Page 48 of The Royal Curse

I gaped at him. “How did you—yes, I was avoiding you, and that’s never stopped you before, I need to point out. But howdidyou know?” I hadn’t said a word to him. If he knew me well enough to understand my mood, and if he’d simply been respecting my apparent desire to be left alone…it was rather lowering to realize that almost all of my anger had been for his distance, without much left for the way he’d laughed at me and my absurd lack of magical control.

He shrugged again, the motion flexing those arms and that chest in an incredibly distracting way.

“You walked right by me with your nose in the air on the way to your bedroom earlier. I followed you up the stairs, and you shut the door in my face. And then you called down for supper for one.”

Well, all right. Yes. I had done those things, but I’d assumed he’d ignore me and come into the room anyway if he damn well pleased. Past experience with Andreas suggested that if I dug in my heels and argued about what I had or hadn’t done, he’d get that gleam in his eye and give as good as he got, and it would go poorly for me, prince or no. It might be more dignified to simply…not discuss it at all.

“I needed privacy,” I said loftily. “But I’ll let it pass.”

Andreas’s lips twitched. “How generous of you, Your Highness.”

Oh, for fuck’s— “Take your pants off, will you?” I snapped.

“Your wish is my command,” he said smoothly, and reached for his buttons. “But you haven’t told me why you’re angry yet.”

My breath caught in my throat as the buttons slipped out and his trousers opened, revealing the thick jut of his cock, already hard and straining the linen of his drawers. For me.

So I sounded a little strangled as I replied, “Because you laughed at me.” And then I stopped, horrified. I’d been letting it go, hadn’t I?

Andreas’s face softened and his hands stilled. “I didn’t laugh at you,” he said, and he was deathly serious, without a trace of his usual sardonic edge. “I thought I was laughing with you. At how ridiculous it was. I felt guilty for laughing at the maid, but I didn’t—you really thought I was laughing atyou?”

When he did laugh at me, which he had often enough—although, honor forced me to admit, only when I deserved it—it made me go all hot and molten inside, eager to argue and win or to fight him and lose, and either way to end up under him. That was what I’d wanted even before I had an excuse to act on it. I’d denied it to myself, desperately. But I couldn’t deny it anymore.

And when he looked at me like this, like he cared about my feelings, cared for me…well, that gave me a whole new set of desires.

To smile into his kiss, caress him, gentle him. To fall to my knees and show him how I could care for him in turn. Show him how sweet I could be.

The sincerity in that steady dark gaze cleansed me of the last of my anger and my self-consciousness. He hadn’t been laughing at me. He’d said so. Andreas would never lie to me.

And he wouldn’t laugh at me now, either, even if my inexperience made me awkward. Could anyone be elegant and poised kneeling on the floor and crouching to suck a cock? If so, I wouldn’t be one of them.

I met his eyes, trying not to blush but knowing I’d failed by the burning heat spreading up my neck and cheeks.

“I did think that,” I said. “It was—I didn’t have control of my own magic. It’s humiliating. But I don’t doubt your word. And I’m not angry anymore.”

“How could you possibly—Niko.” He stepped forward, slowly crossing the room to me. “How could you be expected to have control over your magic when you’ve barely ever had a chance to use it?”

When I’d told him to address me by name, I’d more imagined him doing so mid-coitus than in conversation. Guards didn’t call princes by their nicknames just standing there and talking, after all. And although he had his clothes half off, this didn’t feel like foreplay. Lovers would do this, wouldn’t they? Real lovers. They’d dress and undress, talk, argue or resolve an argument, casually share the same bedroom and the same living space.

And they’d show each other affection and understanding, especially when one of them had unreasonable expectations for himself and took it out on his lover.

I knew damn well who I’d be in that scenario.

Through a tight throat, my eyes stinging, I managed to say, “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense that I’d know what to do, does it? But I expected—more, I suppose. Of myself.”

Andreas had come within a foot of me now, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach out, even though he drew me in so irresistibly that I found myself leaning, wanting his heat and his strength so badly. The moment I touched him it’d be irrevocable: this helpless need, this desperate desire, this connection that I’d never expected to have with another man.

I’d never be able to lie to myself again. And without those lies, how would I live?

“If I tell you what I think of that, Your Highness, I’m afraid you’d think me impertinent. Disrespectful, even.” He lifted his hand, and when he laid it against my cheek, gently cupping my jaw and stroking his fingers along my temple, the ground seemed to shift sideways under me and my eyes fluttered closed. I tingled where his skin met mine. I opened my eyes again and found him studying me with so much intensity my breath caught. He drew a deep breath of his own, his chest hitching. “If you didn’t use your potion you’d be able to practice as much as you wanted. You’d never accidentally send any clothes out the window again. But you’d be welcome to do it on purpose. I wouldn’t complain.”

Andreas flashed me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and every line of his big body had gone rigid with tension.

Could he possibly mean…? My heart kicked into a gallop, so hard and fast that he must’ve been able to feel it through the skin of his hand.

He hadn’t wanted me when my potion bottles broke in the first place. Had he? He’d been so reluctant. And my mother paid him to take care of me.

If any other man in his position had hinted that he wanted to become my lover, to replace the potion as my source of magical balance, I’d have strongly suspected an ulterior motive. Possibly several. Career advancement and promotion, money, power, influence…not that I could offer much of the above, really, but most commoners would wrongly assume I could.

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