Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“You know I could force you. I could command you to kneel right here, right now, and take your kingdom from you forever.”
“You could try,” she retorted. “But you’d fail. You may conquer nations, Alexander, but you cannot conquer me.”
He reached out, cupping her cheek. She tensed, awaiting his next move.
“I don’t want to conquer you, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice raw. “I want you to rule by my side. As my equal. As my queen.”
The vulnerability in his words caught her off guard. She had expected arrogance, demands, perhaps even cruelty.
But not this. Not this unexpected plea. His hand, still on her cheek, was gentle, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to feel it. Allowed herself to imagine a different fate, one where they could stand together, two of the greatest rulers the world had ever seen.
But it was just a fleeting fantasy.
She drew in a sharp breath and pulled away, the cold chains clinking softly as she broke free of his touch. “You would have me betray everything I stand for. You would have me turn my back on my people, my crown, my very soul. I am not a prize to be won.”
“Yes, you are much more than that. You are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. That is why I want you beside me—not as a prize but as a partner.”
“Your partner?” she mocked. “What partnership could exist between the conqueror and the conquered?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his face mere inches from hers. His presence was intoxicating, powerful, and yet there was a softness to him she hadn’t seen before.
“If you say the word, I will release you. I will leave this city, leave England, and never return. You will have your throne, your people, and your freedom.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Was it possible? Could it be true? Would he truly walk away?
“I will do it all—for one night in your chamber.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened.
“One night in the warmth of your bed and the moist heat of your sheath. Give me this, and I shall return England to you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BECKETT
You’re welcome. Just saved your relationship
IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT, AND WE’RE ALL CRAMMED INTO THE VISITOR’S LOCKER room, wishing this were a home game. St. Anthony’s is a D1 school, but they don’t have the kind of booster backing that Briar does. Garrett Graham built us a brand-new hockey facility, for fuck’s sake. St. Anthony’s arena is a shanty town in comparison.
The only good thing about tonight is that our trusty camera crew has finally fucked off to parts unknown. Will’s father’s assistant informed Will last night that Capitol TV got all the footage and interviews they needed, which means we can go back to not having to worry about someone accidentally filming our penises when we’re changing.
Coach steps to the front of the locker room in preparation to bark out the ten or so words that typically comprise his “pep talks.” Shane and I have started making wagers on how many words he’ll use total. Today’s over-under is twelve. I’m the under, so I’m really hoping it’s a short one.
“Focus tonight. We’re on track to win our conference. Don’t fuck it up.”
Thirteen words.
Motherfucker.
Shane pokes me in the side. I’m wearing full padding, so I barely feel it. But I do feel the smugness rolling off him. Shane is such a dickhead winner.
As I walk on skate guards toward the door, Coach intercepts me. “Dunne, I want you to stay on Palecki’s ass tonight. He’s a nuisance.”
“You got it, Coach.”
I keep my promise. Anytime Nathan Palecki even breathes near the puck, I’m on him. The game ends up being a bigger ass-kicking than any of us anticipated. We figured we’d win by at least a goal or two, but we leave St. Anthony’s that evening riding the high of the ass-kicking of the century.
Final score, 6–1.
It isn’t until we’re settling in for the bus ride back to Briar that I’m forced to think my own thoughts. Before this moment, I had a ton of distractions to keep my brain busy. Now, there’s nothing stopping me from thinking about what happened this week with Charlie.
As in I shouldn’t have hooked up with her.
I should’ve comforted her.
Because that’s what she’d really been seeking that morning. Comfort. She’d wanted advice, emotional support, and instead of giving that to her, I made it about sex instead.
Sex is easier than feelings. The moment things get too heavy, I possess the uncanny power to lighten them using a bit of charm and a lot of tongue.
It’s been a long time, though, since I felt the temptation to connect with someone on a deeper level. When Charlie confessed to feeling overwhelmed and afraid about how to handle the situation with her brother, I did what I always do: I resorted to distraction.