‘No. I only run away from abuse, and I know you won’t hurt me more now. I made a commitment to you and I won’t renege on our contract. But we go back to business.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I won’t sleep with you any more.’
‘No more kissing? No more touching? You really think that’s possible?’
He looked so disbelieving it was insulting.
‘It’s the only way I will stay for the duration until our divorce.’
‘You’ll need to lock the door, Hester. But not from me.’
‘I know I will. But I’ll lock the door and I’ll throw away the key.’
‘If it’s going to be that much of a challenge, then why fight it? Why not just accept that we’re good together, Hester? There’s no real reason why that can’t last.’
But it wasn’t enough for her. She’d told him how she really felt and he still didn’t understand.
‘You’re really not used to not getting your own way, are you?’ She gaped at him. ‘Listen to me, Alek. I want more. And I’m worth more. And I will never settle for the little you’re offering.’
She fled from the room, slamming the door behind her before she stared at him too long and surrendered everything regardless.
Almost all her life she’d not had it all. She’d not felt secure and cared for. She’d not felt safe enough to care for others too. He’d opened her up. She’d allowed herself to fall for someone. To love.
But she wanted to be loved in return. Loved the way other people were. She knew she’d shut down and hidden away, but she’d not realised how entrenched her defensiveness had become. She’d forgotten that she actually had things to offer people. Alek had reminded her. And made her believe she was beautiful. She could open up and share in joy and pleasure. She could engage with people beyond a quick moment in which to help someone in some superficial way. He’d made her feel warmth again—from companionship and closeness and, above all, humour. He’d changed her.
But while she’d changed him—it wasn’t in the same way. The adjustment to his offer wasn’t enough. And it hurt more than anything.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HESTER STARED AT her reflection, barely recognising the sleek, stylish woman in the mirror as herself. This coronation was more important than their wedding. It was the reason for the wedding—so Alek could fulfil the duty conferred on him from birth.
This was what he’d wanted and truthfully it was all he’d wanted. Their affair had been a mere cherry on his already massive cake. No doubt he’d have plenty more cherries in the future.
He might’ve thought they’d make a good team but it would never last. Because what he’d offered wouldn’t be enough for her. She’d be hurt more and more and more knowing that she loved him in a way he would never return. When she’d had so little for so long, she couldn’t do that to herself.
The teardrop diamond necklace that had been sent to her room earlier hung like an icy noose around her neck, reminding her of the heartbreak she faced. A year was an interminable amount of time. She wished he’d see that there was no need for them to wait that long. But she’d promised him she’d stay. In public, she’d hold her head high and play her part. Thankfully the palace was large enough for her to avoid him at all other times. She would run away to her apartment and survive. Eventually she’d return to the States—or maybe somewhere else entirely. Then she’d start again. She just had to get through this coronation today.
All the years of hiding her emotions were going to stand her in good stead. It was the only way she was going to get through this and do her job. Because that was her one thing—she was damn good at her job.
* * *
It was worse than if she’d run away. She was still present, still doing everything he’d initially asked, but she’d become like a will-o’-the-wisp around the palace. He heard her footsteps but never spoke to her. Caught her scent but never saw her. She was incredibly skilled at making herself invisible. Because she knew what she had to do to survive—and for her that meant not seeing him.
That hurt.
And how badly he wanted to see her hurt too. When he was with her, he felt good. She’d slipped under his skin and exposed old wounds to sunlight. It had hurt, tearing off those crusted wrappers. But the salve was Hester herself.
He’d not given anyone real meaning in his life in a long time because it hadn’t been a risk he’d been prepared to take. He hadn’t even realised how hurt he’d been. He’d not seen the truth. He’d accused her of being prickly and defensive when he was the one holding back. He’d thought he was whole and happy. But he’d been a heartless coward.
But she’d asked him what his dreams were. No one had asked him that, ever, he didn’t think. And he hadn’t thought he had any. Until now. She’d ignited new dreams, enabling him to imagine beyond merely passing personal pleasure. She’d made him realise the emptiness in his life that he’d have denied he felt only a few short weeks ago.
She’d wakened within him the possibility of a future that held more than duty. The prospect of private happiness—of laughter and fulfilment for himself. He wanted—ached—to inspire that in her. He wanted to be the one she dreamed about in the way he dreamed about her. He actually wanted this marriage—with her. And children—with her. He wanted to be the father he’d not had—one who was there. One who listened.
She made him want everything he’d deluded himself into believing he dreaded—one woman. Children. Love.
He’d been so wrong about her. He’d thought her shy—she wasn’t shy; biddable—where she was intractable, and dutiful—when she could be so defiant it made his blood sing. He’d been unable to admit how much she’d come to
