Page 51 of Crowned for His Son

The tiniest dart of pain at her temple made her flinch. Piercing eyes found her an instant later. Assessed her thoroughly, as if judging whether or not to divulge whatever he was withholding.

Eden fought the exasperation building within her. ‘Justtellme! I want to know everything. But if you feel so strongly about how it’ll affect me, at least tell me something about you and Nick. You claim you were friends, and yet I feel something else was going on.’

His hands tightened around the reins until his knuckles whitened. When his horse picked up on the charged atmosphere and whinnied he leaned forward, trailing a soothing hand down its strong neck until the stallion quietened.

It seemed almost unnatural for the formidable almost-King to be buying himself time, and yet it felt as if that was exactly what he was doing. That little glimpse of humanity attacked the vulnerable spot inside her.

‘Nick and Iwerefriends,’ he eventually said starkly. ‘As much as two people could be while navigating their families’ hidden agendas and protocols. But he liked to play games.’

She took a moment to dissect that. ‘True friendship can cut through that, surely?’

A spasm of regret chased across his taut features. ‘I thought he’d outgrown it. But conditioning has a way of lingering, long after you believe it’s gone. And Nick couldn’t quite shake his.’

Again she drilled through his cagey words, her heart thumping as she wondered if he meant her, too. She remained silent.

‘He was taught to work at every relationship and come out on top. To win every power struggle.’ A hard-edged smile twitched his lips. ‘I made it clear he would never win a power play with me. That’s how our relationship at boarding school started. Putting our cards on the table cut through a lot of the nonsense.’

‘But despite all that he never quite stopped competing with you? And I just so happened to be caught in one of your games?’ she guessed, hoping it wasn’t true, but suspecting it was.

His gaze tracked the horizon, his jaw taut. ‘He insisted that since he saw you first, you belonged to him—despite ample evidence to the contrary.’

Heat surged into her face, but she refused to be bathed in shame. Refused to believe her mother’s neediness and desperation for affection had rubbed off on her just when she’d needed it not to. But considering this man—this maddeningly irresistible man—was the one she’d been battling against, could she be faulted for succumbing?

Yes.Still…

‘I didn’t throw myself at you,’ she rallied, clinging to the belief.

His imperious head turned, sardonic eyes lasering her where she sat in the saddle. ‘There was no need for you to go quite that far.’

‘Because you’re so well versed in zealous adoration you can spot it at a thousand paces?’

He shook his head, almost pityingly. Then his face closed. ‘We’ve been over this already,carina. It’s because I was twice as affected. Twice as enthralled. And I’m not ashamed to confess it was the first time it’d ever happened. So,sí, I was intrigued. Enough to decline stepping aside for my best friend.’

There went her stupid heart again, when he was only referring to chemical attraction.

Somehow she found the strength to raise her hand, bat that away. To remember that her mother had been a source of intrigue for her father once upon a time. Until he’d had his fill and cast her aside. A trend that had repeated itself with stomach-hollowing frequency.

‘So if I didn’t throw myself at you, and you had issues with Nick, why do I feel as I’m the vill—?’

‘You’re not Nick’s type,’ he cut in stonily. ‘I’m at a loss as to why he brought you to Arizona.’

‘Because a supposed two-bit gold-digger looking for a payout has no place in a billionaires’ playground?’ she asked bitterly. ‘Or should I leave the slut-shaming to Nick’s father?’

Azar’s eyes blazed, his body going rigid. ‘He did that?’

Her insides congealed at the memory. ‘When I contacted him…thinking Nick was Max’s father.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘He reminded me that men like my father truly are a dime a dozen.’

His face tightened. ‘Your father—?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ she interrupted.

His gaze rested heavily on her for another stretch. ‘Then don’t,’ he said. ‘And, since I have first-hand evidence that you were the farthest thing from a slut, that should answer your question.’

She was still tussling with that when he sighed.

‘We’ve strayed too far into unadvisable territory. Once your memory returns we’ll pick this up from a position of greater understanding.Sí?’

Push, pull? Support or manipulation?

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