Can’t I stay here forever?
Safe and sound, in the circle of Carter’s arms?
Dreams start tugging at me again with heavy fingers, pulling me under. I’m half-asleep against his chest when I mumble his name, my voice barely audible.
“What is it, Emilia?”
“Please… please don’t leave me.”
His hand stills. I hear a sharp intake of air.
Before he has a chance to respond, before I can say something even more asinine… I blessedly tumble over the edge of consciousness. The last thing I hear as I surrender to sleep is a deep, rasping voice.
A single word.
One I’m not even certain is real or the splinter of a dream.
“Never.”
When I wakethe following morning, I’m alone in my tangled sheets. I sit up, squinting around my room for traces of Carter but finding none.
Was he really here?
Was he just a dream?
Wondering will only drive me mad. Scurrying out of bed, I walk to the bathroom, stripping off my cotton tank top and pajama shorts as I go. Under the rainfall shower, I lean my forehead against the tile wall with my eyes closed. No amount of hot water is enough to wash away the sensation of being in Carter’s arms. His hands in my hair. His voice in my head…
“Never.”
The memory sets of fireworks inside my nerve endings.
I shove thoughts of him away and focus on getting ready for my morning ride. It’s snowing lightly, so I dress in layers — thick cream colored leggings, knee-high leather boots, a fitted black jacket made with goose down. I’m halfway to the door when someone knocks on it.
Brows raised, I yank it open to find the same nervous pageboy who delivered my mail the other night loitering in the hallway.
“You again,” I say wryly.
His mouth gapes as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. I wait for him to say something, but he can’t seem to get out a single word.
“Can I help you with something, or…?”
“Yes. Um. Your Highness…”
My brows arch.
He swallows hard. “The— the—”
“Hey. What’s your name?”
“Derrick.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to need you tobreathe,Derrick. Because if you pass out in my doorway, I’ll never receive whatever message you’re trying so desperately to deliver.”
Some of his panic ebbs at my teasing tone. “Right. Sorry. The King— King Linus. He’s requested your immediate presence in his study.”
My stomach drops. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” He squirms, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world except standing here.