Page 29 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

So the infamous Dark Lord was also a messy academic. With boundary issues. And flawless bone structure.

Kazimir leaned against the bed’s tall post, arms folded over his chest. A lock of hair tumbled over his eyebrow from our earlier embrace, giving him a slightly disheveled look. “Not enough skulls for you?”

I shrugged. “I expected more. Maybe a throne of rib cages in the corner?”

“That’s in the Chamber of Accords,” he said lightly, crossing to a sideboard. He poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two glasses. “Drink?”

I hesitated, eyeing the strong spirits. But my nerves still competed with the lingering thrum of arousal, and I took the glass. The brandy was rich, warming me more thoroughly than I liked to admit.

Kazimir shrugged off his coat, draping it over a chair before starting on the buttons of his waistcoat. My heartbeat jumped. “What are you doing?” I asked, unable to forget that hungry press of his body.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Undressing. These clothes are unbearable.”

My hand clenched around the glass. Another button gave way, flashing the white linen below. “I’ll… freshen up, then.”

Kazimir paused, his fingers resting on the next button. “Before you do, there’s something you should know.” His voice dropped, turning velvet soft. “I sleep naked.”

I nearly choked on my last sip of brandy. “You can’t be serious.”

“I can, and I am. My chambers, my rules.”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” I accused.

“Without a doubt,” he said unapologetically, “but also telling the truth.” He fiddled with another button. “Now you’re warned.”

I stared, infuriated. His eyes glimmered with amusement, and I knew he expected me to run.

So I did.

I turned sharply on my heel and hurried into the bathing chamber, feeling his gaze burn on my back the entire way.

13

UNDRESS FOR SUCCESS (AND OTHER TACTICAL ERRORS)

KAZIMIR

I flung my waistcoat across the study with unnecessary force, watching it land in a pathetic crumple by the desk.

One day. One fucking day since I’d stolen Arabella from her carriage, and already she was wreaking havoc on my well-honed self-control. The way she’d looked at me when we danced—regal, defiant, breathtaking—had made me want to claim her right in front of my court. And if Morana hadn’t chosen that moment to create a scene of her own, I would have done something incredibly stupid.

And that last kiss on the stairwell? A disastrous mistake.

“Forty-fold amplification,” I muttered, pouring myself another brandy with hands that absolutely were not trembling. “That’s all it was. Magical resonance.”

Snatching the glass off the table, I downed it in two long swallows. This was humiliating. I didn’t getflusteredover anyone, much less a woman who’d spent our entire acquaintance either stabbing me or plotting to do so.

Still, I couldn’t banish the memory of her mouth against mine. I’d tasted her, and for those moments, been lost in thewarmth of her body, the breathy sound she made when my tongue plunged deeper. When she’d arched against me, I’d forgotten every single one of my so-called priorities.

Terror of the Western Realms, indeed.

The sound of running water reminded me she was just behind the bathing chamber door. I set my empty glass aside, then tore off my shirt and tossed it carelessly onto the growing pile of clothes. The runes carved into my skin glowed faintly with the remnants of the day’s magic, their scorching memory tight across my chest and arms.

I considered a robe, then let it fall back on its hook. If I was going to be a villain, I might as well commit to the role.

Besides, clothing sometimes aggravated the scarring on my back, particularly on nights like this when my magic still buzzed under my skin. Frankly, part of me wanted Arabella to see the monster in vivid detail. Maybe then I could scare her off or remind myself of the real reason I’d brought her here in the first place.

After discarding the rest of my clothes, I settled back onto the bed, deliberately sprawling atop the covers, one arm casually tucked behind my head and my erection proudly on display. My body, traitorous as it was, had stirred at the mere thought of her. She deserved to suffer a little, too.

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