“Yes. We can’t work together if I have to wonder what you’re thinking about all the time.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want.” His voice was wavering between teasing and intensely serious. “Is it, Aislinn? Is that what you truly want of me? You want my total honesty?”

She felt like she was walking into a trap, but backing down was not the right approach if she was to be his equal. She forced herself to look him in the eye as she said, “It is.”

He leaned back and took a sip of his water, watching her as he did so. “Well, so you don’t need to wonder…I was thinking—just now—that sometimes we get so caught up in the court stuff, Donia, Niall, your classes…It’s easy to forget that nothing I have would be mine were it not for you, but it’s never easy to forget that I still want more.”

She blushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Soyou’re going to play word games now?” There was no denying the challenge in his voice this time. “You can decide when my honesty is welcome?”

“No, but—”

“You said you wanted to know what I’m thinking; there weren’t conditions. No word games, Aislinn. Your choice.” He sat his glass on the table and waited for several heartbeats. “Have you changed your mind so easily? Would you prefer we have secrets or not?”

Aislinn felt the edge of terror approach her, not in fear of physical safety, but in fear that the friendship they’d been building was tumbling around her.

When she didn’t speak, he went on. “I was thinking that no one else could’ve handledany of the things you have. Even adjusting to being fey…Not one of the Summer Girls adjusted so quickly. You didn’t mourn or rage or cling to me.”

“I knew about faeries. They didn’t,” she protested. She hated the faery inability to lie more and more as he spoke. It would be easier to lie and deny how painlessly she had become fey. It would be easier to say that she wasn’t adjusting to her new life far faster than she’d ever thought. It would be easier to say she was struggling.

Because then he wouldn’t be doing this to me.

He’d given her space, given her time. He’d been a friend and not even approached the boundaries she’d set.

Run. Run now.

She didn’t.

And Keenan moved closer, invading her space. “You know it’s more than that. Iknow now that it was right that I didn’t find my queen all these years. Waiting for you was worth everything that I thought I couldn’t endure.”

He had a hand in her hair now; sunlight slid down her skin.

“If you were my queen,truly my queen, our court would be stronger still. If you were mine, without mortal distractions, we’d be safer. We’d be stronger if we were truly together. Summer is a time to rejoice in pleasures and heat. When I’m around you, I want to forget everything else. I love Donia. I always will, but when I’m near you—” He stopped himself.

She knew what he was not-saying. She felt the truth of it, but that part of her wasn’t something to give over to her court’s health. Had he known they’d feel this way? Had he known that her insistence on approaching queenship as a job and not a relationship was going to limit their court’s growth? She didn’t want to know the answer.

“The court is stronger than it’s ever been in your lifetime,” she murmured.

“It is, and I’m grateful for what you’ve given our court. I’ll wait as long as I must for the rest. That’s what I’m thinking about. I suppose I should be thinking about the list of things we have to do, but”—he leaned closer, holding her gaze—“all I can think right now is that you’re here with me where you belong. I do love Donia, but I love my court too. I could love you as we’re meant to love one another, Aislinn. If you’d let me, I could love you enough that we’d forget everything but each other.”

“Keenan…”

“You asked for honesty.”

He wasn’t lying. He couldn’t.It doesn’t matter. His telling her these things didn’t, couldn’t matter.

Aislinn could feel the sunlight that lived somewhere in the center of her. It stretched out to fill her skin to bursting. She was responding to Keenan’s brief touch with an intensity that she’d felt only with Seth—which was wrong.

Is it?A traitorous voice whispered inside her.He’s my king, my partner….

She put a hand on Keenan’s chest, intending to push him away, but sunlight pulsed between them at the contact. Their bodies were a giant conduit; sunlight looped between them like a stream of energy that grew stronger as it slipped through the barrier of skin.

His eyes widened, and he drew several unsteady breaths. He leaned toward her, and she felt herself leaning into him. Her arm was bent at the elbow so that—although she still had a hand on him as if to push him back—they were chest to chest, her arm pressed between them.

And he kissed her, something he’d only done when she was mortal. Once, she had been lost under the dizziness of too much summer wine and too many hours dancing in his arms. The second time was a taste of seduction when she was telling him to leave her alone. But this time, the third time, he kissed her so gently that it was barely a brush of lips. It was a question as much as a kiss. It was affection, and somehow that made it worse.

She pulled away. “Stop.”

Her word wasn’t much beyond a whisper, but he still paused. “Are you sure?”

She couldn’t answer.No lying. She could taste the ripeness of summer in the words, a promise of what she could have if she came just a moment closer.

“I need you to move back.” She concentrated on the meaning of those words, on the feel of the sofa, on the spines of the leather-bound books she could see on the wall behind Keenan—on anything but him.

She lowered her hand from his chest.

Slowly. Just concentrate on what matters. My life. My choices. Seth.