Page 102 of Shadow's Edge (Night Prowler 1)
“Well,” he drawled, perfectly serene, raising his eyebrows at her. “Who did you think would be able to make changes to the Law, if not the Queen?”
It was a full thirty seconds before she comprehended him. The blood began rushing through her veins like wildfire.
“Ah. Changes. Yes. Well.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve always thought the Law was too strict. Despotic, in fact.”
He nodded solemnly. “Archaic.”
“Yes, exactly. In dire need of a few...updates.”
“Adjustments,” he agreed.
“Hmmm. Yes, the Law is in need of a few revisions. And if only the Queen can make those kinds of changes...” One shoulder came up. Leander watcher her lips purse, ripe as cherries against the glow of her rose-cream skin.
“Think of it as an opportunity to right the wrongs of an imperfect system,” he murmured. “To bring liberties to the oppressed. You could bring the Law of the Ikati into the twenty-first century.”
Her lowered lashes made a silken dark curve against her cheeks. “I never pictured myself a crusader for change...” The tiniest of smiles played around her lips. “Although I must admit, liberties are something I am particularly fond of.”
“Not to mention trouble making and rule breaking,” he added. She looked up at him. His face was placid, but his eyes were bright, laughing green.
“Don’t forget baubles,” she said.
His smile deepened. He slid his hand up her arm and over her shoulder, his palm skimming over her bare skin. He curled his hand around the nape of her neck, buried his fingers into the cool weight of her hair. “Large baubles, if I remember correctly,” he said, husky.
His eyes took on a new light, burning and intent, as he bent his head toward her.
He brushed a kiss across her cheekbone, her temple. He nosed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. “And the ever-popular bent knee,” she said breathlessly.
He laughed low into her ear and put his arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms wound up over his shoulders. “I was just getting to that,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. A slight, mocking sigh left his lips. “How much easier my life would be if I weren’t in love with such a headstrong, demanding woman. I think you’re going to be very bad for my blood pressure.”
“Yes,” she agreed, tilting her head to his. “I’m afraid I am going to be a very difficult wife. ‘High-maintenance’ I believe is the correct term.”
Wife. His heart began to swell in his chest, so big he thought it would burst.
“A real hellion,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. He felt her smile, curving and taut against his kiss.
“That’s Queen Hellion, to you, my love,” she breathed, lying back onto the pillows. She stretched her arms out to him, and he leaned down over her and smiled, a genuine smile this time.
“God, yes,” he whispered. He bent his head to kiss her neck, the fine skin of her throat. His lips skimmed the rise of her breasts exposed in open invitation above the neckline of her dress. “Say it again.” His fingers discovered the delicate pearl buttons of her sundress. He worked the top few open.
“Queen—” She broke off as his tongue probed the flesh the opened buttons had exposed. She twined her fingers into his hair, turned her head to his neck. “Queen Hellion?”
“No, the other part,” he murmured with a low laugh, dropping kisses o
ver her skin. He lifted his head and gazed deep into her eyes with his hand spread against the side of her face.
“Oh, let’s see.” She pretended to think, looking at the ceiling and drawing her eyebrows together. “I’m a bit tired, my memory isn’t quite clear—”
“My love,” he insisted, scowling down at her. “You said ‘my love.’ And I want you to say it again.”
Her eyebrows climbed. “And I’m the demanding one?”
“Jenna—”
“And as for headstrong—”
“Jenna.”
“My love,” she whispered, relenting, her eyes shining and unguarded. “I admit it. You are my love and my life, and there is nothing in the world that could ever make me leave you. Not even your ridiculous titles.”
