The dirt, the trees, all of it is so different from home and yet, it is still very much a desert. I stare out and wonder where my sisters are. Where could they be? If they landed in the middle of the desert the way that I did, they are probably dead right about now. There is no way you could live out there for days and weeks, not with as hot as it is.
“You must be hot out here,” a deep voice murmurs behind me.
I don’t bother turning around, I know exactly who it is. He doesn’t say anything else, but I feel his presence as he makes his way toward the empty rocking chair next to mine and sinks down. We don’t speak to one another for a long moment, both choosing to sit in silence and stare straight ahead.
Then, he finally decides to talk and it’s almost as if he should have just kept his fucking mouth shut and pretended I don’t exist.
The asshole.
“You didn’t eat much breakfast.”
My head turns to the side and I glare at his profile. “I didn’t have much dinner either,” I snap.
He slowly turns his head and his eyes widen as his gaze clashes with mine. Narrowing my eyes at him, I nod my head a couple of times. Instead of apologizing or at the least, looking sorry, he does neither. He simply shrugs a shoulder and turns his head to look back at the landscape.
Asshole.
“You need to eat more. This country is not for the weak,” he says, his voice soft.
“I’d love to, but I can’t with this contraption around my waist.”
He snorts. “So, don’t wear it.”
Leaning forward, I smile at him. “I was told this is proper undergarment attire. Am I wrong? I was told you’re a very powerful man, and I need to look respectable and this is how I do that. Am I wrong?” I ask, sugary sweet.
Colt doesn’t turn to me again, instead he continues to stare out at the landscape, pretending as if I’m not looking at him, watching him, and waiting for an answer. He rocks in his chair a couple of times, then slowly turns his head to face me.
“I know many soiled doves who choose not to wear them,” he says slowly, then gives me a smart-ass smile.
Standing slowly, I decide I’m not going to take his shit another minute longer. I may be stuck here with him, but that doesn’t mean that I have to actually be around him.
“You’re a dick, Colt. A hot dick, but still a dick. Go to your whores then if that’s what you want.”
I have to walk past him to get to the front door. Squaring my shoulders, I bravely tilt my head back, my nose in the air and I start to march right past him.
I don’t get far.
Before I realize what’s happening, his hands are around my waist and he’s pulling me down into his lap. My feet go off balance and I cry out as I fall backward, my ass landing on his thigh.
He forces my body to turn slightly, one of his hands wrapping tightly around my waist, the other sliding up my side and my neck, he curls his fingers around the side of my throat while his eyes look up into mine.
“I’ve hurt your feelings,” he rasps.
“No,” I snap. “You haven’t.”
He chuckles. “You’re lyin’, darlin’.”
My body shivers and I hate that it does. His lips twitch into a small smile, no doubt knowing exactly what he does to me. He leans forward, his lips almost touching mine, just a hairsbreadth away. I can almost taste the whiskey that fills my senses and the tobacco. I don’t know why, but it’s extremely sensual and I want more of that scent—of that taste.
“This is a tough world, Birdie. You’ve got to be tougher.”
“Why?” I breathe.
He hums, brushing his lips across mine. “Because you’re in my bed, darlin’. I’m the man in charge of the entire country, people will hate you just because you’re mine.”
“Am I?” I ask. “Yours?”
He doesn’t say anything right away and I have no doubt that he’s thinking of Adelaide and his daughter. Of the life that he had, the girls that were truly his and the fact that I will never be her.
Not ever.
I’m second fiddle, always will be.
Though, I typically am, so I should be used to it by now. I’d just always thought that the man I ended up with, the man that I was destined to be with for the rest of my life, that he would love me, wholly.
It shouldn’t bother me that Colt will never truly want me. That I will always be what he can have, but not what he truly desires. He doesn’t know my true heart and maybe one day I can win him over, but for now, it seems we’re stuck together for this prophecy, whatever that means.
“You are,” he rasps.
“Okay,” I say firmly.
“Okay?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I’m not sure what else to say. I could tell him everything that I’m thinking, but this isn’t a man who enjoys heart-to-heart emotional conversations. I can tell that just in the short time I’ve known him, this man is not a huge communicator. I’m not going to be one of those women that screams and begs for his attention and for his assurances.
“I don’t want a soiled dove, Birdie.”
I jerk back slightly, a bit surprised by his announcement. Blinking, I look into his eyes. “You don’t?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his thumb making small circles against my neck. “I don’t,” he murmurs.
“What do you want?” I breathe.
He grins, leaning forward, his lips touch mine and I let out a small sigh as my body begins to warm. I can feel my blood getting hotter by the second and judging by what happened last night, I know that soon
