Dom punched the blue mug button on the most important machine in his life at the moment. Nothing happened. In another ten seconds, his vision was going to turn as red as his bloodshot eyes after a night spent staring unblinkingly at his ceiling. The coffeepot had too many fucking buttons. What was wrong with a plain old ordinary coffeepot that didn’t need little single-serve cups and eighty billion buttons?
“You need to add water,” Elle said from behind him.
His muscles locked, and he tightened his grip on his coffee cup. That the mug managed not to break in his grasp was a testament to quality Elskovian manufacturing. That voice. He hadn’t stopped hearing both her sweet moans and her subsequent dismissal in his head since she’d disappeared last night.
“Here, let me show Mr. Big Bucks how things work in the real world where people have to make their own coffee.” She slid into the narrow space between him and the wall and removed the clear plastic container from the side of the infernal machine. The smell of fresh soap and flowery shampoo clung to her. “Excuse me.”
Still not looking in her direction, he took a step back and gave her access to the sink. Short of closing his eyes like a dog shoving its head under a pillow to avoid something that was only going to get him into trouble, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop from seeing her as she stepped in front of him and turned on the water before grabbing a mug from the open cabinet. Her long hair spilled down her back in wavy, still damp strands. Unable to help himself, his gaze followed her as she moved back in front of the coffeemaker, dipping to take in the way her jeans hugged her round ass and molded to the curve of her thighs. He gulped and stopped wondering about the Hulk-like sturdiness of his mug and started praying his zipper had been made with the same strength.
“So you put this here, pop in the coffee pod, hit the cup button, and…” The machine, obviously having fallen under her spell, made a hissing noise, and coffee streamed into her mug as she turned to face him. “Voilà, nectar of the gods.”
The brilliance of her smile activated every oh-shit alarm he had. This was not the same woman who’d told him to take a flying leap off the tallest peak last night. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see past the lust and sleep deprivation messing with his vision. “What’s with the happy helper attitude all of the sudden?”
A flush surged above the V of her sweater, and she nibbled her juicy bottom lip—the one that tasted better than cherries warmed by the sun—but she didn’t look away. “I’m shitty at apologies.”
“As royalty, I doubt you’ve had to offer many,” he said, still trying to unravel her change in attitude toward him.
She shrugged and took her now full mug from the evil machine, blowing on it, sending a plume of steam toward him. “I haven’t been a princess in a long time, and stylists make them all the time, especially for shoppers who don’t do casual.”
The reminder of his words to her in the Dylan’s showroom had his lips curling upward before he could stop himself.
“Last night was…” She paused, giving him a fragile smile that looked about to tremble. “A shock. Really, the whole day was, and I reacted, and acted, badly. I’ve made it through the past ten years by keeping secrets. I didn’t think about tomorrow, because for too long I’ve been running from a past I couldn’t tell anyone about. Getting close to anyone was the most dangerous thing I could do. Compartmentalizing everything, including sex, helped me do that, and to make that work I had to have rules, like no beds, no overnights, no connections.”
Fuck. He’d acted like she was only a means to an end and not a person. He’d kidnapped her—for her own good, of course—and now she was making excuses to him for her behavior after he’d gone all horny caveman on her. An uncomfortable and unfamiliar guilt slithered down his spine. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“I do.” And this time her full lips did tremble, just enough to make him want to reach out, but she let out a sigh and stilled the quiver. “I was a bitch last night, and I’m sorry.”
He stiffened, the formality he’d learned growing up on the farthest edge of the royal circle locking his joints into place. “It’s not necessary to apologize for not wanting to have sex with me.”
She took a sip of her coffee, watching him from over the rim. “I never said I didn’t want you.”
Her declaration, more challenge than admission, hung in the coffee-scented air between them as he tested out the angles in his head. Her words had the ring of truth, but there was an underlying…something tensing up his gut. She was stirring up trouble, or she was bat-shit crazy. Either option was as likely as the other right now, and neither was helpful to the cause he’d devoted his life to.
“I’m glad we didn’t have sex.” There was that delicate shrug of hers again. “It would have made the days ahead awkward, since I need you to teach me everything there is to know about Elskov and the plan to get me back on the throne.”
That was not what he’d been expecting. Having to sniff his coffee for poison? Yes. Finding a kitchen knife slid up her sleeve? Absolutely. Her simple agreement less than twelve hours after saying she’d think about it? Nope.
“So you’re in, huh?” he asked, watching her face as if he could glean what she was hiding.
She didn’t even twitch. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You’re here because I stole you away and the Fjende are hot on your trail.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to be queen anymore?” She was all big, innocent eyes and unassuming sweetness as she drank her coffee.
“I don’t trust your sudden change of heart.” Damn, someone really needed to rename him Captain Obvious after his last two statements.
“Fair enough,” she said, her voice steady and neutral.
That was it. No denial. No rambling promises. She played her cards so close he’d need to be inside her head to get a look at them. Too bad for her that wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d gotten to where he was in the world because no one dissected a problem—made by man or the divine—like he did. She leaned against the counter, obviously willing to wait him out, and traced her fingertip across the top of her mug, as gently as if she was touching a lover. His cock thickened. No doubt it was exactly the result she’d hoped for.
She might be playing, but he wasn’t. It didn’t get more real than what was going down in four days. Everything depended on it, and he wasn’t about to let his dick fuck it up.
He held out his mug to her. “Make me a cup?”
She took the mug and worked her magic on the coffeemaker again before turning to face him. “I’ll do it on three conditions.”
Yes. Now this was more like the Elle he’d met yesterday. “And those are?”