Since it was the weekend, I had decided to stay up and wait for my husband, hoping we could finally have a real conversation. Normally, we exchange nothing more than brief greetings in the mornings. Then he leaves for his duties as the future Enforcer—whatever those might be—while I spend my time with Andrea or find solace in books.

But as his footsteps grew closer, my courage vanished. Panicking, I did the only thing that came to mind: I pretended to be asleep. I shifted quickly into a relaxed position, forcing my breathing to steady. Andrea had once taught me how to mimic deep sleep, and I focused on getting it just right.

I listened intently as he approached the bed. The soft rustling of clothes followed, and then the mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed in behind me. My pulse pounded, and I concentrated on maintaining the even rise and fall of my chest.

But then, his strong, warm hand slipped under my shirt and rested on my stomach, his touch searing against my skin. My muscles clenched instinctively, but I fought to keep still. He began drawing lazy, featherlight patterns on my skin, each movement sending shivers through me. It took everything I had not to gasp.

Then, to my horror, he let out a low chuckle.

Had he realized I was awake?

Before I could decide what to do, he tugged me back into his chest. A startled gasp slipped out, betraying me. His muscular frame pressed firmly against mine, and his heat radiated through the thin fabric of my shirt. I could feel his breath, warm and teasing, on my neck. Goosebumps erupted over my skin, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against the curve of my ear.

“Any reason why you’re playing dead, little deer?” he murmured, his voice a deep, silky drawl. “Don’t you know that predators love to toy with defenseless prey?”

I couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through me, but I stubbornly kept my eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge him. He chuckled softly, his lips trailing down to my pulse point.

“You’ve been caught, little deer. Look at me. There’s no use pretending.” His fingers grazed a ticklish spot on my side, and I jerked involuntarily, swatting his hand away.

He laughed softly, the sound rich and amused. My cheeks flamed. Mortified, I slowly turned to face him, peeking out from beneath the blanket. His eyes were filled with amusement, and his lips were quirked into a smirk. I must have looked utterly ridiculous, blushing like a fool.

God, why did I react like that? I’m so pathetic. But how could I not? He’s so infuriatingly handsome, and every time I see him, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he actually kissed me—not just the brief, polite brush of lips from our wedding day.

But I couldn’t say any of that. I wasn’t brave enough. I’d die of embarrassment.

“I’m assuming that since you stayed up, you have something to ask or tell me.” His voice was calm, confident, almost knowing. He had read me perfectly, as always.

“Uh—yes, I did. But—um—never mind. It’s not important.” I floundered, my words coming out jumbled and weak. What was I thinking? How could I just blurt out that I wanted to explore our physical relationship? He didn’t even know what was on my mind, and yet I was blushing furiously.

Maybe it was the topic, or maybe it was because he’d caught me pretending to be asleep. Or maybe it was the fact that he was so close, his bare chest inches away, filling my vision.

He pulled me closer still, and now I had to crane my neck to look up at him. His smirk deepened.

“Now I’m curious. What were you going to talk about that has you so flustered? Your face is the color of a ripe apple.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he studied me.

I shot him a glare, but that only seemed to amuse him further.

“A cute apple, don’t worry,” he teased softly, pinching my cheeks gently.

“I wanted to talk about—” I started, then faltered, the words dying on my lips. My gaze lingered on his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He was so impossibly handsome.

“You want to talk about our physical relationship?” he asked softly. His playful smirk melted into a small, almost hesitant smile, the shift in his expression startling.

My eyes widened in shock. How could he—? No. No way. Can he read my mind?

“N-No!” I stammered, trying to pull away, but he didn’t loosen his grip. His arms held me firmly in place, not letting me escape.

“Your reaction says otherwise,” he murmured. His gaze softened as it roamed over my face. “You need to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, little deer. Communication is key, remember?”

“Just because I’m not ready for… for sex,” I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to do other things with you.”

He froze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Other things?”

Panic surged. He didn’t understand. I’m never going to be the kind of woman he wants. I’m just a coward. Stupid, weird, and useless. Why couldn’t I just—

“Never mind,” I mumbled, shame and insecurity flooding me. I tried to turn away, but he caught my face in his hands and pulled me close, his lips crashing down on mine.

All coherent thought vanished as his mouth moved against mine. It was a kiss that stole my breath, neither overly gentle nor too demanding. Just perfect. He kissed me like he was making a point, like he needed me to understand something I couldn’t put into words.