Page 75 of Promise of Darkness
“You’re a prince,” I tell him. “And you rule with a firm and steady hand.”
“How… generic.”
“It’s not.” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “My mother rules with spite and ambition. Queen Maren rules with secrecy and lies. And Lucidia’s people only know hunger and harsh taxes, for she is frugal and bitter.” And, if the rumors are to be believed, she is weakening. “You rule with acceptance. I’ve seen the court that flocks to your banners. No other ruler in the alliance would have allowed Eris to grace their halls. Or Baylor. You think of the future. You fear the past. And today, you tried to reach three power-hungry queens to convince them to work together to face a dangerous threat, even when they sneered at you and insulted you.” I hesitate. “You’re a better ruler than every queen in that chamber, and that’s what they fear.”
There’s a stillness to his frame, as if he’s absorbing those words.
I think, for the first time since I’ve met him, that I’ve rendered him speechless.
“And now, if you’re done with me, I think I should seek my bed.” The weight of the day’s frustrations itch along my skin. And there’s a certain sense of closeness in this moment, as if we’ve both got our shields down.
I’m not sure it’s wise to stay.
“I’m not done with you.”
He moves suddenly, every inch of him rich with motion, with intent.
“What now?” I demand, realizing he’s closer to me than I expected.
“Now?” he murmurs, taking the goblet from my hand and setting it aside on a table. “What do you think?”
The afternoon light is fading. And with the onset of night comes the payment of certain promises….
“You spoke like a queen today,” he murmurs, tilting his head down to look at me. “Don’t think the others didn’t notice.”
“My mother didn’t like it.”
“Your mother doesn’t like any of us. Trust me, you’re in elite company.”
That old, familiar tension pools in my stomach as he steps closer.
Every night it’s been like this.
A promise owed, and a debt claimed.
Thiago presses one hand to the table behind me, his hard body caging me in. Leaning forward, his breath whispering over my lips, he pauses.
I can’t look away.
One move and he’ll claim my mouth. I know he will. He wants to. I see it in his eyes, those ever-present fires stoked with every nightly encounter between us. There is all manner of sin in those eyes. They promise me exquisite pleasure, and they demand complete surrender.
It’s that last one I have a problem with.
But he never takes that step.
He always waits for me to make it, as if this is a game, and every time I push my piece into play, he’s the one who secretly wins.
I owe him a simple kiss. Just one. And every night they’ve been the briefest of brushes, my lips to his.
“What are you waiting for?” he whispers, his other hand reaching up to hover an inch from my breast.
I can almost feel that touch on my skin.
You.
I close my eyes against temptation and give into the inevitable, lifting on my toes and brushing my mouth against his.
Thiago leans closer, the heat of his body hovering between us. His wrist brushes against my hip, his hand flexing with the desire to touch. But it’s forbidden. Without my word, he cannot.
