Any Price by Gail Faulkner Page A

Lore in the room. They stared at each other a long moment after Thomas left. Complete privacy was a shock. It had come so abruptly and been so long awaited. Lore felt unprepared for the relief of it but harshly aware of his urgent need to touch her. Unable to quiet that craving, he was at the same moment determined not to rush her.
    He’d closed the conversation with Gregory in response to the spike of fear he’d felt in her. She wasn’t ready for what he needed, but there was no escaping it either. Lore looked away. Glancing at the closet then back at her, he smiled. “I see you made yourself comfortable,” his low voice growled. She was in his clothes. He liked that. In the past, he’d never liked it when a woman put on his clothes. Everything about Kenna was different.
    “It felt like the right thing to do, your highness,” she answered softly.
    Lore’s eyebrows rose at her use of his title. “Feeling the need for distance?” As he spoke, he moved away from her to the bed and started removing his period costume.
    “Feeling a lot of things and all of them are insane. I’m a mess,” she answered honestly, but didn’t look away from him as a stranger might as he began removing clothes.
    He concentrated on getting out of the costume for a few seconds. When he’d managed to remove all except the tights, he glanced at her before turning to the closet. “I’ll be right back.”
    This intimate connection was a bastard to deal with. Not strangers, not lovers, so wrapped around each other it was hard to tell where he ended and she started.
    Undressing with her in the room underlined the intimate relationship. Moving away from her to do it, letting her feel that she had choices was all the space he could give her. She wasn’t ready to plunge into a physical relationship. He wasn’t able to let her stay out of one. Beyond that, he suspected the nature of her needs wouldn’t allow her that freedom either. The converging pressures were immense and unrelenting.
    In the closet, Lore hissed a curse, pausing to gather control. He was driven to establish his claim on her. She felt the same pull but fought it hard. Her morals, her lifelong views of self-respect and the intimacy of a sexual relationship not being casual were wearing her out. Knowing she was tired of the battle and yet unable to give it up made him ache. His recurring urge to remove her pain was difficult to contain.
    Going in the closet was supposed to help him resist the impulse to free her of her internal battles by simply taking charge again. She wouldn’t have resisted him but nor would he be able to say she had chosen to be with him. She could never doubt that her body had been surrounded willingly.
    He’d always been a dominant male in his personal life, but this was more. He wasn’t sure if it was more because she was incapable of hiding her struggles from him or because of the rapid changes they were experiencing. His natural instinct to manage her pain and fear was not comfortable for either of them.
    Kenna closed her eyes as his fine backside disappeared. Have mercy. The man was handsome and built like living rock. All hard muscles and flexing strength, though if he clenched his jaw any tighter, it’d break. What did he do? Spend all his free time in a gym?
    “I train what little military we have,” he answered calmly, reappearing in jeans and pulling on a t-shirt. “Three times a week. You’re not really interested in this, are you?”
    “I didn’t send the question. I thought it to myself.” Kenna didn’t move as she voiced the disturbing fact.
    Lore stopped in front of her, hands resting on lean hips as he regarded her half-reclining form on the couch. “We’ve been getting better at communication.” He frowned slightly as he tried to be nonchalant about hearing her thoughts.
    “Better is not the term I’d use for it.” A surreal cold enveloped her.
    Now that she knew others could feel her, she wasn’t sure how much they