suited to be Castaldini’s.”
And he laughed until she almost slumped off her stool.
He wiped his eyes, his laughter subsiding. “Ah, Phoebe, every word you say makes me more undecided. Are you being Castaldini’s top negotiator, so devious you’re saying exactly what will reel me in to the challenge, or are you being confrontational for the sake of it and as unprofessional as you accused me of being?”
“I’d love to lay claim to deviousness. But I can’t.” She shot him a sullen look. “Not with you around.”
“So you’re being confrontational and unprofessional?”
“Just appallingly, undiplomatically truthful. I think you’re unbelievably powerful and proficient. But you’re also driven and fixated on a certain mindset. You could make a magnificent king if you would consider other outlooks, if you would temper your views and methods. If you don’t, you could put an end to the monarchy.”
“And you wonder why only you will do?” He pulled her tohim again and robbed her of inhibitions and self-preservation. All she wanted to do was nuzzle him, inhale him, open her mouth over his pulse, taste his vitality and forget that a time when he wasn’t filling her world had or would ever come. “So that’s your opinion concerning my eligibility for Castaldini’s crown. What of my eligibility to be your lover? Are you going to sacrifice your truthfulness and say I’m not the best man for that role?”
He wanted a verbal confession? Tough. He’d have to settle for her turning into estrogen goo in his arms.
“What I want to know is, is your condition a deal breake—?”
He didn’t let her finish. “Definitely.”
“And you say it isn’t a coercive ultimatum?”
He pulled her almost over his lap, cupped her face in his large hand with such gentleness. Everything inside her surged, tensed. “You need to get one thing straight, Phoebe. I spent my first thirty years with one goal on my mind: becoming the king of Castaldini. Then, suddenly, it was not an option anymore. I no longer believe it’s my destiny. I’m willing to give it a chance, but if you refuse my condition, I’ll be relieved, since that will put an end to your mission. They’ll be forced to go after Durante or Ferruccio and leave me out of it. And without the intrusion of duty, I’ll make you mine again that much sooner.”
“Then you’re not giving the crown serious consideration,” she gasped. “It’s just a pretext for what you really want.”
“I always give any undertaking my absolute best intentions and efforts to produce the best possible results, and that’s what I will give the succession proposition. But you’re right. You are what I really want. You once knew how much I can want. It’s nothing to how much I want you now. I put duty and the world’s expectations ahead of my desires before. But I’ve lived too hard and I know now what really matters to me. Having you, slaking my thirst for you, is my number one priority. It’s what I need. Anything else comes second. Or notat all. Your choice. But whatever you choose, I’m making you mine again. It’s up to you if I do it while giving Castaldini another chance.”
Too much. What he was. What he said. What he did to her. “Resistance is futile, huh?”
He brushed his lips below her ear, along her jaw, to the corner of her mouth before sprinkling her quivering lower lip with what felt like a hundred kisses and a thousand volts. “You want to resist? Because you think you should? Why? To what end?”
Indeed. To continue living her excitingly barren life?
He knew as well as she did that she couldn’t resist him. Didn’t want to. That didn’t mean she shouldn’t make terms of her own. Something to stop her from exchanging inertia for a plummet from a plane. Sans parachute.
She stopped his tormenting lips with hers. Satisfaction splashed through her when he jolted in surprise, then shuddered in response. Then he took over the kiss.
Seconds from
And he laughed until she almost slumped off her stool.
He wiped his eyes, his laughter subsiding. “Ah, Phoebe, every word you say makes me more undecided. Are you being Castaldini’s top negotiator, so devious you’re saying exactly what will reel me in to the challenge, or are you being confrontational for the sake of it and as unprofessional as you accused me of being?”
“I’d love to lay claim to deviousness. But I can’t.” She shot him a sullen look. “Not with you around.”
“So you’re being confrontational and unprofessional?”
“Just appallingly, undiplomatically truthful. I think you’re unbelievably powerful and proficient. But you’re also driven and fixated on a certain mindset. You could make a magnificent king if you would consider other outlooks, if you would temper your views and methods. If you don’t, you could put an end to the monarchy.”
“And you wonder why only you will do?” He pulled her tohim again and robbed her of inhibitions and self-preservation. All she wanted to do was nuzzle him, inhale him, open her mouth over his pulse, taste his vitality and forget that a time when he wasn’t filling her world had or would ever come. “So that’s your opinion concerning my eligibility for Castaldini’s crown. What of my eligibility to be your lover? Are you going to sacrifice your truthfulness and say I’m not the best man for that role?”
He wanted a verbal confession? Tough. He’d have to settle for her turning into estrogen goo in his arms.
“What I want to know is, is your condition a deal breake—?”
He didn’t let her finish. “Definitely.”
“And you say it isn’t a coercive ultimatum?”
He pulled her almost over his lap, cupped her face in his large hand with such gentleness. Everything inside her surged, tensed. “You need to get one thing straight, Phoebe. I spent my first thirty years with one goal on my mind: becoming the king of Castaldini. Then, suddenly, it was not an option anymore. I no longer believe it’s my destiny. I’m willing to give it a chance, but if you refuse my condition, I’ll be relieved, since that will put an end to your mission. They’ll be forced to go after Durante or Ferruccio and leave me out of it. And without the intrusion of duty, I’ll make you mine again that much sooner.”
“Then you’re not giving the crown serious consideration,” she gasped. “It’s just a pretext for what you really want.”
“I always give any undertaking my absolute best intentions and efforts to produce the best possible results, and that’s what I will give the succession proposition. But you’re right. You are what I really want. You once knew how much I can want. It’s nothing to how much I want you now. I put duty and the world’s expectations ahead of my desires before. But I’ve lived too hard and I know now what really matters to me. Having you, slaking my thirst for you, is my number one priority. It’s what I need. Anything else comes second. Or notat all. Your choice. But whatever you choose, I’m making you mine again. It’s up to you if I do it while giving Castaldini another chance.”
Too much. What he was. What he said. What he did to her. “Resistance is futile, huh?”
He brushed his lips below her ear, along her jaw, to the corner of her mouth before sprinkling her quivering lower lip with what felt like a hundred kisses and a thousand volts. “You want to resist? Because you think you should? Why? To what end?”
Indeed. To continue living her excitingly barren life?
He knew as well as she did that she couldn’t resist him. Didn’t want to. That didn’t mean she shouldn’t make terms of her own. Something to stop her from exchanging inertia for a plummet from a plane. Sans parachute.
She stopped his tormenting lips with hers. Satisfaction splashed through her when he jolted in surprise, then shuddered in response. Then he took over the kiss.
Seconds from
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