who I belong to when I have only ever been hers.
“Is it working?”
“Is it?”
I lean over the table, smirking. “Oh, wife, when it’s payback time, I’m going to make you lose your mind.”
Her mouth parts, a gasp rolling out of those luscious lips. Eyes locked, I don’t know which of us imagines the scene unfolding more. I am so lost in her that I don’t even notice the server appear.
Clearing his throat, he breaks the spell. Zara startles, shifting in her seat as if caught doing something wrong.
I cast an angry look his way, and he sets the second course in front of us before rushing off.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, but the longer she spends trapped in her head, the worse it will be for me. “You feel thisbetween us too. It’s been clear from the start. The chemistry. The connection.”
She chews slowly, giving me the impression she’s ruminating on her answer, and my eyes follow the delicate line of her neck.
“I won’t deny that you’ve intrigued me. But don’t you think it’s strange how we’ve been grieving for years, holding on to our loved ones, yet we forget them more with each passing day?”
“Living means moving forward. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I didn’t peg you as a romantic guy.”
“Live with me, Zara. I promise you the world and swear my future to you. But what I can give you with absolute certainty is the present.”
“It sounds simple, doesn’t it? Yet it’s the hardest thing you could ask of me.” She offers me a meek smile and returns to her plate.
By the time dessert is served, she has finished her third glass.
“This is so good,” she says, licking her lips.
Instant lust coils through me, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could be the one tasting her instead.
“There’s more at home,” I say, the echo of a promise ringing between us.
“You have good taste.”
“Of course.”
“So cocky,” she says, her pupils dilating.
She’s giving me that come-hither look, and I would love nothing more than to indulge it. My body has no morals and doesn’t care, but I do. She’s wanting me, all right, and I am dying to ease both our needs, but I only have one chance to do this right.
“I miss you,” she rasps, the words hitting me with the force of a confession.
As humiliating as it might sound, losing control right here is a valid possibility.
“You’re tipsy. It tells me you’re nervous. It tells me that while you want to let go, you need alcohol for that. This is not how this is going to work.”
Her lips pull into a cute pout. “I am fully capable of deciding.”
