The Gender Game 5 by Bella Forrest (top 5 books to read .TXT) 📗

be getting out of bed and helping out,” she chuckled, noting my hopeful expression. I let out a frustrated sigh and turned back toward the ceiling. Her hand stroked over my chest, pressing against my heart. “But I am sorry for scaring you like that. Honestly, I wanted you to be with me the entire time I was at the palace—I was so scared. But you know… You know I had to go.”

I did know that. It didn’t make me feel any better. It was irrational, but it was how I felt. I remained silent, but turned toward her a little so I could look at her face. She bit her lip. “You know I’m going to want to help. I’m in this fight, Viggo. I just can’t sit out for six weeks while my arm and head and ribs heal. But I also know I’m a liability right now. As far as missions go, I know I can’t participate.”

“Thank you,” I said, relief pouring out of me. Finally, she was being reasonable. Now if I could just…

“Hold your horses,” she said, and I halted. “I know you’re sitting there planning just how to give me jobs to keep me ‘busy’ and make me feel ‘useful,’ but can I remind you that when you were in my shoes, I never did that to you?”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it sullenly. Curse her and her damnable logic. Maybe I was being unfair to her, but it was who I was. Couldn’t she see that?

“I know being protective is just who you are. I don’t blame you, but you need to lighten up,” she said, and I wanted to groan at how well she knew me… and also knew just how to defuse me. “But on this, I can’t compromise. I can’t—I won’t—stop. This is just as much my fight as it is yours. We’re partners, remember?”

I sighed, more irritated by the fact she was right than anything else. My anger had already started to dissipate. “Why do I suddenly feel like women are getting too many rights in Patrus?” I grumbled.

Violet smacked me lightly on the chest, and I turned to take in her bemused smile, angling my body more fully into her, until we were face to face. I sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled, letting my anger and irritation go. But I needed to get out one more thing as well.

“I was so scared,” I admitted, my voice hoarse with raw emotion. “It was terrifying to see you in that bed. It wasn’t the same, but when Miriam was awaiting her sentence… every time I went to see her… it was the exact same feeling. I didn’t know how to help you.”

Violet’s smile melted, and her face grew sad with empathy. She reached up and cupped my cheek with her good hand, and I leaned into it, needing her touch. I hated feeling vulnerable around anyone except her. She was the only person in the world who could comfort me, and it was easy to let her. I loved her.

“Oh, Viggo,” she sighed. “If I could go back in time and change how it went down, I would.” She reached up and skimmed the bandage around her head with a rueful expression, and then snatched her hand back as soon as she stroked over the stubble. “Believe me, I would.”

I chuckled. “To save your hair?”

She shook her head, a crooked smile on her face. “To spare you this pain, for one thing,” she said softly. “And to figure out what happened to Tim… I know you won’t give up looking for him. He’s as much your little brother as my own. Just… Just don’t leave me out of this. I couldn’t bear it.”

My heart broke for her as I took in the pain that brimmed in her eyes and turned her lips down, and I reached out and grabbed her chin. “I would never do that,” I said softly. “I would never leave you out of this, and I promise to keep you in the loop. But you have to promise to take it easy, and tell me when things are getting to be too much for you, okay? You’re not being a burden when you do, so promise me.”

Violet gave a halfhearted smile and nodded. “I promise,” she whispered. Her gray gaze flicked down. “Thank you,” she said.

I smiled at her, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “Of course, baby. I love you. Not to mention… you’re going to be my wife soon.”

She smirked at me and raised her left hand, showing me her bare fingers. “I don’t see a ring here, do you?” she teased.

I snorted and leaned in closer to her, loving the cheerful sound back in her voice, my focus entirely on her lips. “As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go ring shopping,” I whispered against them. “Or looting, or robbing, or…” Whatever else I was going to say was lost as she closed the tiny gap between us, pressing her lips to mine.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her how I felt when she’d come into the room upright and lucid; I had tried to tell her in words in our argument, but everything had kept coming out jumbled and wrong somehow, overprotective, angry. So I tried to tell her now, with my lips, something I was unable to put into words. Slowly, softly, we tasted each other for the first time in what felt like years. I was incredibly delicate, and I took my time, enjoying the soft little murmur of pleasure she let out against my lips, the way her mouth pressed harder into mine, trying to get a reaction out of me.

There was no way we were doing anything more than this gentle kiss when she was so injured, but parts of me that had been silent, crushed under the weight of sleeplessness and constant worry for our lives, came awake at even this