Page 102 of The Rebel and the Rose
He nodded slowly, relinquishing his Shade next. ‘Yeah…’ He rubbed the spot between his brows, trailing off. ‘I thought he… I don’t know what I thought.’
‘You were jealous,’ she said, hooking her finger around the chain on his waistcoat.
‘Obviously.’
‘And we don’t kill people out of jealousy.’
His brows lowered. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’
‘Not tonight there isn’t.’
‘Give me another reason then.’
‘I can’t.’ And she was relieved. ‘Our conversation went… well. He’s not at all like the king made him seem. He’shuman.’ But they had barely scratched the surface, and she was eager to know more about him. About what he could do for her. And more than that, Bibi. ‘I need more time with him. So if you could refrain from stabbing Valterre’s favourite new saint for just a little longer…’
He looked pained at the very suggestion. ‘I have a badfeeling about him. About this place. The way he looks at you. The way he looked atme.’
‘That’s because he knows what you are, Ransom.’
‘I don’t fucking doubt it.’
‘You’re worked up, that’s all.’
‘Everyone in this place is worked up,’ he pointed out. ‘It feels like we’re stuck on a carnival ride.’
Huffing now, Sera dragged her fingers through her hair, anxiously pulling at the loose curls. She envied the dancers twirling around them. She wanted to laugh like the table of women nearby, wanted to drink something heady and strong, and damn the consequences.
‘Maybe that’s our problem.’ Thinking too much. Worrying about every little thing. For once, she wanted to lose herself in a moment, to breathe in the intoxicating fumes of Marvale and float above her worries. And she didn’t want to do it alone. Feeling bolder, reckless and aching for something she knew only he could give her, she slid her hands up his chest, raising her lips to his ear. ‘Maybe we both need to relax and enjoy the ride.’
He blinked in surprise, some of that coiled tension rolling off him. ‘Are you intending to distract me from my own murderous thoughts, Seraphine?’
‘That depends,’ she said, leaning in. ‘Is it working?’
‘I’m not sure. Keep going,’ he said, sinking into that easy heat between them. All that aggression towards Andreas twisted, redirected now to other primal urges. Ones she was eager to indulge. He traced his thumb along her lower lip, smudging the rouging there. All around them, the sweet smoke thickened, the music pulsing along her skin until it feltlike the entire dance hall was pressing in on them. Pulling on the chain of his waistcoat, she dragged him further into the alcove.
She laid her head back against the wall, spell-struck by the ravenous look in his eyes. ‘You’re the only one I ever want to touch me, Ransom.’
Lust snatched the air between them, those eyes drinking her down. His broad hands circled her waist, tracing the boning of her corset. ‘Where, spitfire?’
A gentle tug made her feathered scarf give way. It made a puddle between them, revealing the creamy slope of her shoulders and the column of her neck. ‘Here,’ she said, arching for him.
Sliding his hands through her hair, he leaned down to kiss her neck. Sera’s lids fluttered, a familiar heat gathering inside her as he deftly worked his way up, tonguing the spot beneath her ear.
All thought eddied away. She forgot all about the prince and the king and the small matter of her own destiny. Her breath grew harsh and fast as he dragged his mouth down the column of her neck, lightly nipping, then laving with languid strokes of his tongue. He was teasing her, and she was melting for him, desperate for his hands on her body. Just a handful of minutes to feel –just feel– and not think. And, oh, shefelt. So much that she found herself unravelling, her own hunger taking over as she reached for the buttons on his shirt.
Not here.
She gripped his waistcoat. ‘Let’s go back to the Paramour. Now.’
‘Spitfire.’ His eyes darkening, he pulled back to look at her. ‘I am dangerously close to using Shade to clear this whole place out.’
She nipped at her smile. ‘Less murder, more kissing.’
‘What about the prince?’
‘Later,’ she said. There was no telling when Andreas would be back, and now that that they were acquainted, she had time for this. Time for Ransom.
They abandoned the alcove. Sera grabbed Val on the dance floor, telling her she was heading back to the inn. Let the others follow at their leisure, though it seemed they were sinking into the spirit of Marvale just as keenly as she was.
