Page 20 of Vows to a King
And Jemima knew, whether she willed it or not, that more of her walls were coming down for this gorgeous man, whose outward beauty was the least interesting thing about him.
Adonis Vasilikos, she was realizing, was capable of feeling with more depth than she’d ever thought possible. More than he would ever allow his mask to betray.
* * *
Adonis looked at the documents on the tablet in his lap, the letters and numbers jumbling in front of him, as usual. Stress only made matters worse and it was all he’d been drinking for more than two weeks now.
At least, the afternoon event at a luncheon auction for a charity that Jemima was on the board of—education for girls from underprivileged backgrounds of course, because his fiancée was a bloody saint—hadn’t involved reading out the shitty draft of a speech someone had written for him, with no attention to his personality or principles.
Meeting the other board members who had been women from all walks of life, giving out awards and announcing scholarships for the new academic year, meeting teenage girls with stars in their eyes—it had been one of the few public outings as the King-to-be that he had thoroughly enjoyed. The afternoon had made him feel like there was a greater purpose to the roller coaster he’d willingly jumped on. Even made his constant doubts that he would not let his father be proved right, worth it.
And he knew most of it was due to the woman he found equally fascinating and frustrating. Fascinating because he had never met anyone so brutally honest with themselves—except himself perhaps, and frustrating because she so easily snuck under his skin.
He hadn’t meant to exact some kind of petty revenge for the distrust she’d shown him. She, and her indirect insults, should fall off like water over rocks, for he had already decided that she meant nothing to him in the grand scheme of things.
And yet he had exacted revenge and thrust his own lance into her—especially when she’d made herself vulnerable to him by admitting to wanting him. She had sounded so adorably baffled by the whole thing even.
He could see too, how much it cost her, how hard she was trying to emerge from the cocoon her father had forcibly wrapped around her.
He didn’t know how to shut off the admiration, for in her case, it led him to feeling and wanting more.
“Thank you for picking the charity gala as our first outing together,” Jemima said, from the opposite seat on the limo. Her fingers clasped in her lap, her face shining with damp sweat, her hair already falling apart from the knot, she looked…good enough to devour. Through the event, she had been in her true element, always ready with a kind word and a helping hand, calling forth a hundred details from that brain at a moment’s notice.
She’d been like a butterfly, flitting from table to table, and all he’d wanted was to catch her for himself.
He could pull her into his lap now, lift that alluring dress, and test for himself what she’d so boldly declared earlier. And then he would plunge his fingers into her waiting sheath and let her see how real and bloody uncommon this kind of pull was.
“No need to thank me, Princess,” he said, burying his fantasy under a bored tone.
“The board members couldn’t believe they got to meet you.” Jemima went on as if he hadn’t sprayed cold water on her enthusiasm. “I think you charmed the pants off Mrs. Skyros, eighty-six years old as she is. Many of them told me it was the thrill of a lifetime to meet you.”
“I didn’t—” Adonis began.
“You did. I checked with both our secretaries and the palace PR team and the media team. They all said it was your choice to make this our first outing. That snooty aide Mr. Kairos even said that he informed you that this charity wasn’t high-profile enough and that you shot them down.”
Damned minx!
“If you want to give me a crown for it, Princess, join the queue.”
A fierce frown pulled her brows together as she scooted forward on her seat, her eyes full of reproach. “I wish you didn’t do that.”
“Do what?” he said, coming to recognize the bloodthirsty glint.
“Make light of what is good about you.” Her words were a soft whisper that nonetheless landed like harsh rocks against his flesh. “Make what you do for others sound like an afterthought or an excuse or a game.”
“If you want relief from the wet panty problem, you could simply ask me, Jemima, and I might oblige. There’s no need to sing my praises.”
Dark pink streaked her high, round cheeks and the tip of her tongue swept over her lip.As if, for just a second, she was actually considering his filthy suggestion. His blood pumped with renewed lust, and something much deeper.
If he wasn’t careful, the perceptive minx would get too close to the pulsing, resentful center of him and then there would be nothing to do but drown her in his pain too. And for some reason, when it came to her and only her, Adonis felt the least destructive he had in his entire life.
“I will admit, the offer is far too tempting.” She gasped, as if the words had come out without her permission. The amber of her eyes glittered with naked want. A sigh lifted her lush breasts. And just like that, she was all seriousness again. “I’m trying to understand you, Prince Adonis.”
“Why?” The question came bursting from the depths of him, for no one had ever tried much less admitted to it.
“How else will I know you? I already made the mistake of thinking you were just your reputation. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Maybe I’m not solely my reputation, but there isn’t much else.”
