Page 95 of A Taste of Torment
I choke, coughing on my shock. “What?”
She chuckles. “No? Hmm. That’s disappointing.”
“What’s disappointing?”
“Oh, nothing. I just had a bet going. Sounds like I lost.”
She’s betting about our relationship? “What else are you betting on?”
She runs her finger over her bright red lips. “You.” There’s that wolfish grin again.
I frown. What does that mean?
“I’m betting that you’re ambitious and clever. You’re going to win.”
“Win what?”
“You’ll understand eventually. Close your eyes.”
I obey, wiping the frown from my face so she can swipe eyeliner over my eye.
“So, what are your intentions with my future brother-in-law?” she asks. “The only question I’m uncertain of is if you’re gonna repeat the same disappearing act in a few weeks’ time or if you’re my future queen.”
My lips part.She’s trying to get under your skin, I remind myself. And she’s supposed to believe I’m into Jarron. At least a little.Get a grip. Just because I admit to feelings, doesn’t mean it’s real.
I pull in a breath, ready to commit to the act.
“I’m hoping for something in between.” I force a smile. “The latter is a bit intense for me at the moment. But I don’t plan on running any time soon.”
She nods, apparently accepting my answer. She runs her fingers through my hair. “I’m thinking braided updo.”
I shrug. “I don’t usually do anything to it but a French braid when I’m feeling fancy.”
“Of course you don’t. It’s no wonder Auren never had a chance.”
“What?”
“Jarron likes low-key, non-materialistic. Humble.” Her voice rises on the last word, a strange cadence like it means something more than she’s letting on.
“Humble?” I’m not so sure that’s something I’d define myself as. I mean, more so than Auren, sure. “Just because I’m powerless doesn’t mean I’m humble.”
“Perhaps not,” she says, unconcerned. She pulls at the strands of my hair, parting it and spraying product in.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a professional to do hair for you,” I comment, hoping it’s not rude to say. I’m impressed she even knows how to do hair, given she’s been considered a princess most of her life.
“I could, I suppose. But I actually enjoy it.”
“That’s good. Makes me feel better about relying so much on your help tonight.”
“Well, I also don’t mind you owing me one.” Her bright red lips pout, but her attention remains steady on her project. I don’t like the thought of owing her anything, but I’m not naïve enough to think she holds anything over me. She may request a favor, and I may or may not oblige.
“Tell me about how you became connected to Trevor. You were an arranged marriage, right?”
“Oh, no, not really. My family has been close with the Blackthorns for centuries. Our parents certainly mused their son would marry their friends’ offspring, but it wasn’t forced. Actually, if it were truly arranged, it would be Jarron I’d be attached to, not Trevor.”
My mouth goes dry.
“My parents imagined me as queen, so the eldest brother was their first pick.”
