Why did she feel this way—so completely infatuated, so enamored, so connected to him in every way possible? Was it because he’d taken her virginity? Was she deluding herself, like she had with Lars, into imagining Xerxes as the fulfillment of some romantic dream?
“Don’t think I’m a good person,” he’d told her grimly. She didn’t want to believe him. How could she when every inch of her body down to blood and bone insisted differently? And Xerxes had kept every promise he’d made to her. Even last night, when she’d practically thrown herself at him, he’d actually tried to let her go, to warn her off. She was the one who’d called him on his promise, demanding that he kiss her. Giving him her virginity had been entirely her choice.
She didn’t regret it. She couldn’t.
And yet…
She’d told herself she could just have casual sex—that she could experience sensual pleasure without falling in love. Now, she realized how foolish she had truly been to think she could ever keep her heart separate from her body. She did not have the walls of armor that men had. That Xerxes had.
“No regrets?” he said quietly beside her, as if he’d read her mind.
She turned to him with an unsteady smile. “None,” she lied, her heart in her throat. “In fact, I was just thinking I should have jumped into bed with some man a long time ago.”
He growled. “I am glad you did not.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her. His embrace was tender, making her heart yearn and twist and break beneath the pleasure.
He pulled back, his dark brows lowered in concern as he searched her gaze. “What’s wrong, Rose?” he said quietly. “Are you thinking of Växborg?”
“No.”
“You still love him.”
“No.” She shook her head fiercely. “I don’t think I ever did.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes shining. “I am glad.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she was utterly lost. Her memory of Lars seemed like a dewdrop compared to the ocean of longing and desire she felt for Xerxes now.
But she couldn’t fall in love with Xerxes after he’d specifically warned her not to! She couldn’t be that stupid—that gullible and naive!
Abruptly, she sat up in bed.
“Rose?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled back at him, but it took an effort. She blinked fast to hide threatening tears. “I’m great. We had a fun night together. It’s no big deal.”
“It was your first time,” he said softly, putting his hands below his head on the pillow. He smiled, his eyes caressing her. “Of course it’s a big deal.”
“Well, you needn’t worry.” She looked away. “I’m not going to pester you for an engagement ring.”
“That’s good,” he said with a snort. “We both know I am not the sort of man for you to bring home to your parents. I’m not exactly husband-and-father material.”
“Right.”
“I mean it.” He sat up beside her, his eyes suddenly serious. “You think Växborg is a selfish bastard? I am worse.”
She looked away. “So you say.”
“I’m no good to any woman,” he insisted. “Least of all a woman like you. Rose…” Reaching out, he took her hands in his larger ones. “You deserve the fairy tale. And we both know I am no white knight.”
She pulled her hands away.
“Honestly, you don’t need to explain.” Her voice cracked. “I’m fine. In a few days, you can trade me and I’ll go back home to California and find a man I can truly love. Someone who’s honorable, kind and strong. A man I can love for the rest of my life.”
Silence fell.
“And if he never comes?” Xerxes said quietly.