An emotion she didn’t understand flickered over his face and he gave a low, mirthless laugh. ‘No. No, I am not.’

A strange feeling lanced through her then—a kind of pain.

You’re jealous now?

She wanted to deny it, tell herself that she felt nothing for him so of course it couldn’t be jealousy. And yet… The thought of him with someone else made her hurt deep inside. ‘You’ll…take a lover, then? Is that what you’re saying?’

There was a darkness in his eyes now. ‘I will not be staying celibate just for you, little lioness.’

Lioness.

Brave as a lion. That was what he meant, wasn’t it? He thought she was brave.

She took another step, wanting to prove it both to herself and to him. ‘You have made demands of me since we met, and I’ve given you everything you wanted. I married you. I gave you my name and promised to be at your side for public appearances, for the sake of our people. So you’ve already punished me for my father’s crimes.’ The words kept on spilling out, even though she’d had no idea she was going to say them. ‘But it’s my turn now. I want to demand one thing of you.’ She took another step, then another, the last one carrying her straight to him. ‘Don’t find a lover, Your Majesty. If you want one, your wife is right here.’

His gaze flickered, then blazed with a bright, hot, fierce emotion that again she didn’t understand. He was breathing fast, as she was, his hands in fists at his sides.

Was that her effect on him? Had she driven him to this point?

They stared at each other for what felt like one long, aching eon.

Then abruptly he turned around without a word and strode away.

Disappointment gripped her as she watched his tall figure vanish up the path and into the gardens, along with another tight, hot feeling that was almost unbearable.

He might think her brave, but he still thought of her as fragile and vulnerable too, thought that she needed to be protected. She liked it that he wanted to protect her, but she didn’t want him to put her in the ‘delicate and fragile’ box. It aggravated her.

She was tired of being thought of as a victim, of being powerless and weak. Throughout her childhood she’d accepted those labels because it had been safer. But they chafed now. He’d called her a lioness, he thought she was brave, and she wanted to prove that to him—show him that she wasn’t as fragile as he thought.

She wanted him, his touch, his kiss. She wanted the passion she’d read about in books and the pleasure too. And she didn’t see why she couldn’t have it.

Yes, she was inexperienced, and he’d been very clear about what he liked sexually, but it hadn’t frightened her. It had made her curious, made her want to find out exactly what he meant by ‘rough’. Because she wasn’t some shy, wilting flower—or a bloody mouse.

She took a slow breath, determination hardening inside her.

He wanted her. She excited him—she could see that. But he was also denying himself, because he was a good man, with strong principles, and no matter what he said, he wasn’t like her father—not even a little bit.

He would make her want it, he’d said. Well, that was a two-way street. She could make him want it too. Why shouldn’t she?

Why shouldn’t she, for the first time in her life, actually take what she wanted for herself instead of hiding away in the dark? Also, it wasn’t just about her. It was clear he needed what she could offer. In a way, convincing him to sleep with her would be helping her country. A distracted king wasn’t ideal, after all, and from the looks of him he needed some relief. He’d been working so hard. She’d seen the shadows beneath his eyes.

Guinevere walked over to where the rest of the orange lay and picked it up. She tore off a segment and put in her mouth, and as she walked back to the palace she began to plan.

CHAPTER SIX

The rest ofthe day was a nightmare. Tiberius threw himself back into the endless list of tasks he had to do, along with all the interminable meetings he had to attend. But it didn’t seem to matter how hard he tried to distract himself—and he triedveryhard—all he could think about was her.

Her mouth. The sweet taste of her. The warmth and softness of her body against his. The unexpected fire in her eyes as she’d told him that she wanted him. That, should he want a lover, she was right there.

His wife. His lovely, lovely wife.

The devil on his shoulder whispered to him all day, giving him good reasons for why he should take her, indulge himself with her. She wanted him. Everyone likely thought they were sleeping together already. And besides, he’d need an heir at some point, and she would be a good candidate to give him one. Also, his concentration was shot, so if he really wanted to put his country first he shouldn’t be hesitating.

They were already married, for God’s sake, and he wanted her…

He had to resist, though. Because if he could not control his own appetites, how could he put some distance between his rule and that of Renzo Accorsi? How could he do justice to what his father had taught him?

And then there was the way Guinevere had been traumatised by her brothers and by her father. The last thing she needed was a man like him forcing his desires on her.