Page 52 of Married By Treachery

Raquel took his statement as a direct challenge, and she approached the desk, persuaded by forces and feelings she did not quite understand. Perhaps she was simply weary of this game, of this war between them—the war withinherself—and she needed to quiet that persistent whisper once and for all.

Or make it sing.

Jake’s gaze narrowed, and he stood perfectly, inhumanly still as she rounded the desk. In fact, he didn’t seem to breathe. She stopped before him, close enough that if she stood on her toes and tipped her chin, their lips would touch, but she did not. She simply stood there glaring at him, as if to stare out Dream Jake once and for all.

“And you’re a liar,” she said.

His eyes were huge and dark as they stared into hers. “I cannot lie, my bride.”

“You have lied so well and for so long that you can’t even recognize truth anymore.”

He frowned, and his gaze moved between her eyes. “It’s your dream, isn’t it? It’s making you persist in seeing things that are not there.”

Raquel had the strangest suspicion that those words weren’t just for her, but that they were for him too. “Then kiss me,” she said in that slip of space between them.

Jake stilled. Everything about him stilled as he continued to stare at her. Desire suddenly flared in his eyes, and his gaze flickered to her lips. “I thought you would not bargain for kisses.” His words were a feather upon her lips.

“This is no bargain, my prince.” She tipped her face closer, and his eyes devoured her. “Kiss me, and tell me you feel nothing. Hold my face in your hands, look into my eyes, and tell me that you could never love—”

Jake crushed his mouth to hers, stopping her words.

Raquel was shocked at first, but then Jake moved his now-free hand to her chin and cupped it as he kissed her back against the desk.

And Raquel felt her heart melting.

If she’d been enchanted by his kiss in her dream, it wasnothingcompared to the real thing. Nothing compared to the real hunger in his lips, the way they took and gave and clung, and her dreams did not come close to capturing the soft warmth of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth, searching and coaxing. Drawing her out, drawing her to him. His breath had tasted sweet in her dream, and it tasted sweet now, but there was a fever in it that her dream could never bring—a heat that spread a very real fire through her belly and tingled down her legs, and her body arched into his on its own accord, and Jake moaned against her mouth.

“Tell me I mean nothing to you,” she said against his lips. “That this is just a game.”

Jake tried to kiss her again, but she tilted her head back further and looked into his dark and ravenous eyes.

“Tell me,” she persisted.

A half groan, half growl sounded deep in his throat, and in answer, he let go of her wrists, slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her tight against his own body as his lips claimed hers again.

This time, Raquel couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him, and for a split second, her senses flickered between present and dream. Between the real and currentnowand those moments she had seen in her sleep, with the two of them before the fire. They were completely separate moments, yet they were the same, simultaneously then and now, both planes playing out together, but apart. Amplified, almost, because of it.

And now that Raquel’s hands were free, she let them search. She combed through his dark and gloriously thick hair that was even silkier than she’d imagined, and then she slid her palms down his back, feeling the muscles tense and shift as he held her, kissed her. He grabbed her waist, lifted and set her firmly upon the desk, then pushed himself closer, into the fabric of her skirts so that he was standing between her legs, and he kissed her deeply.

Raquel knew that she was falling down a well she could never climb out of if she didn’t stop this now.

Especially as his hands squeezed down her legs and slipped beneath her skirts, lifting them higher.

And higher.

Raquel grabbed his hands and held them firmly, stopping him, her heart near exploding in her chest. “Tell me you feel nothing, my prince,” she demanded.

Jake dragged his lips from her neck and gazed up at her. His pupils were huge, his breath quick, but he did not speak.

“You say you cannot lie, so tell me thatIam just a game for you.” She squeezed his hands and brought them to her breast. “That this is nothing but a temporary win amidst a long game of losses. Tell me we have no future, that there is no family. That this is nothing more than a simple diversion to pass your time.”

Jake didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe. His lips parted, and then someone started clapping.

Raquel and Jake both turned their heads to the sound, where a bear of a man stood just inside the doorway, surrounded by dozens of armed Forest kith. It was Prince Edom—therealPrince Edom—and though she had never laid eyes on him, she knew it was him because he lookedexactlyhow Jake had appeared while wearing that glamoured cape. In that look—in that one prolonged glance—she knew that even if Jake were wearing the glamoured coat and standing right beside his brother, she would know them apart. If she had thought Jake callous and unfeeling, it paled in comparison to the cold emptiness in Edom’s black gaze. He truly was a brute, a wild animal in human form, driven by cold purpose and an insatiable hunger for power.

It was little wonder Jake and his mother had lost faith in Edom’s ability to break the curse.

This was the man from her dreams who had pushed Jake away from the palace. The one who had tortured animals for sport and left them to die.

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