Page 39 of Vows to a King
Jemima had hoped he would notice how the pink complemented her coloring. And Adonis always delivered. “What law?” she said past the breathy anticipation that inflated inside of her.
The familiar scent of cedar and rain enveloped her and she gave herself over—body and mind, into his capable hands, wrapping her arms around his neck like tentacles. Clinging to him like Zayn did when it was time to bid good-night.
His broad palm spread over her lower back, the tips reaching her buttocks. “No overworking for my queen. And if she continues in this way, I’ll say off with the heads of the staff that supply her with it.”
When she scoffed and refused to meet his eyes, his words turned stern. “I’m not joking, Jemima. The reports I receive from your aides every evening of how much paperwork you’ve gone through that day, making notes for me…even the puffed-up staff is awed by you. You work too much.”
“I like working. I like being useful and…proving my worth to you,” she said, the words flying off her lips. Still, she refused to meet his eyes. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she reveled in the steady beat of his heart.
A sudden realization—one that she had been fighting for days now, burst into her awareness, flooding her with a sudden onslaught of emotion. Burrowing closer, she shuddered in its wake.
Instantly, Adonis’s arm tightened around her waist while the other tipped her chin up to study her. His blue eyes dug into hers, as if he meant to see to her soul. And what would he find there but her growing…regard for him, she thought tremulously. “You have nothing to prove to me or Thalassos or your bloody father, Jem. I wish…” Frustration rippled through his lean body. “I could make you see yourself through my eyes.”
She opened her eyes and met his then, desperate to see a fraction of what she felt for him reflected in the blue depths.
“What?” he said, aware of the tiniest shifts in her mood.
“You look…happy today,” she said, pulling out of his arms. Not knowing why she was pushing aside the confession she needed to make.
Suddenly, she had a feeling that everything he had given her, everything she had with him wasn’t enough. She was the bloody Queen of Thalassos, wife to the Devil Prince and yet she wanted more. She wanted the one thing she might not get…his undying love. The deep care and connection that she was beginning to see he was capable of.
She wanted to be his most dangerous risk and his most fulfilling reward. And she wanted this gorgeous, wonderful man to be hers, completely.
“I do have some good news,” he said, pulling her toward the private terrace.
Summer nights in Thalassos were near-magical, with gentle breezes blowing in from the ocean, providing a welcome relief from the heat of the day. At this particular terrace which was her favorite relaxing spot at the end of a long day, the intoxicating scents of jasmine and lavender rose up from the palace garden, heavily scenting the air, while the view of the city with its whitewashed buildings and open-air markets rooted her to the place.
It was only now, with this man beside her changing her very outlook, that Jemima realized how much her father’s dictates, and Adamos’s apathy, had turned this paradise into prison. And with the foundation Adonis provided, how much she loved Thalassos.
“I have some news too,” she said, jumping into the fray.
His eyes flared in anticipation.
Clasping his jaw, she said, “But you go first.”
“I don’t have the documents in hand to give this moment the dramatics it deserves,” he said, pulling her into his lap on the chaise longue. Enveloped by his muscled warmth and masculine scent, she sank into him.
His tongue traced the shell of her ear, revving her up like a virtuoso tuning his instrument for a masterful performance. “I have a feeling you’re going to want to show your gratitude in a very effusive way, Princess.”
Her heart twisted in her chest, spewing words she couldn’t say. She settled for what was clear between them. “I think you know, Adonis,” she said, burying her face in the warm cavern of his neck, every cell in her wanting to burrow into him, creating a nest for herself deep in his heart, “that I would do anything to satisfy you in that arena. You only have to command me.”
Under her thighs, he rolled forward and back with a groan. His shaft turned rock-hard and her core pulsed emptily. “I don’t like the caveat ‘in that arena’, Jem.” Pure arrogance filled his tone before he let out a self-deprecating laugh. “But we will deal with that later. This afternoon, I met with your father and asked him to sign over Zayn’s custody to you.”
Jemima shot up so fast in his lap that she bumped her head hard against his chin. “You shouldn’t have.” Tears piled in her eyes, fueled by panic. “What…what did he say?”
“He insisted that I take custody of Zayn and he had a price for it.” Utter disgust filled Adonis’s voice. “And I paid it.”
“Was it…” Jemima had to swallow past the hard lump in her throat. Only being caught between the solid strength of his thighs stopped her knees from buckling completely. “I’m afraid to ask what it is.”
As if he knew where her fear dwelled, he patted her belly in soothing strokes. “It’s between him and me. You don’t need to worry about it, Jem. Remember that Zayn is ours now. And believe me when I say I have plans to strip everything from him.”
“No, Adonis,” she said, gripping his chin. “Don’t—”
“I didn’t think you weak enough to hold affection for a bully, Jem.” There was not an inch of give in his words and she wondered if he was talking about his father too. If he finally gave up on King Aristos and cut the last thread of bond connecting them, would he be stronger and healthier for it? Or would that part of him that loved his father forever be cauterized, leaving him unable to love anyone again?
The conundrum made fear spike through her.
“Jemima?”
