beneath me, and I felt his fingers playing with the back of my dress.
“How many damn buttons does this thing have?” he complained.
“I know! It’s—”
Maxon sat up, placing his hands along the bust line of my dress. With one firm pull, he ripped my dress down the front, exposing the slip underneath.
There was a charged silence as Maxon took that in. Slowly, his eyes returned to mine. Without breaking that contact, I sat up, sliding the sleeves of my dress down my back. It took a little bit of work to get it all off; and, by the end of it, Maxon and I were kneeling on my bed, my hardly covered chest pressed to his, kissing slowly.
I wanted to stay up all night with him, to explore this new feeling we’d discovered. It felt as if everything else in the world was gone . . . until we heard a crash in the hall. Maxon stared at the door, seeming to expect it to burst open at any second. He was tense, more frightened than I’d ever seen him.
“It’s not him,” I whispered. “It’s probably one of the girls stumbling to her room, or a maid cleaning something. It’s okay.”
He finally released a breath I didn’t see he was holding and fell back onto the bed. He draped an arm over his eyes, frustrated or exhausted or maybe both.
“I can’t, America. Not like this.”
“But it’s okay, Maxon. We’re safe here.” I lay down beside him, cuddling onto his free shoulder.
He shook his head. “I want to let all the walls down with you. You deserve that. And I can’t now.” He looked over to me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” But I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
“Don’t be sad. I want to take you on a proper honeymoon. Someplace warm and private. No duties, no cameras, no guards.” He wrapped his arms around me. “It will be so much better that way. And I can really spoil you.”
It didn’t sound so bad to wait when he put it that way, but as always, I pushed back. “You can’t spoil me, Maxon. I don’t want anything.”
We were nose to nose by then. “Oh, I know. I don’t intend on giving you things. Well,” he amended, “I do intend on giving you things, but that’s not what I mean. I’m going to love you more than any man has ever loved a woman, more than you ever dreamed you could be loved. I promise you that.”
The kisses that followed were sweet and hopeful, like our first ones. I could feel it, the promise he’d just made, starting now. And I was afraid and excited by the possibility of being loved so much.
“Maxon?”
“Yes?”
“Would you stay with me tonight?” I asked. Maxon raised an eyebrow, and I giggled. “I’ll behave, I promise. Just . . . would you sleep here?”
He looked to the ceiling, debating. Finally he caved. “I will. But I’ll need to leave early.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Maxon took off his pants and socks, neatly stacking his clothes so they wouldn’t be too wrinkled in the morning. He crawled back into the bed, snuggling up with his stomach against my back. One of his arms he laced under my neck and the other he gently wrapped around me.
I loved my bed at the palace. The pillows were like clouds, and the mattress cradled me into it. I was never too warm or too cold under my covers, and the feeling of my nightgown against my skin was almost as if I was wearing air.
But I’d never felt so settled as I did with Maxon’s arms around me.
He placed a gentle kiss behind my ear. “Sleep well, my America.”
“I love you,” I said quietly.
He held me a little tighter. “I love you.”
I lay there, letting the happiness of the moment sink into me. It seemed only seconds later that Maxon’s breathing was slow and steady. He was already asleep.
Maxon never slept.
I must have made him feel safer than I’d imagined. And, after all my worries about how his father acted toward me, he made me feel safe, too.
I sighed, promising myself that we’d talk about Aspen tomorrow. It would need to happen before the ceremony, and I felt sure I knew how to explain things in the best way. For now, I would enjoy this tiny bubble of peace and rest securely in the arms of the man I loved.
CHAPTER 28
I WOKE TO THE FEELING of Maxon sliding an arm around me. Somewhere in the night, I ended up