no need for you to remain in hiding.”
She could practically hear Max’s teeth grinding. “I want nothing more than for my parents’ murderer to be punished, Max. But even if she was, I don’t want anything to do with that throne.”
He gaped at her. “How can you say that? Sweetheart, it’s your legacy.”
“I don’t care. It means nothing to me. I’m perfectly content with being a witch, living my quiet, uneventful life.” She grimaced. “Okay, it used to be uneventful up until a week ago, anyway.”
Max shot to his feet and began pacing in front of her. “There’s a part of your history that Aurele left out. It may change your mind about your heritage.”
“I doubt it.”
He stopped burning his path in the carpet, his features set with a fierce determination. “When your mother chose your father, she gave up her crown. Now you have the opportunity to make things right, by reclaiming the title.”
She frowned. “What did her marrying my dad have to do with it?”
“He was a commoner. The Atlanteans are sticklers when it comes to not polluting the bloodlines. Remember what Aurele said about your family being the last direct link to Poseidon? That’s what kept the throne in your family’s possession throughout the ages.”
“But if my mother was denied ruling privileges, what makes you think I would be given any? I’m half human. Talk about a big black mark on my candidacy.”
“Normally that would be the case, yes. But you’re the last of the Anastasios. Without you, there is no ruler of Atlantis.”
“What the hell is an Anastasios?”
“You’re an Anastasios. It’s your family name.”
She mulled it over. “I like Jameson a lot better. Anastasios sounds too much like one of the bad guys from a James Bond flick. I’m picturing him with an eyepatch and a false gold tooth that’s really a wireless communicator that sends top-secret transmissions to his lair in the Swiss Alps.”
Max gaped at her before plowing his fingers through his hair and grunting. “Great, now I can’t remember what I was going to say.”
She offered him an innocent smile, and he growled. Ignoring his surliness, she removed the rest of her clothes and set her glasses on the nightstand for safekeeping. “Why don’t you stop your fretting for now and come to bed?”
“Men don’t fret, goddamn it.”
“Please. You’re worse than Aurele.”
Glowering, he stripped down to his skivvies and climbed beneath the sheets with her. They faced each other, and she automatically cuddled into his heat, resting her head in the crook of his arm. “I didn’t say it before, but I want you to know I appreciate you being here for me. I’m just sorry you’ve been dragged into all of this craziness.”
He smoothed her hair away from her forehead. She nuzzled into his touch, grateful to have this intimacy back. The awkward barrier she’d sensed earlier still hovered in the distance, but damn if she’d let it sneak too close.
She snuggled into Max, breathing him deep, his ocean musk more potent than an aphrodisiac. She remembered his claim about their energies being drawn to each other. Did that explain this wild craving he brought out in her? Maybe a little. But the chaotic emotion filling the chambers of her heart wasn’t lust. She traced the contours of his bristly jaw before coaxing his head nearer. Their lips met, and she poured every ounce of her love into the kiss.
A tremor ran through Max, and she felt his resistance as he struggled against whatever force had erected that invisible barrier. She reached for his thickening erection and stroked him through the cotton of his briefs, capturing his frustrated groan within her mouth. Her tongue slicked along his, an unspoken plea to return her love. End her loneliness.
His hands bracketed her face, and he kissed her with the intensity of a man consumed by the fires of passion. Or the demons of repressed desire. She twisted the waistband of his briefs, impatiently tugging it past his hips and the firm globes of his ass. The garment caught around his knees, and she used her foot to free it the rest of the way from his legs. He rolled her onto her back, the hardness of his cock nudging her slit. She arched into him, but he hesitated. Undulating beneath him, she whimpered, desperate to be filled. Taken.
“Willa, I don’t deserve what you’re offering.” The possessiveness in his eyes undermined his words.
“This is a really crappy time to become a gentleman.” She trailed her