Page 44 of The Reluctant Queen
“Who do you want me to be?”
Hevva couldn’t answer, because she didn’t know. Instead, she looked around the transformed space and enjoyed what he’d made for her.
“How are you doing all of this?” She moved herself to stand beside him, gesturing at the road, the homes, the violin, and the blasted silvery moon.
“There’s an entire room of frozen candles next door.”
“What?”
“Do you want to see it?”
“Yes, I want to see it.” She rolled her eyes like he was an idiot for even asking.
He kissed her again, a quick hard peck. Then Ehmet grabbed Hevva’s hand. “All right, come on.”
seventeen
Hevva looks at candles.
“Ohhh,” Hevva breathed whenEhmet opened the room next door. “This is unfathomable.”
He grinned at her like a fool and her heart kicked into a gallop.
The bedchamber was filled with candles, at least fifty lit the space. But they did not flicker, not even a hair’s breadth. She tugged on his hand, and he followed, as curiosity led her over to one of the candelabras on the dresser. Hevva held her palm over the flame that still burned hot, it simply did not move.
“This is fantastic.” She squeezed his hand.
He chuckled. “Better than next door?”
Hevva sighed and considered her options. “Do I have to choose?” Her question held more weight than she’d intended. “I think this is beautiful too, in a different sort of way.”
“That’s how I feel...” the king trailed off, earning a curious glance from the countess.
“About?”
He moved in front of her and released her hand, reaching up to cup her cheek. “About you, and ‘Saka.’”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.” Her lips twitched on the last one, and that was the onlyinvitation he needed.
Ehmet’s hand slid from Hevva’s cheek to cup the nape of her neck, urging her near. Saka reached up to tangle her fingers in Berim’s hair as she pulled him in, until their mouths angled against one another in a confusing jumble of aliases and need.
Names were forgotten while their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Their lips and tongues held the conversations they were still too terrified to face.
“Please,” she panted into his shoulder as his tongue teased the length of her neck, and his fingers tortured her swollen nipples through the fabric of her gown.
“Please?” he spoke against her skin, nipping gently.
She whimpered, pressing her breasts against him harder, forcing his hands out of the way, seeking more. Hevva needed to be nearer, needed to touch his skin. She began to tug at Ehmet’s shirt, pulling it up and out of his dark trousers. When she gained access, she slipped her hand beneath the linen and pressed her palm against his chest.
He chuckled into the slope of her neck, a deep rumble that sent tremors from her palm to that treacherous place between her legs.
“Please,” she moaned as he squeezed her arse.
“What do we do about this?” Ehmet asked, running his fingertips down the sides of her ribs, and out over the soft flare of her hips. His enormous hands swallowed Hevva’s waist as he pulled her close.
