Page 12 of Vows to a King
“What are you doing?” she whispered, the dark, delicious oceans and forest scent of him coiling around her like a sensuous leash. God, the man was a master at upending her hard-fought-for composure. Even knowing that this was an act for the benefit of their eager audience, she felt like a giddy teenager meeting her celebrity boy band crush.
That lush lower lip of his stretched in a smile she wanted to touch and smudge with her finger. Stamp it with her touch. “Going to my knees for you, Princess. Something I forgot to do yesterday evening.”
A thousand butterflies flapped their wings in her belly. Not grinning like a silly fool was the hardest thing she’d ever accomplished. “There are no cameras here, Prince Adonis. All this playacting amounts to nothing.”
“You know better than me,” he said, as one shoulder rose in a fluid movement to gesture behind him, “that in all of Thalassos, no one gossips more than the bunch of old men behind me. In two hours, the whole world will know that you’re to be mine.”
A grin she didn’t want to give up danced on her lips. “Why do I have a feeling you’re creating a spectacle out of this, mocking me even?”
The harsh slashes of his brows met. “Mocking you? No, Princess. I simply wish to ensure the world, starting with these power-hungry vultures, knows that you’re my choice. Not a hand-me-down from my brother. I thought you would appreciate that too.”
Some dark, hungry thing inside her that she had stifled for so long found solace in his words.
Jemima searched his eyes, but the bitter edge she heard in his words didn’t taint them. The more he infused that laid-back charm into his words, the more she was beginning to realize the topic mattered to him.
He didn’t like that Adamos had had a prior claim on her, as trivial as it had been. The realization made her heart stutter in her chest. Why did it matter when it was nothing but a convenient arrangement between them?
“Come, Princess.” A cajoling note entered his tone, but something hungrier dwelled there too. Or she was already going mad, imagining things that didn’t exist. “Don’t back out on me now.”
She laid her hand in his and his fingers closed in a tight grip. Every inch of her being hovered hungrily at that place of contact. Giving in to the wanton urging of her flesh, she leaned in and rested her forehead against his shoulder. Her heart felt too big for her chest at her daring.
And for all his disheveled appearance, he smelled like fresh soap and…clean male sweat that she wanted to drown in.
If the sudden intimacy she took shocked him, he didn’t show it. If anything, he pressed into the contact, his broad shoulders both a shield and a cocoon. His fingers tightened with a possessiveness she desperately wanted to believe in.
For the first time in weeks, or was it years, Jemima felt a moment’s pure, utter peace. With hot, honeyed longings pulsing beneath.
“I don’t want to have this conversation in front of so many curious eyes and prying ears,” she said, looking up into his stunning face. This close, the tiny scar near his upper lip was visible—a tiny imperfection in a landscape of perfection. “Most of whom wish for us to fail in a spectacular fashion.”
A ferocious emotion dawned in his eyes, making them glitter. “I will not stand for any of them cowing you, Jemima. You should know that if you’re to be my wife.”
Her heart thumped against her rib cage.
Mine. My wife…
He made their association sound so much more than purely political and convenient. If he continued to talk about her like that, she was going to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet soon. And her poor, naive heart would surely take a beating too.
She pulled back and stared into the blue depths. “I’m more than glad to accept your support, Adonis. But I refuse to perform any part of our relationship that’s already going to be for public consumption, for anyone. And definitely not the damned crown council or my father.”
His answering grin was the very definition of delight. Because her little statement of rebellion pleased him?
She squealed like a scared bunny when he went from stillness to motion like a sudden flash of thunder. A spurt of childish—and utterly flippant laughter escaped her as he pulled her to her feet and dragged her along, past so many pairs of scandalized eyes, into a landing that cut off into corridors leading to different wings of the palace.
Her chest was still heaving when he pushed her against the wall, caging her with his lean body, but not quite touching. “Thank the lord there’s no dreary, draconic Vasilikos ancestor scowling down at us here,” he murmured lazily.
Far above her, the generous May sun cast a warm, golden glow that filtered through intricately designed stained-glass windows, scattering into vibrant patterns of reds, blues, and greens.
She stared up in awe as the brilliant light created a kaleidoscope effect around the Prince’s head, as if anointing him with its rich blessing. As if this was how it was supposed to be.
Adonis returned her stare, his gaze lingering on her smile. “You are not reconsidering this, are you?”
“No.” Something about interacting with this man made her feel like she was splayed open under a microscope. Like things she didn’t know she wanted were being drawn out of her by some secret sorcery he wielded. “But I have some conditions for this…marriage. That we have to agree on,” she added.
He nodded. “I do too.” His hand came up to her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek in a feathery caress. “And I had the best time dreaming them up last night.”
Molten heat uncoiled low in her belly at his teasing tone. “This is serious, Prince Adonis,” she said, sounding like a strict schoolteacher. It was the only defense she had against how easily he unraveled her.
“Of course, it’s serious.” He pulled back and air rushed into her lungs. “I would never think of producing the next heir to the mighty kingdom of Thalassos as a joking matter.”
