Rebecca Winters

The Royal Collection


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of moments. To weave a life together made of them. Of happiness and pleasure and comfort. Instead of purpose and loneliness.

       But what will your people do if you lose your purpose? If you slide into corruption?

      Just for a moment, he let himself imagine falling asleep with her. Making her his world. And a bright, intense burst of joy pierced the darkness inside him. A pure shaft of happiness like he’d never known before.

      A happiness that scared him more than any pain he had yet endured.

      It brought back memories. Memories long ago blocked out. His mother smiling. His father placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. Those words he could never hear.

      Right then, he wanted to run. Right then, he wanted to get away. She made him remember. And that was even deadlier than forgetting.

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      “I LOVE YOU.”

      Olivia didn’t mean to speak the words, but the moment they left her mouth she surrendered. Not just to the feeling, which she had come to terms with yesterday, but to the fact that she had just confessed it. She had said them many times over the course of her life. Her parents, to her sister. To her first husband. But never in all of her life had the response mattered so much. Never in her life had the words cost so much to speak.

      Always, they had been the right things to say. A gift with nothing behind them.

      But these three words spoken to him were like three strips taken from her hide. Essential parts of herself given to him because they were necessary. Because he was necessary. It made her vulnerable, she knew. It exposed every bit of the neediness she had been afraid of exposing all of her life. But she didn’t care, not now. Because finally, finally she wanted something that was worth the cost. She wanted someone who was worth the cost.

      Tarek was the strongest man she had ever known. If he could face down the pain, the fear that he had endured, the loss, then certainly she could give something of herself to him. Had anyone ever given themselves to him? She would.

      She realized now that she had stopped giving of herself a long time ago. She was insulated, surrounded by people who kept walls erected between them. As she did, too. But she couldn’t do that here. She couldn’t do that now. Not with him.

      She couldn’t protect herself and love him. She would have to risk. Have to step out.

      She had sworn she would never break. But for him she would have to. For him, she would break open and pour herself out. Show him her heart, her neediness, her everything.

      For this man who saw her. This man who looked at her as if she was singular. Precious.

      For this man, she would.

      She felt Tarek stiffened beneath her hands. “Olivia, no.”

      “Yes.” She knew already this would end badly.

      That it would hurt like hell. But she was committed to it. She was so tired. She wanted to grab a sledgehammer and physically break something down to symbolize what she wanted to happen inside her. She didn’t want protection or comfort. She didn’t want safety. She wanted raw heat, passion. But the only way to get that was to walk through the fire. Better to burn alive than freeze to death.

      “I cannot love,” he said, his voice like stone.

      “You can. There are a lot of things you didn’t think you could do. I know you didn’t think that you could make love to me...”

      “Is that it? You are taking that as a sign of love? A sign of affection?” He moved away from her, standing by the edge of the bed, pacing like a caged animal. “I want nothing to do with love,” he said, his tone fierce. “And even if I did, I lack the capacity.”

      She shook her head, feeling numb. “No. I don’t believe that.”

      “Because of this?” He indicated the bed. “Any beast can rut. That does not indicate the ability to love.”

      “So now you’re going to reduce this? Now you’re going to make it nothing more than animals mating?”

      “This was all about producing in heir, was it not?”

      “Was it?” she asked, pain making her lash out. “If so, I hate to be the one to tell you, using your mouth on me, no matter how much fun it might be, will never produce an heir.” Talking about a baby like this, a child, their child was suddenly a new, sharp pain. A sliver shoved beneath her skin, adding to the rest.

      An heir was no longer a detached title, a strange, hazy goal. But a baby. Part her. Part Tarek.

      A dream she hadn’t realized she’d wanted so badly. One that was sifting through her fingers like sand with each angry word, each passing second.

      His dark brows locked together. “I will not deny I derived enjoyment from it. But that is not an indication of finer feelings.”

      “What are you afraid of? What are you hiding from?”

      “Hiding seems to be your game, my queen, not mine.”

      His words hit her with the full force of a slap. Because they were true. She was an expert at hiding. She preferred to hide among people, smiling, feigning connection, because it was a wonderful way to disguise the yawning ache of loneliness inside her. To pretend it was being satisfied. But she had admitted it to herself, so his words held no power. “Says the man who spent years hunkered down in this empty shell of a building?”

      “I cannot keep my eyes on you and on my country. I have to remain focused.”

      “Life isn’t that simple, Tarek.”

      “It got me this far.”

      “But there’s more. Don’t you want more? I want more. I’m tired of just getting by. I was protecting myself for so long. Accepting the blandest drop of human emotion because it meant I wouldn’t have to give anything back. It meant I wouldn’t have to risk anything. But when you don’t risk anything, you get no reward. I ran all the way to Tahar from Alansund to avoid being alone. To avoid having to deal with the emptiness inside myself. I was willing to marry a stranger in order to keep from dealing with the fact that I just... My parents could never show that they loved me as much as they love Emily. And rather than admitting I needed it, that I missed anything I just kind of closed in on myself, made myself strong. I asked for more and found they were unwilling to give it, and so I stopped. I was married to a man I could barely go beyond small talk with because I would rather have a shell than lose the pretense we had. But it’s not enough. I’m not going to let you get away with that. I’m going to ask for more than you think you can give. I’m going to demand it. If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t care if you ever said that you loved me. If this were me two years ago, I would never demand it. But this isn’t me two years ago. This is me now. This is me, being the woman that you helped me discover I am. So now you have to deal with it.”

      “And I am the stranger that you chose to marry. I am not now a man you can fashion into the image you would like to see. I am all you see before you. I am what I was made to be.”

      She got out of the bed, took a step toward him, bracketed his face with her hands. “Be more. You can be more than a goal. More than an ideal. Just because your brother was twisted, and evil, and completely beholden to all of his vices doesn’t mean you have to be.”

      “You say that, and yet you know nothing of what I have seen. He killed my parents. Our parents. Our blood. He stopped just short of killing me because he thought I might be of some use, or perhaps because in his twisted mind he had power so he didn’t need to destroy me completely. I will never know for certain. He said that he loved me. As he tortured me, he said that he loved me. That is love to me. Love is nothing more than pain.”

      She closed the distance between them, kissing him hard, not pausing to think her actions through. When she parted