Page 29 of Princess Bride Swap

But that was not her fault, though it was tempting to think that considering he’d never been driven to be so reckless before. Still, the fault lay with him. Only weak men blamed others for their own mistakes.

Gingerly, he picked her up off the counter and then carried her through the chalet into his bedroom. He laid her on the bed. He needed to leave her. He needed to...to...

He sank onto the edge of the bed. Sat there, head in his hands. What had he done? What had become of him? How did he fix this mistake?

He heard her move, and then she was behind him, palms on his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“That was not how it should have gone, Beaugonia.”

“Why not?”

How could she even ask that as if she had no idea? He looked at her over his shoulder. “Rough and frenzied in the kitchen? This is not appropriate. This is not what a man in control of himself does.” He looked back down at his hands. “It was wrong to treat you like that. Wrong to lose...” He didn’t even know what other words there were.

All he knew was he looked at his own hands and saw every man in the royal line who had squandered the responsibility of the crown. For power. For a woman. For fun. All to follow their selfish desires to ruination.

He hadn’t ruined anything yet, but this felt like the first step down a slippery slope.

Her palm trailed down his spine. “Lyon. I liked the way you treated me. I liked it, and you did too. If we both enjoyed ourselves, why should you feel badly about it?”

He supposed she had enjoyed it. She wasn’t experienced enough to pretend, and even if she was, there was no denying she’d been a willing and animated participant. And still he felt like he’d defiled everything he was supposed to keep respectable and stable.

“I must be in control at all times. I am not like my cousins. My uncles.” He could not allow himself to be. Perhaps most of them had made their disgraces with women who were not their wives, over money that was not theirs, but anything that could be leaked to the public could be used against him. His grandmother’s brother’s wild exploits with his wife might not make waves today, but it had at the time.

And no doubt, the man had known better, known it would. But he had cared more about his own wants than what he owed. Which is what Lyon had just done.

It had to end right here. “I will not be like them.” Maybe if she understood that, they could move beyond this...misstep.

But she pressed her mouth to his back. In comfort. Like she understood. Like everything she was and offered could be enough.

“This isn’t about countries,” she said gently. “Citizens and responsibilities. It’s simply what we do in the dark. We’re married. And... And it’s a requirement. How else are we going to have an heir? I mean, I can lay on my back and think of England if it really makes you feel better, but I like what we did tonight better. Well, I assume I do anyway.”

He wanted tolaugh, and he couldn’t for the life of him determine why. This wasn’t the least bit funny. “Beau.” She didn’t understand. He could not let feelings and his own wants outweigh responsibility.

Too many before him had.

There had to be a time and place for things. Not kitchens and whenever the need struck. There needed to be lines uncrossed, boxes things were kept firmly in. Anything that even whispered at personal wants had to be done with control and privacy.

But when he turned to face her, she was the most beautiful, glorious thing he’d ever encountered. She was hiswife, and theydidneed heirs.

But he would have to find some way to put a wall up around all this...dangerous desire. She would need to get pregnant soon. He’d heard from his mother pregnancy was an uncomfortable, painful experience. Beau wouldn’t want him then, wouldn’t tempt him then. And then there’d be a child.

It could stand between them and...this.

“Our things should all be unpacked. Perhaps you would like some pajamas,” he suggested.

She flopped back onto the mattress and spread her arms wide as she looked up at the ceiling. Perfectly, beautifully naked. So that he found himself stirring again already.

“I think I should like to sleep perfectly naked,” she said with a smug smile.

“Beaugonia.”

She lifted her head, gave him an arch look. “What?”

It seemed imperative then. That she understand. Above all else. No matter what happened. No matter what he felt or didn’t. No matter what he resisted, or how he failed. There was one truth to his entire life he could not let go of.

“My country will always come first. My responsibilities. My control. It is my birthright. The promise I made to my grandmother before she died. Nothing can change that.”

She studied him with those eyes that would haunt him until the day he died. Like she simply knew everything, and that was why every color danced there. “I didn’t ask you to change, Lyon. I didn’t ask you to put me above anything. I didn’t ask you for anything.”