Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,43
already is.” She huffs out a laugh, putting a hand to her forehead. Clearing her throat, she reaches for her top and clutches it to her chest, as if she doesn’t want to be naked with me right now.
It stings and I’m not sure why.
“Bathroom?” she asks. “I’d like to take a shower.”
I jerk my head to a door adjoining the bedroom and watch her scuttle toward it, still hiding herself behind her sweater.
I glance down at my cock, letting out a long breath. That was probably a dumb idea. I shouldn’t be having sex with anyone right now, and especially not a woman I just met.
Especially not when there’s a possibility she could get pregnant.
Fuck.
Flopping onto the bed, I scrub my face with my hands. I let my cock get the better of me. It’s been begging me to act on these desires since the first day I met Rowan. Now what?
I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have given in. I should have ignored the thumping in my chest and the burning desire to have a taste of her. I came to the Summer Palace exactly to avoid this kind of thing. To spend the month by myself, sorting through the mess in my mind. To weather the storm that October brings for another year.
The bathroom door opens, and Rowan emerges in a cloud of steam. She has a fluffy white towel wrapped around her body. The deer-in-headlights look in her eyes has ceded to a more closed-off expression, and she gives me a quick nod.
“Go ahead.”
We don’t say another word as I walk by her in the bathroom, and although her cheeks are pink, she doesn’t meet my eye.
She regrets this. Wishes we hadn’t slept together.
She’s probably right. It was a dumb idea.
By the time I’m done showering, Rowan isn’t in the room. I find her in the main space, in front of the fire sipping her forgotten drink. She glances back at me, nodding.
“Any food in this place?”
“Mostly non-perishables.”
“At least there’s alcohol.” She gives me a smile, but it’s not quite as bright as it was an hour ago.
I sit down opposite her, picking up my own discarded drink. I jerk my chin toward her. “You okay?”
“Fine, why?”
“You regret what we just did?”
“I guess that depends on whether or not I get pregnant.” She says it as a joke, forcing out a laugh, but it falls flat. Her lips drop and she turns to the fire, wrapping her arms around herself and taking another sip.
“It’ll be fine. By morning we’ll be able to get back to the castle, and Dr. Williams will have something for you to take.”
Rowan nods. “The odds are super low, anyway.”
“Exactly.”
I open my mouth to add something, then hesitate. I want to ask her if she’d regret it even if she wasn’t pregnant. If she’d ever want to do this again. If she felt something while we were in the bedroom that might have felt like more than just sex.
I sure as hell did—not that I’d ever admit it.
Rowan drains her glass and glances at me. “Well, I have a lot to think about with that new design. I might sketch out some drawings based on those paintings tonight and then turn in. I’m assuming there’s more than one bedroom in this place?”
I nod, my face remaining neutral. “You can take the room we were in. It’s the master. I’ll sleep down the hall.”
Rowan gives me a pinched smile, carrying her glass as she walks over to the studio. I hear the door opening and closing.
I’m alone.
I stare at the fire until it dies down, then I go check on the dogs and head to bed. I don’t see Rowan again until morning.
When I get up, I give the dogs breakfast in the kennel and head back inside to find Rowan making coffee. She turns to face me with a mug of coffee in her hand. Her face looks lined, as if she barely slept last night.
Was she worried about the broken condom? Or something else?
“Weather looks pretty clear,” she says quietly.
“We can head back after coffee,” I answer.
There’s distance between us, and I hate it. I hate that she regrets what happened. Most of all, I hate that I care. So, what, I sleep with a woman and suddenly I’m in love? Why do I care if Rowan regrets this or not? It’s not like we’re together. She’s the architect in charge of the redesign of my palace, for shit’s sake.