Page 163 of Powerless

She gives me a sly smile. “I like to think of it as keeping you on your toes, prince.”

“Yes, because life is far more entertaining when you aren’t expecting a knife to the throat or a shoe to the face.” My gaze drops to said shoe still clutched in her hand. “Speaking of which, still planning to use that on me?”

“Still deciding.”

The smile I give her is a real one, a rarity that has recently become a rather common occurrence when I’m in her presence. She turns her head to nod at the tray on my bed. “You brought me food.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And how do you know that’s not for me?”

“There are blueberries on the porridge, Azer.”

Still wanting to play with her, I shrug. “After rambling about the fruit, you convinced me of how delicious they are.”

She outright laughs at that. “Then that would mean you’re admitting I was right, and that is highly unlikely.”

“You know me so well,” I sigh, smiling at her. “Of course the food is for you. I wouldn’t touch that porridge.”

A smile tugs at her lips. “Picky prince.”

“Clever Pae.”

We stare at one another, each of us smiling slightly.

My eyes drop to her free hand still clutching a blanket around her shoulders, pulling it tighter when my gaze sweeps over her. “Are you cold?”

She stiffens slightly. “No.”

“Then what is this?” I’m eying the blanket before my fingers graze over hers, the ones still fiercely fisted in the folds of fabric. Her gaze trails from my face to my hand that is now trailing over her knuckles, her wrist, her fist and the fabric in it.

The way her breath hitches has my heart halting. “It’s a blanket.”

My laugh is quiet. “I can see that, smartass.”

My fingers lazily brush down her arm, though the movement has my mind stalling, pulse skipping. Every touch is intoxicating, every look shared is entrancing.

“You look flushed, Gray.” My fingers catch a strand of long hair falling over her shoulder. “Probably thanks to the blanket.” I can feel the smirk spreading across my face as I say, “Unless I’m the reason for your blush.”

I watch the emotions flit across her face. First, there is something akin to what I’m sure is reflected in my own gaze—wanting. Then she blinks, and I glimpse shock, realization, and denial before she settles with annoyance.

“No, I’m definitely just overheating.” She’s confident as ever despite the strain in her voice.

I tilt my head, eyes dancing between the blanket and her cool gaze. “Then I suppose I’ll help you once again, only this time it will be a blanket dropping to the floor and not your dress nearly doing the same.”

I smile at the thought of the last ball, but before my fingers can close around hers, she lets the blanket billow down around her ankles.

She’s standing so close to me, wearing nothing but skimpy shorts and a silky tank. Teasing me, taunting me, toying with me. I hadn’t been able to see the black fabric clinging to her body last night, blending in with the darkness around us. But now I can see it, see her, clearly.

There is a fire in her eyes, burning and breathtaking. “Just to be clear, prince, I don’t need your help—undressing or otherwise.”

“Oh, of course not. Wishful thinking, I suppose.”

She huffs out a laugh. “And are you unable to help being a shameless flirt as well?”

“Apparently not when I’m with you.”

“Oh? And what else are you when you’re around me, hmm?”

She has me swallowing, has menervous. “I’m a fool.”

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