Page 88 of The King's Man 1

“One squirt!” This is... an entire bottle.

A ticklish giggle races through me along with another wave of heat. Air. I need air.

I dive for the exit but a sudden gust washes me back into the carriage. My feet crunch over glass and I fall back onto Quin’s bench. Onto hislap. Heoofsat my weight, possibly in pain since I landed on his leg, and his magic momentarily suspends the gale that’s sweeping away the spores in the air.

Frozen, I glance at him. His brows are slightly pushed together on an otherwise calm face; his hands swish and twist elegantly, controlling the wind.

He speaks drily as the wind dissipates. “If you’d let me do this from the start,” his gaze darts down, “you wouldn’t be in such a predicament.”

I leap off him. “I’ll just... find some cold water.”

Quin peeks out the window.

I dash for the exit again, and this time freeze at Quin’s command.

I face him. He’s untying his cloak, removing it. “There are people out there.”

I eye him and the crowds, then him again. “I’d rather people see!”

“The academy is close.”

Without warning, Quin sweeps me onto his lap and whips his cloak over me like a blanket. Using magic to aid his leg, he heaves to his feet, and I can feel the steady thump of his heart where I’m pressed tightly to his chest. “Comfortable?” he asks, voice infuriatingly steady, even as his hand clasps me mere inches from my predicament.

I swallow hard and force my focus anywhere but the warmth seeping from him to me. “Not in the slightest,” I growl, though I hope he can’t hear the pound of my own heart.

Stoic-faced, he alights from the carriage. A sudden wave of embarrassment has me ducking my flushed face against his neck, where others—and he—can’t see it. He carries me swiftly into his academy and orders a bath brought to his private room.

“With ice,” I croak.

“Lots of it,” Quin agrees.

As soon as we’re behind closed doors I leap off him and throw myself into an armchair in the far corner. “Worst gift ever, worst gift ever,” I chant under my breath.

“You’ll have to try again.”

I nod. “Forgive me.”

He leans against a windowsill, grimacing.

The bath arrives and is gradually filled—half water, half ice. A screen is placed between it and the windowed side of the room. I make quick work of undressing and lower myself with a hiss into the cold water. Thirty seconds should be enough.

I wait an extra ten.

When I get out, my clothes have been replaced with clean ones.

The fabric is a silky soft delight on my skin. They fit perfectly. Only my worn boots mar the distinguished look.

I emerge from behind the screen, admiring the light shirt and perfectly fitted leggings. “I could live in these clothes.”

Quin faces the view of the busy street and doesn’t look back. “Keep them.”

“That’s far too generous.”

“Then return them tomorr—”

“Generosity I’ll happily accept!” I say hurriedly.

He turns towards the doors. I follow him to the now-clean carriage, but as we travel, I can’t stop staring at the space where the vial fell. Quin, too, glances at it more than once.

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