The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс
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shatter into tinier pieces until that moment.
The limo turned onto the mile-long drive leading to the palace.
Unable to face the palace and her lonely suite, she pressed the intercom on the armrest that connected to the driver. ‘Can you take me round to the other house, please?’
Her driver glanced sharply at her. ‘But, Your Majesty, it’s Thursday today, not Friday.’
Jasmine nodded. ‘I know, Raul. Take me there anyway.’
‘Of course. As you wish, Your Majesty,’ he replied deferentially.
She’d started going to the small house every Friday and staying the night. If she’d had a choice, Jasmine would’ve moved into the adorable little house. But considering she needed an armed escort wherever she went, she couldn’t subject her guards to nightly patrols in the cold. So she’d restricted her visits to once a week. But this week, she might make it two nights...
Reyes was off hammering out the last terms of the new trade treaty, and Isabella had left for Milan this morning to consult over her autumn/winter wardrobe.
She’d urged Jasmine to go along with her, but she hadn’t been in the mood. Besides, by the time winter rolled around she would be in the late stages of pregnancy.
Leaning her head back, she rubbed her hand over her belly. The morning sickness had finally waned and, according to the team of doctors tending her, both she and the baby were healthy.
In a way, she understood how anyone on the outside would believe her world was rosy. She had everything her heart could wish for...
Except a husband who loved her even a fraction as hopelessly as she loved him.
They arrived at the house. Her door opened and Raul helped her out. She smiled and stepped out. ‘Don’t worry about informing the palace. I’ll let them know when I get inside.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
She wanted to ask him to call her Jasmine. But protocol was protocol. She could go inside her little house, pretend she was at her flat in London for a while, but the palace, the Santo Sierran people who’d welcomed her wholeheartedly, and her absentee husband would still be her reality when she stepped out again.
Jasmine climbed the steps into the house and shut the door behind her. Ten minutes later, clutching a bowl of warm popcorn and a bottle of water, she plopped herself down in front of the TV and activated the chess game she’d started last week.
She was in the middle of checkmating GrandChessMaster231 when the door burst open.
Her heart somersaulted, then banged against her ribs. ‘Reyes!’
‘Do you know how long the staff have been looking for you?’ he burst out.
She rose on shaky feet, the unexpected sight of him rendering her senses stupid. ‘But I...Raul knew where I was. I told him...’ She stopped and grimaced.
‘You told him what?’ he demanded.
‘I told him not to bother telling the palace staff where I was because I would ring them. I forgot.’
He kicked the door shut and clawed both hands through his hair. ‘Raul discovered a slow puncture after he dropped you off so he went straight to the garage without stopping at the palace. The staff have been searching for you for the past four hours, Jasmine.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think... I just wanted to be on my own for a little while.’
He dropped his hands, took a good look around the room, before he zeroed in on her again. This time, his gaze travelled from her head to her toes and back again. His hands slowly curled and uncurled at his sides.
‘I’ve been told you spend a lot of time in here.’
She shrugged and considered sitting back down before her weak knees gave way. But sitting down would make Reyes’s presence more overwhelming. So she settled for propping herself on the armrest.
‘When did you get back?’
‘This afternoon.’
They stared at each other a full minute before she managed to tear her gaze away. ‘How was your trip?’
He scowled. ‘I don’t want to talk about my trip. Why have you not been sleeping in our bed?’
The bitter laugh escaped before she could stop it. ‘It’s not our bed, Reyes. I sleep in it alone, even when you’re in Santo Sierra...even when we’re under the same roof, I sleep alone. I’m sorry I worried the staff but you know where I am now, so you can go back to...wherever you came from.’
He looked stunned at her outburst. Jasmine wanted to laugh again, but she couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t emerge a sob.
She plopped herself down on the sofa and released the pause button.
After several minutes, he sat down beside her. Awareness of him crawled all over her body. But she didn’t dare look at him or she was afraid she’d beg him to stay. Beg him to love her. While she wasn’t afraid of begging, she was terrified of the rejection.
Was it her imagination or had he moved closer?
‘Jasmine, we need to talk.’
Her hands shook. ‘So talk.’
He shifted his gaze from her face to the screen. Or so she thought until his breath caressed her ear. ‘Can I make a wager, por favor?’ he asked, his tone rough.
‘Can I stop you?’
‘Ditch GrandChessMaster231. Play me. For every game I win, you stop and listen to me for three minutes.’
Her pulse tripped over itself. Her head started to turn, but she snapped her gaze back to the screen. ‘Okay.’
He beat her at the first game in less than five minutes.
‘What did you—’
His lips took hers. It was thorough, hungry, incandescent. Even as her mind reeled Jasmine’s lips clung to his, already desperate for the pleasure only he could provide. The pleasure she’d missed more than breathing. Her nerveless fingers let go when he tugged the control from her grasp and dropped it on the floor, all without taking his mouth from hers.
He pulled away from her, his breathing ragged. ‘I have two minutes remaining. Why do you not sleep in our bed, mi corazón?’ he rasped.
‘Because...because you’re not in it,’ she choked out. ‘It’s cold and lonely without you, and I can’t stand it.’
He nodded solemnly, then captured her lips in another scorching kiss. Freeing her when his time was up, he picked up the control and handed it back to her.
He won the next game, too. Another bone-melting kiss, followed by a long look into her eyes. ‘If I told you I missed you every day I was away from you, would you believe me?’ His voice was low, deep. Almost prayerful.
‘No.’
The hand in her hair trembled. ‘I deserve that. I know I’ve behaved badly, have approached things the wrong way—’
‘Your time’s up.’ She handed him his control.
She had burning questions of her own, so Jasmine put all her effort into winning the next level.
Her control fell from her fingers. ‘You scheduled sex with your other candidates. But you left me, your wife—’
‘My queen,’ he growled.
‘Your queen, to sleep in our marriage bed alone. Why? Am I so unlovable?’
He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second. ‘You are far from unlovable, querida. It was me. I was afraid.’
She looked at him, stunned. ‘Afraid of what?’
‘The