Page 56 of American Queen (New Camelot Trilogy 1)
His eyes glow. “You have to dance with Ash first. But then after that, you’re mine.”
In his words, I hear the echo of our night together, and my blood stirs to a boil.
You’re with me, not him.
That’s it. All mine.
He looks away, clearing his throat as if realizing how intense that sounded. “I mean, for dancing, of course. Hey, maybe we can convince the quartet to play Rihanna—they probably already have the sheet music for that, right?”
I give a small laugh and so does he, but it doesn’t dispel the sudden uncomfortable tension between us. It’s almost a relief when we reach Ash and the Polish dignitaries.
Embry untucks my fingers from his arm and, with exaggerated ceremony, places them in Ash’s outstretched hand. “Your lady, milord.”
Ash’s fingers tighten around my hand, and he easily pulls me into him, his other hand holding his tumbler of vodka perfectly steady.
“You must trust this man very much to allow him unfettered access to such a beauty,” the Polish president says in a thickly accented voice.
I feel Embry’s posture stiffen behind me, feel the rush of blood to my cheeks.
“I do,” Ash responds. “I trust him with my life.”
“Really, it’s that I trust the Vice President to have such unfettered access to Maxen,” I joke to cover over Embry’s and my discomfort, but Ash doesn’t laugh along with everyone else.
Neither does Embry.
I look to him and then back to Ash, catching them glancing at each other. My heart crashes against my ribs, and for no reason at all, I’m reminded of how tight and hungry my cunt feels right now. How empty.
“Greer, I don’t think you’ve formally met the president of Poland,” Ash says, picking up the thread of conservation before our guests could notice the troubled tension hanging between the three of us. “Greer, this is Andrezj Lewandowski. President Lewandowski, this is Greer Galloway, a lecturer at Georgetown and a very important woman to me.”
Lewandowski leans in to brush a quick kiss against the back of my hand before releasing it, and it’s right then that Belvedere comes up to us. “Mr. President, they’re ready for you on the dance floor.”
“I suppose that’s our cue,” Ash says. “President Lewandowski, would you and Mrs. Lewandowski care to join us?”
The foreign leader looks less than thrilled, but nevertheless he finds his wife, and the four of us take to the dance floor. The band strikes up an orchestral version of a famous Polish folk song, and then I’m in Ash’s arms, my hand curled around his warm neck and his hand on my waist. We start moving, and I giggle a little at how woodenly Ash dances.
He makes a face at me. “Don’t make fun of me. I had to work hard to be this bad; I used to be much worse, you know.”
“I don’t see how,” I laugh as I steer us clear of the Polish couple. “I think I need to have a word with your teacher someday.”
“Any time you want,” Ash says, eyes twinkling down at me. “He’s right over there.”
I glance over to where Ash tilted his head and then laugh even harder. “Embry taught you to dance?”
“There’s a lot of dead time to fill when you’re deployed,” Ash says mock-defensively. “We had to entertain ourselves somehow.”
“So he taught you how to dance?”
“We took turns being the man, if you’re wondering.” Ash says it jokingly, but I ca
n’t help but remember his hand fisted in Embry’s tuxedo jacket, Embry’s knees on the floor between Ash’s shoes.
Ash notices my flushed cheeks before I do, reaching up and brushing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You’re blushing,” he remarks.
“I—” No. There’s no way I can tell him the things that are flashing through my mind. “I’m just warm.”
He looks at me for a moment, and I see him shelve this away for later. Instead he says in an offhand voice, “You and Embry seem to have become fast friends.”
Well, if I was flushed before, I’m sure my face is bloodless now. I can only manage a nod as a voice inside my head screams tell him the truth, tell him the truth!
