The thought of heading back to Roston on my own seems like the entirely wrong thing to do.
One week can’t hurt, can it? It doesn’t mean I have to tell her anything about the business. After all, she’s the Queen, and who am I to refuse her?
17
Penelope
I’ve been trying my best to be a good queen, to keep my thoughts away from Asher and focus on the people. There’s been a knot in my stomach since we were in the kitchen together in Roston. I haven’t been able to eat right, and my staff is starting to notice. Everything feels…off. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Asher came into my life and shook everything up like a snow globe.
It doesn’t help that every time I look at a newspaper or turn on the television, he’s there.
Usually, he’s saying complimentary things about me and my government. I can’t help but feel like there’s a hidden meaning. When he says I serve Nord with duty and honor, I can’t help but remember the way it felt to be in his arms. Like he’s reminding me in every interview that we shared something secret—something special.
Over the past three weeks, tensions in Nord have dissolved, and the threat of unemployment is lessening. Approval ratings are on the rise, and people crying for the abolition of the monarchy are quieting down. Even Jacinthe Crawley.
I have Asher to thank for that. Without his support in every interview and article, I doubt I would’ve gotten the credit for this project.
His fingers make soft circles over the skin on my back. We stand in his hotel suite, arms locked around each other. My head spins. That slow, tender movement of his hand—it…it does something to me. To my heart. Makes it stutter and skip inside my chest, as if my body has forgotten how to pump blood properly.
“You’ve been very kind to me in the media,” I say softly, lifting my gaze up to his.
“I’ve told the truth. Without you, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I appreciate it.” I clear my throat, taking a deep breath. “I often feel like I’m on my own, always being criticized. It’s nice to have someone in my corner.”
Asher’s eyes soften, his hand stilling for a moment. I think I see a hint of conflict in his eyes, but it passes so quickly I almost doubt whether it was there at all.
I’ve seen so little of him over the past weeks—months, even. It’s been over two months since Prince Gabriel’s wedding, but I feel like my whole world has shifted. I think about him all the time. I know I said I wanted to keep things professional, and being here is in direct conflict with that. I know these things…but I just can’t quite bring myself to care.
Call me weak. Call me a hypocrite. Call me whatever you want—but I’m sick of resisting. I want to spend time with him. As the days have passed without him, I feel almost nauseous. Ever since Roston, it’s happened in waves, like I can’t quite shake the feeling that something has changed within me. Something is different.
It’s emotional or mental—manifesting itself physically—but there’s been a seismic shift inside me. All because of Asher.
“I have a confession, Pen.” Asher’s eyes are dark. He looks in my eyes, then drops his gaze to my lips.
A slow tendril of heat curls through my stomach, making me want to clench my thighs together. Every night, I’ve thought of how it felt to have him inside me. Three weeks I’ve pleasured myself to the memory of his touch. I’ve replayed our night in Roston over and over in my mind. Being here…it makes my head spin. Pushing past the lump in my throat, I speak. “What’s that?”
I don’t want him to say we can’t do this. I don’t want him to repeat the words I said to him and tell me we can’t be close. I’ve done that. I’ve tried to be professional. I’ve kept my distance.
I can’t do it anymore.
Asher leans down, touching his forehead to mine. “I have to admit…” His throat clenches as he gulps, and a thin thread of fear travels through my heart. There’s something wrong. His eyes…they’re serious. He’s going to confess something to me, and I’m not going to like it. My heart starts to hammer, and hot embarrassment creeps up my neck. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s going to reject me. He’s going to tell me something awful.
Asher takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Deep lines bracket his mouth, then his shoulders drop. He opens his eyes, and the conflict is gone. A thin, watery smile appears on his lips. “I have to admit, I really hate fishing.”
Sweet, sweet relief. There’s nothing wrong between us. He’s not rejecting me. Am I really so weak that my mind went straight there?
Laughter bubbles through me, silenced when Asher kisses me. His lips are soft, yet demanding, and I melt into his kiss. When his tongue swipes across my lower lip and dives into my mouth, I feel every muscle in my body relax into his touch.
How could I think to resist this? How could I stay away from him when I know how it feels to be in his arms?
Heat clenches deep inside me, fire sparking between my legs. I…want this. More. I want more of him, and I don’t want to keep things professional. I don’t want to be the Queen. Not now. Not with him.
Pulling away, Asher grins down at me. Low, warm light from a nearby lamp hugs his face, making me want to touch his broad cheekbones and commit every feature to memory. A tremor passes through my chest, and it feels a lot like…like an emotion I’m too scared to name.
He brushes his lips to mine again, softly, then lets out a low groan. “I missed you, Pen. I don’t want to keep things professional between us.”
As my heart speeds up, I close my eyes and melt into his touch. “I missed you too,” I admit in a low whisper. It feels like a naughty confession. Like a secret that should be said in a hushed voice.
Who am I to miss a man? Why would I deserve to have someone like Asher—all muscle and manliness and sex? Didn’t I already lose my chance at love? Hasn’t my body betrayed me time and time again, and I’ve been resigned to a life of loneliness? Why would that change now?
“Let’s forget about the Roston mines,” he growls. “Just for this week. Show me the Arctic Ocean and the Summer Palace. Let me see the real you, Pen.”
A shiver courses through my body. This is almost forbidden. Not because of the mining contract or the sale of the land near Roston. Not because of the press, or what people would say if they found out about this…relationship. Is this a relationship?
It feels forbidden because I haven’t allowed myself to soften for anyone. Even with my brothers, I’ve maintained my frosty exterior. I’ve hidden myself away beneath a layer of ice, never letting any vulnerabilities show.
Now, Asher wants me. All of me. He wants to see what lies beneath…and I want to show him.
His hand skates up my spine, curling around the back of my neck. His other arm sweeps around my lower back, so I’m completely encased in his embrace. I inhale Asher’s scent, feeling more at home here than I do in my own castle. I feel more like myself than I do when I’m alone.
That can’t be wrong…Can it?
Over the past three weeks, I haven’t spoken to Asher at all, but he’s shown me what it means to feel supported by someone. Whenever he’s been challenged in the media about me or my government, he’s responded with grace and tact. Singlehandedly, he’s made the growing unrest in Nord quiet down and improved my reputation.
I owe him so much, but he’s asking for nothing. For the first time in years, I feel like I don’t have to face this life on my own.
We leave for the Summer Palace in the morning, taking the royal jet up to a private airstrip, then driving over to the newly renovated palace sitting on the edge of the Arctic Circle. Last summer, construction was completed on the castle. The design was created by none other than Wolfe’s new wife.
This is the first time since the opening ceremony that I’ve been to the Summer Palace. The first time since the birth of Wolfe’s child that I’ve made a visit to my brother and his bride. I’ve dreaded seeing their happiness. My heart has clenched at the thought of seeing th
eir baby. The newspapers call him the heir to the throne—something that in my heart of hearts, I know is true. I know when I die, there won’t be a child of my own to pass my title to. Still, it feels like a slap in the face.
I haven’t had the guts to visit them because of my own ego, my own failures, my own malfunctioning body.
Now, though, as the royal vehicle drives through the intricate wrought iron gates and onto the meadow of wildflowers leading to the Summer Palace, a smile drifts over my lips. Asher’s hand is intertwined in mine, and I find myself leaning my head against his shoulder.
We haven’t said much to each other this morning. There’s a calm sort of energy between us. An excitement tinged with a feeling that this is right. This is where we’re supposed to be.
When we drive up to the palace, Asher lets out a low whistle. “This is nicer than my place in Roston. I can tell you that without even stepping a foot inside.” He cranes his neck to look up at the two tall turrets framing the building, the whole place gleaming with the newness of the renovation.
I smile, squeezing his hand. A thought pops into my head uninvited—this place could be his, if he wanted it. All of it. All of Nord. I’d give him the kingdom if he’d accept it—accept me. Gulping the thought down, I pull away from him as the footman opens my door. Whatever is happening between Asher and me, it’s not that serious. It’s…it’s a break. A break from responsibility, not something everlasting. I need to remember that.
My brother Wolfe is waiting for us at the top of the steps. Somehow, he looks even wilder and more regal than he did before. His new bride is beside him, smiling down at me from the top of the stairs. She drops into a curtsy, her coppery hair ruffled by the breeze.
Anxiety pierces my belly, wondering if maybe my brother would have made a better king. Wolfe’s dark curls frame his face as he nods. With eyes the color of warm honey, he stands at the door as if he belongs on a throne. Head thrown back, a huge dog at his feet and a beautiful woman by his side, he looks like more of a monarch than I ever did. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he sees me, his gaze shifting to the child hanging off his neck.
My heart takes off. Anxiety ratchets up inside me at the sight of the child, and I know it’s irrational. I know it’s misplaced. I shouldn’t be jealous of my brother’s son, but I can’t help but feel the ache of my own losses.
Then, a hand on my lower back. A calming presence by my side. Asher’s soft voice in my ear saying, “You’ve got this.”
Squaring my shoulders, I paint a smile on my face and walk up to Wolfe. “Hello, Wolfe. Rowan.”
Rowan nods, smiling. Wolfe shifts the babbling boy in his arms, who unhooks an arm to point at me.
Wolfe grins. “Wren missed you.”
“Wren doesn’t remember me.” I laugh.
The one-year-old blinks, laughing, moving his head from side to side as he knocks into Wolfe’s shoulder. The smile on my brother’s face is unlike anything I’ve seen from him before. It’s pure happiness. It’s love like I’ve never experienced. Love I’ll never get to experience.
It makes me feel cold.
Asher’s hand reappears on my back, and his touch melts my anxious thoughts. I clear my throat, glancing at my brother and his wife. “Wolfe, Rowan, this is Asher. We went to school together.”
Wolfe’s amber eyes twinkle when he looks at Asher, who bows to my brother. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “You bow to Wolfe but not to me?” Looking at my brother, I jerk my thumb toward Asher. “This guy wouldn’t know proper etiquette if it hit him across the face.”
“He’ll get along well with Rowan, then.” Wolfe grins, glancing at his wife.
“Hey now.” Rowan arches a brow. “I just didn’t appreciate your sense of entitlement. It has nothing to do with etiquette.” The breeze picks up, blowing her red hair over her shoulder as a smile stretches over her full lips. She looks at Wolfe like he’s her whole world, one hand moving to stroke her son’s back. Wren shifts in Wolfe’s arms, stretching out toward his mother. She takes him in her arms, blowing a raspberry on Wren’s neck as he giggles.
It’s hard to be so close to all this love and happiness. It’s hard to see the change in my brother, from a lonely soul to a family man…
…but it’s not quite as hard as it was before. Behind my pain, something new tugs at me. Warmth soaks into my blood, and I find myself happy for my brother, for once. Truly happy for him. Seeing him with his wife and child, I still feel my own losses, but somehow they’re not as loud as they were before. It’s…easier.
Maybe I’m finally ready to let go.
That child could be the future King of Nord, and…that’s okay.
When I glance at Asher, I find him staring at me. His hand stays on my lower back as we head toward the castle, and my heart does a funny kind of flip. When we cross the threshold, I’m like a snake shedding its skin. I’m leaving the cold, icy woman behind, and I’m opening myself up to something new.
18
Asher
When I’m with Penelope, everything else fades in the distance. The company, my father, the upcoming merger with Donovan Enterprises—nothing matters. All I see is her soft blond hair, her brilliant smile, her velvet blue eyes.
The tremors in my chest feel unfamiliar, but they happen every time she’s around. Whenever she laughs at a stupid joke I make or slips her hand in mine, my heart squeezes in a way I’ve never felt before.
We watch the sun go down at the back of the Summer Palace, having eaten a big meal with Penelope’s brother, Wolfe, and his new wife, Rowan, before leaving them to put their son to bed. The two of them are so in love it’s sickening, but it makes me feel an odd sort of yearning.
Alone with Penelope, I catch myself glancing at her, wondering if she feels this tugging in her chest like I do.
“We used to come to the Summer Palace every year with our parents,” Pen says, smiling at me. “It was my favorite place.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Framed by two tall mountains on either side, the sunset throws pinks and reds across the sky. An eagle cuts across my field of vision, diving down to the meadow below. Soft grasses sway in the wind, and Penelope lets out a happy sigh.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she says.
There it is, that clenching in my chest again. I nod, choking the words out. “Me too.”
“I wonder…” She shakes her head.
“What?”
“I wonder what would happen if we stopped being…professional.”
“I’m not sure we ever have been.” My grin tugs at my lips, and I enjoy watching a blush sweep over Penelope’s cheeks. She ducks her head away from me, watching the sun dip lower on the horizon. Clearing my throat, I reach for her hand. “It would cause a lot of controversy.”
“Would you mind?” Her eyebrows arch.
“If newspapers said nasty things about me?”
She nods.
I chuckle. “No. I’ve heard it all before. Would you?”
“I…” Her blush deepens. She shakes her head, a tendril of gold falling loose from her braid. “I don’t think so.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, I bring my lips to hers. No matter how many times I kiss her, I just can’t get enough of her lips. They taste like the sweetest candy. Like the most delicious thing I’ve ever had, tantalizingly close anytime she’s near. I slide my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. When she rests her head against my chest, it feels…right.
“Is that what you want, Penelope?” I ask. My voice has a rough edge to it, as if I can’t quite shake the emotion off. “You want us to be…public?”
Penelope hesitates, then shrugs. “I don’t know.”
We’re dancing around our words, waiting for the other person to speak. The more time I spend with Penelope, the surer I become that she’s the most incredible woman I’m ever going to meet. There’s no one else that comes close. And if she’s telling me she feels the same way…
…well, that would
be worth anything. It would be worth giving up my place in my father’s company. Worth turning my back on business. Worth shedding the identity I’ve crafted as a businessman.
Being with Penelope would overtake all those things in an instant. I could wake up next to her every morning and capture her lips between mine. I could do all the things I’ve dreamed of doing to her with my hands and tongue and lips. I could see her smiles and try to make her laugh every day, just to watch the way it brightens her face.
“Do you want kids?” Penelope asks in the silence. Her head is still resting on my shoulder, but I can feel tension mounting in her body.
I suck in a breath, letting it out slowly. “No.”
Turning to stare at me, she arches her brows. “Really?”
“I always thought I’d end up alone.”
“That’s sad.”
“Thanks.” I grin.
“So you never wanted to have kids?”
I shake my head. “Don’t think I’d be any good at it.”
Penelope searches my face, shifting her gaze from one eye to the other. Her brows tug together as her lips part, as if she’s trying to draw the truth out of me. Seemingly satisfied with what she sees, she rests her head against my shoulder again. “So…my issues…You wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you asking if I’ll be your boyfriend?” I can’t keep the grin from my voice.
“I’m the Queen, Asher. It doesn’t work that way.”
“How does it work?”
“I…” Penelope inhales, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”
“I don’t want to jeopardize your reputation.”
“And I don’t want to hurt yours either,” she says.
“But this feels…”
“Real,” she finishes, glancing up at me.
A lightning bolt passes through my chest, and suddenly it’s hard to speak. Emotion chokes me, making my pulse quicken and my throat constrict. I never thought I’d meet someone who accepts me for who I am. To be honest, I never thought I’d let anyone close enough to really know me.
Ice Queen: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 14
