Page 36 of Royally Arranged

My heart cracked at how he said that. “I’d love to hear you play.”

Again he glanced at me, his eyebrows squirming. It was a feat that they managed to keep from touching. He opened his mouth, then closed it, abandoning whatever he’d wanted to say.

We parked in the lot outside the city’s main shopping center. He cut the engine but yanked the keys out so quick that they tumbled from his fingers, landing by my feet. “Shit!” he cursed. Faster than I could react, he leaned toward me, his thick shoulder brushing my arm.

I’d thought I’d been awake before. The sensation of him grinding on my skin set me into hyperawareness. Thorne smelled like a fire on a misty mountain. At this angle, I could catch a glimpse of the ink cresting along the base of his neck through the top of his shirt.

My bottom lip trembled. I was struggling with an urge to kiss him, strip him, fuck him right here in the car. After we’d had sex, I was confused that nothing about me had changed. It had taken a full day before I’d noticed what he’d done; Thorne had woken up an insatiable hunger in me—a beast that was mad for more of what only he could give.

Being near him was both electrifying and frightening. I was scared of what I’d do if he stayed too close. Afraid of another moment spent without him touching me. Each night since the cemetery I’d writhed in my bed, soaking my sheets and clenching around the emptiness between my thighs. I’d never experienced such a massive craving in all my life.

“You all right?” he whispered. He’d gone still next to me. The keys were in his hands, dangling there, showing us both what he’d really been after.

“Yeah.” I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my dry mouth. “I’m good. Let’s go do this retail therapy stuff.”

“Wait.”

My breath tangled up in my chest.

Thorne slid his phone out, holding it between us. “Let’s exchange numbers. We don’t want to get separated in there and not be able to get in touch.”

I eased back into my seat. “Right.”

“Also,” he added as we typed our numbers in, “it’s probably a step we should have done before we agreed to marry each other.” He grinned in that boyish way of his. His humor calmed me down, and I found myself smiling easily again.

We exited the car and entered the shopping center together. There were a ton of stores, from high-end things like Gucci to three different McDonald’s. As we passed one of the latter, Thorne stopped in his tracks. “What in the world is that?” he asked. He was pointing at the gigantic machine that displayed rotating three-dimensional images of different food.

“Have you never seen one of those before?”

“A fast-food ATM?” Laughing, he strolled up to the brightly glowing machine. “No. I have to say I have not.” He tapped it with his knuckles. “Do the sandwiches come out of this?”

“No, no.” I was smiling so big my face hurt. I pointed farther down, to the small counter space manned by a single employee. “You order here, then pick up there.”

“Seems a little redundant.”

Backtracking a step, I started to walk, but he didn’t follow. “Are you coming?”

Flicking out his wallet, he raised an eyebrow at me. “And miss trying out the fast-food machine of the future? I think not.” He poked the screen, scrolling through the options. “This is all in French. Why would they do that to me? Me, the nice man who wants an AI-ordered burger?”

All right, that was too much. Laughing with my head thrown back, I sidled up to him. “You’re not ancient enough to not understand technology, Thorne.” Twoclicks and I’d switched the machine to English. Then I ordered myself a vanilla shake. “My payment,” I explained.

“You’re so greedy,” he scoffed. “Awholemilkshake?” Scanning the menu, he ordered himself some fries, then slid his card into the slot to pay. A little word bubble popped up, telling us to go to the counter to pick up our food.

“I’ll get it,” I said, jogging over and claiming the small tray. But when I came back to the machine, Thorne was standing there, his wallet still open, his credit card still in his hand. “What’s up?” I asked, sucking at the vanilla shake.

He turned his credit card between his fingers. “It occurred to me that you’ve taken away one of my advantages. I’ve never bought lunch for a woman who was as rich as me. Spoiling girls is one of my favorite things, but I can’t spoil you.”

The shake became thicker in my mouth; I struggled to get it down. Hawthorne had on a half smile, as if he was kidding around. I didn’t think he was. This actually bothered him.

I handed him his fries. “You can still spoil me.”

“How?”

Slipping my hand into his, I tugged, encouraging him to walk. “Like this.” I squeezed as hard as I could. Thorne stood straighter, clutching the fries. “I’ve never been out with ... well, someone like you,” I said as my cheeks went hot. “It’s fun to be seen. To feel special.”

He looped the crook of his arm around mine firmly, his shoulders pulling back, tugging me into his hip. “You know how to make a guy’s ego swell. And other things.”

Sparks tortured my core; I nearly tripped. His pupils vanished into his irises so that everything became big pools of black. I was glad for my icy shake, it helped soothe some of the hellfire between my legs.

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