Page 66 of The Beauty and the Griffin

“No.” He looked genuinely puzzled, but then his brow smoothed. “You can trust me: we won’t attempt this until we’ve smoothed out every possible wrinkle.”

“But if people find out you’re deceiving them with magic, terrible things could happen. Things you can’t anticipate. My best friend nearly died last summer because a jealous girl with a magic—”

He gave his head a sharp shake. “Too much information.”

“Then please tell me you won’t endanger anyone so that we can be together.”

Dismay filled his eyes as he stepped closer. “Beatrice, I would neverharmpeople to get my way. Not even to be with you.”

His assurance sounded genuine. His eyes were clear, guileless. I wanted so much to believe him . . .

“Please don’t worry.” His hands lifted toward me, clenched, then dropped to his sides. He paced a few steps away before turning back. “The seer foretold that I would find my True Love, and here you are. It will all work out for us with no harm to anyone.”

Although I could see that he genuinely believed this, deciding to marry someone after a few brief meetings in dreams hardly seemed sensible to me. Okay, fine: it sounded downright crazy. Not to mention . . . controlling. As if our marriage were a foregone conclusion that required only magic to make everything perfect.

Almost as if he’d glimpsed my thoughts, he shook his head and changed the subject. “Here I’d hoped to learn all about you, and instead I now know all about your friends. No more deflection if you please.”

Talk about deflection! I nearly chided him for it, but the puppy-dog pleading in his eyes softened my heart. What would be the point in getting irritated with an overbearing yet charming king who quite possibly existed only in my subconscious mind? Why argue when these might be our last few moments together?

I worked up a smile. “Fine. For every question you ask, I get to ask one of you.” I felt a bit weak in the knees, so I took refuge on a shaded bench.

When I looked up again, his hands were stuffed into his trouser pockets. “You’re so difficult to manage,” he joked, yet I heard relief in his voice.

“You may as well give up trying. I’m incorrigible.” I smiled to soften my words. With each passing moment, I saw more of the spoiled prince in him, which somehow made the situation easier to deal with. “I’ll start. What was your favorite subject to study in school?”

His expression brightened, and he paced before me with measured steps. “In ordinary school, mathematics. In magical studies? Time.”

“Time? That’s natural, not magical.”

He gave me the side-eye. “Why can’t it be both?” When I could offer no answer, he asked, “What was yours?”

“History, I suppose. Or music. To my way of thinking, the two subjects are linked. The same with art.”

“Do you play an instrument or sing? Or perhaps you paint?”

“I play piano, but both my talent and my time to pursue any of the arts are limited.”

“Yet you have an artist’s eye and ear. Interesting!” His evident approval warmed me. “And a solid grasp of history is essential for making sense of the present. Now it’s my turn to choose the question. If you could have any creature as a companion, what would it be?”

“I would choose a cat, I think. They’re complex, beautiful, and entertaining. How about you?”

His forehead crinkled as he paced back and forth before me. “I’ve owned dogs, horses, and even a falcon. No cats though. I’ll have to share yours someday. I’ll say . . . a lion. Or maybe an eagle.”

I chuckled. “Youcould pass for a lion, the way you prowl.”

With a wry smile, he settled on the bench beside me and reached to take my hand. “Guess I’m overstrung.”

“I should say you are.” Even as our fingers linked perfectly and invisible flames raced up my arm, I strove to keep the situation light. “Now, if you could visit any place in the world, where would you go?”

He studied our interlocked hands. “If I could take you with me, I believe I would enjoy a remote tropical island.”

His sultry tone sent heat rushing into my face, but my mind pictured the impossible tropical island in Faraway Lake . . . and I wondered yet again if the resort had existed in his time. Aloud, I merely said, “That would be fun. But I think I’d like to travel across the world and stop in many places, not just one.”

“Then let’s do it.” He spoke in a lighter tone as he rose from the bench, tugging me up with him. “We can begin by finishing our tour of the garden.”

Relief and possibly a touch of disappointment cooled my face. Had I imagined more romance than he intended? All this fated-mates talk seemed a bit crazy.

“Sounds like a feasible goal.” Determined to forget real-world problems and simply enjoy the moment, I soaked in his flattering attentions while we strolled winding paths.

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