Page 44 of Royal Resistance

“Dude! Don’t ask that!”

“Have you kissed your wife, Mag? Seriously, kissed. Like… really kissed?”

I don’t know which of us is more uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has taken.

“Of course I’ve kissed her.”

Duncan gives me the intense look he uses for book covers. I do not find it attractive. “Really.”

“You saw us kiss.”

“At the wedding… That’s it. That’s the only time? Nothing more?”

I look at him like I did the time he had a sore throat before a show and suggested Benny take over lead vocals for the night. “No,” I say in a flat voice.

“Then what’s the problem?” he bursts out. “Mag! What…? Don’t you like her?”

“Of course I like her.”

Of course I like her. I like that she’s smart and competent, and always knows the right thing to say. I like her sense of humour and how it’s slow to start, but how her laugh is contagious when she finds something really funny.

I like the way her blonde hair swings past her shoulders and how her lips form a tiny bow.

I like her so much, I find it difficult to think about anything but the ways I like her.

“Are you attracted to her?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, I am. It’s just… I haven’t wanted to rush her.”

“Ever think that she might want to be rushed?”

That possibility has actually never crossed my mind.

I shrug. I’m not proud of my lack of… I’m not sure what to call it. My lack of physical affection between me and Selene. Lack of action, to sound like a man.

Selene is my wife. My queen. My Viking descendants wouldn’t have waited like I do. I know I have rights… but I also have respect.

I want Selene to want me, more than just for the crown on my head.

I want her to want the man as well.

I can wait for that. “I didn’t want to rush things,” I protest.

“You’ve been married for weeks! A month.”

“And I’m basically still a stranger to her.”

“Who is now her husband. You’ve known her for over six weeks. Even if you were just dating, things would have progressed farther than… this.”

“How would you know? When’s the last time you dated?”

“Tuesday night.”

“Tuesday—what? When? What Tuesday?”

“The day before Wednesday. Two days ago.”

My mouth drops. How did I not know this? “Really? Who?”