47. Garrett

47

GARRETT

“No,” said Kristina. “No! I need you!”

I stared at the dark, polished wood of the door. I could hear her, hear the tiny laps and splashes as she moved around in the tub. I could smell the bath oil, like sweet oranges and flowers. Her skin would smell of it, if I ran in there and pressed my body against hers, her wet breasts pillowing against my chest. In my mind, I could see her, skin glistening, strands of her chestnut hair sticking to her pale shoulders.

My hand ached with the need to just grab the handle and hurl the door open. Sitting there was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life... which was exactly why I had to leave.

“You’re safe in the palace,” I said. “And I’ve heard the General, he’s confident you’ll win the war as long as we attack first. The threat against you will be gone.”

“It’s not just about needing your protection.” The pain in her voice made my chest ache.

I closed my eyes. “I know. That’s why I have to leave.” I sighed. “You’re a princess—Hell, you’re the Queen, now. I’m—”

“I don’t care what you are, Garrett!”

I opened my eyes and looked around at the huge chandelier and the four poster bed. At the solid silver chess set and the gold candlesticks. “We’re from two different worlds, Kristina. You can’t be with me. I thought coming here with you was the right thing to do, but it’s just hurting you more and I never wanted to hurt you. You’re the most special damn thing I’ve ever known in my life. I never wanted anyone so bad. But life ain’t a fairytale.” I pressed my palm against the door, wishing I could touch her.