“I am,” he says, lips still kissing me, covering every square inch of my face, before exploring the deep square neckline of my dress.

“And you may come in. Though I warn you, I am not alone, I am enjoying some time with my bride.”

I start to pull away, feeling embarrassed by this public display and longing for the shadowed corner again. But Alrik won’t have it, and he pulls me back to him. Crooking his arm tightly around my waist as Heath comes into the room, bows deeply, and barely taking a moment to venture a glance at us, says, “M’lord and Esme.” His back straightening again only to reveal a look of pure horror that plays across his face. “Oh, Adelina, forgive me. I misspoke. I assumed…” His face heating to a thousand degrees, allowing the words to trail off from there. Having nowhere to go with that, no elegant way to take the words back.

Even worse is the fact that Heath has only very recently asked for my hand—something known only to Heath, my parents (who scolded me to an unbelievable degree for denying him), and I. Luckily, Alrik hasn’t a clue. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t be welcoming his oldest and dearest childhood friend, his father’s most favored knight, in the way he is now.

My eyes graze over Heath, taking in his coarse, golden-brown hair, his startling blue-green gaze, his lean, muscled form—feeling terribly guilty at his finding us like this, knowing my life would be so much simpler if I could just force myself to return his affections. But that’s like saying if it weren’t for the existence of the sun you’d be satisfied with an onslaught of rain everyday.

The heart knows no logic, and rarely corresponds with the brain.

When Alrik is present, everyone dims.

And as handsome and kind and well intentioned as Heath is, he becomes nearly invisible when he’s next to Alrik. It may sound cruel on the surface, but it’s the stone cold truth.

“Nonsense, my friend!” Alrik cries, not at all bothered by Heath’s glaring faux pas. “Come join us! I sent for you for a reason, I wanted you to be the first to hear our happy news—Adelina and I are to be married!”

“Sir.” He bows, mostly out of respect, but partly to hide an expression that is clearly conflicted. And by the time he straightens again, he’s back in control, though he still makes an effort to avoid looking at me.

“I trust you will keep this under wraps until it is time to reveal?”

“And when will that be, sir?”

“Tomorrow we will marry. And the day after that, I will share my joy with the kingdom. But for now, I must go. I have some last-minute details to attend to. So, may I trust you to escort Adelina, my future bride, safely home?”

“Of course, m’lord.” He bows once more. But this time, when I remove myself from Alrik’s kiss, I catch Heath peering at me in a way I can’t read.

His face bearing a look I continue to ponder long after he’s exchanged it for another, more malleable one.

A look I continue to guess at as we make our way out of the stables and into what’s left of the daylight.

A look that while I still can’t define, manages to linger—the sheer insistence of it leaving me profoundly uneasy.

Chapter fourteen

We ride in silence. Or rather I ride, Heath walks alongside me with the reins held loosely in hand, the two of us lost in our own mental landscapes. And though he’s had plenty of opportunity to address me, it’s not until we’ve nearly arrived when he chooses to speak.

“Do you love him?” he asks, the words simple, direct, as though we’d been engaged in the sort of conversation that naturally brought us to this point. And though he strives to mask the pain behind the statement, he fails miserably. I can feel his despair from up here.

I press my lips together and look away, wishing I could refuse to answer. Most females would. Claiming great offense to have their heart questioned, their privacy trespassed upon, that it could hardly be considered his business, and so on.

But I’m not like most females. I detest that sort of falsity, that sort of game.

Besides, Heath is kind and decent. I owe him something better, an honest answer at the very least. No matter how much it hurts.

After all, we’ve shared a kiss.

Or rather, several kisses—a series of kisses, if you will.

Kisses that, from what I can tell, came to mean much more to him than to me.

I was merely experimenting. Trying to see if my head could influence my heart. Wanting to see if all kisses were like Alrik’s. His being the first left me with none other to judge by. And though it was nice kissing Heath, while it left me feeling soft, and calm, and serene—like floating on a luxurious raft in a beautiful, tranquil blue sea—it still couldn’t compete with Alrik’s rush of warmth. His swarm of tingle and heat.

Though unfortunately, it wasn’t until my experiment failed that I realized Heath’s intentions were entirely different. He wasn’t testing the waters. He was expressing his interest in me.

And though my life would surely be easier if I could return his affections, I just can’t, and it would be cruel to pretend otherwise.

I take a deep breath. Allow him to lift me out of the saddle and onto the ground, where he places me gently before him. His face mere inches from mine, hands still grasping either side of my waist, the feel of them resulting in the usual stream of calm, cool energy I’ve come to associate with him.

“Yes,” I say, trying to soften the word, but no matter how it’s spoken, I imagine it feels like a dagger to him. “Yes, I do love him.” I sigh, feeling the need to further explain when I add, “I can’t help it. It’s just… unexplainable. It’s just one of those things.”