Page 141 of Shadows and Roses

Nothing she said helped. He had clasped his hands behind his back and took an almost soldierly stance, except for his lowered head, staring at the ground.

She extended her fingers out to him, palm up. "Castien. Look at me. Please."

His gaze locked onto hers in a single, instant sweep as though he could not bear to look away. The uncertainty in his eyes did nothing to hide the dark intensity lurking beneath. His eyes didn't want to run. No, she could see his burning desire to touch every inch of her body, to claim her.

How long had he stood in this room, hovering over her bed, fists clenched at his side or behind his back? He wouldn't have touched her while she slept. Not with that fragile doubt in his eyes.

"Castien. I love you, too. I didn't hallucinate that bit, did I?" It was a hazy memory, but she could see his face right over hers,desperate and in tears.

"No," he whispered as he hesitantly grazed her claws, then brushed her fingertips. "But… You don’t know what I’ve been doing."

She stopped herself from grabbing his hand and pulling him in. "Yes, I do," she said gently. "Perhaps not everything, but people talk, and my Escorts kept an eye on you. You've been… a courtesan."

His hand fell away. This time, she stretched and lightly grasped the tips of his fingers. He didn't pull back. She sighed. "I meant— You did what you were trained to do. You’re not at fault for that.”

He shook his head. “And for ignoring you?”

“We’re both at fault there. I thought I was giving you space.”

"You shouldn’t forgive me so easily," he whispered.

"You needed time. Everyone heals differently. Some never do. I didn't mind giving you time. I know how to wait. And I will wait as long as you need me to." She told herself she should let go of his hand, let him choose, but his fingers were warm and she was tired.

A slow, silent minute passed. She closed her eyes and laid back on the pillows, gently tugging him closer. When he didn't resist, she smiled and sighed. When his weight settled on the bed, she turned to gaze up at him.

"I thought, you and Damon…" His lips thinned. "It’s not important."

She winced. "He was charming, friendly, arrogant but gracious. He was exactly the leader I wanted. Too perfect. I trusted him, foolishly, but I didn't love him."

"I thought you were just toying with me, with the Consort’s ring, that you didn’t want me. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?" His thumb was so,so lightly stroking her fingers.

"I want you. I want every moment with you." She almost offered the Consort’s ring again but stopped herself. Not yet. Scaring him away again wouldn’t help anyone.

"Despite how much of a complete ass I made of myself?"

She chuckled. "I particularly enjoy your ass. And no, you didn’t, Castien. Besides, you saved my life. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

He gave her the hint of a smile. "I love you," he whispered.

She kissed his hand. "I love you."

His lidded eyes were focused on her lips, his hand closing around hers.

"I don't want more time. I want you." He leaned down, watching her, lips firmly claiming her mouth, both hands stretching her arms above her head. She groaned, arching her chest toward him.

A light tap on the door and a pointed cough made him growl. She grinned but nudged him until he slowly peeled himself off of her, hands running down her arms, through her hair, a feather-light finger across her cheek.

"My Queen. You should rest," a stern voice said. One of her overprotective healers.

Anais rolled her eyes, enticing a small smile onto Castien’s lips. He stood and bowed. "I'm starving. No dying before I get back, yes?"

"She's fine," the healer grumbled, approaching the other side of the bed. "It was just an overdose of a sleeping draught made stronger by alcohol. She needs rest, food, and no one aggravating her." He glared at Castien with the last few words.

The courtesan blinked innocently. "I’m not aggravating. Am I aggravating, my Queen?"

"Extremely," she murmured.

With a hand pressed to his heart and a dramatically pained expression, Castien walked out of the room.

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