“Well, I suppose that means we are sitting in this one.” I hold out my elbow. Her white gloves look brutally light against my black sleeves. All I can do is stare at her hand gracefully posed over my forearm. My face is neutral, but my brain is screaming,She’s touching me, she’s touching me!!
I give the drivers a little nod, and they peel away from where they waited patiently a few yards away. Valentina settles into her seat, but before I can climb in after her, Casimir has rolled down his window and stuck his head out, catching my attention. He reaches his hand out, too, and does a good job at pretending to make out with it.
My lips curve down. But that doesn’t deter him from the sloppy, wet noises he’s making against his palm.
“Stop it!” I hiss at him.
He drops his hand, smiling ear to ear. Then, with a wink, he says, “You got this.”
Oh, goddess. The only thing I have is a death wish.
Then Casimir’s face is gone, and the window is being rolled back up. His voice mingles with Cameron’s, and I wonder what they’ll talk about as we ride to the Court of Winds.
The carriage rocks as I pull myself inside and close the door tightly. A small gray curtain frames our view of the castle as we begin to pull away. Only when the castle is a dot on the horizon do I finally allow myself to speak, to even look her way.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“I didn’t think I was either until about five minutes ago.” Valentina looks up from under her lashes, her hands fiddling in her lap.
My gaze drifts from her face and the subtle blush of her cheeks down to the collar of her dress that dips low enough to give me some glimpse at cleavage. Her bodice hugs her slender waist, and the skirts of her baby-blue gown are arranged neatly around her. Father doesn’t normally allow his queens to show even a sliver of their chests when in the company of anyone other than himself. Yet here I am drinking in her pale, white skin and imagining what she looks like under that gown.
I sit forward on the edge of my seat, dying to close the space between us. My elbows prop me up on my knees. Valentina watches, her lips slightly upturned. For a moment, I swear I see her eyes bounce from my own gaze to my lips and back up. The memory of kissing her, of holding her close, is vibrant behind my eyelids when I blink.
“Why did you decide to come?” The question says what I truly can’t.What have you decided about us? Do you want me? Do you want this?
This is how I know that I am not a good man despite my best efforts. A good man would let her go because any and every moment we are together could mean her death. The gods only know what might happen to me. Honestly, my head could very well be on the line if my father were to ever find out.
“Well, I thought about what I wanted in my marriage when I was a little girl dreaming of a husband one day. How I wanted a man who would fight for what he believed in, who was kind and gentle, someone who might challenge me to bemore.”
“Don’t little girls often dream of marrying a king?” The heartbeat of silence that follows feels like a dagger straight to my gut.
“Not this little girl. I wanted what my parents had. They were not wealthy, but they loved each other.” Her teeth dig into her lip, and when she catches me staring, she stops. “Marrying the king is a high honor, though, and it allowed my parents to retire comfortably.”
“So you do not regret the choice?” I scoot a little farther until our knees are brushing, and my bottom is nearly slipping off the seat’s edge.
She laughs, a sound so stunningly beautiful, my heart skips a beat. “I didn’t have a choice. But if I didn’t marry King Melic, I would not have Beau.Heis the love of my life.” She looks down at her hands. “If I didn’t marry King Melic, I would never have met you.”
I sit up so fast that Valentina jumps at the motion. My head is soaring in the clouds and swirling with images of what could be between us. “So you’ll have me?”
“I—” She bites that lip again.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to kiss you so fucking good that you’ll forget my father’s name. You’ll forget that his hands were ever on your body.”
Her lip slips out from under her teeth. When I think she’s going to turn me down, she whispers, “Kiss me anyway.”
The air between us burns before it’s sucked away as I lean forward. With my attention still pinned on her, I unhook the curtains on both doors to cover the windows. Though we were alone to begin with, it feels just a tad more private now. Gently, I pick up one of her hands and finger by finger, peel away a glove. Her breath catches in her throat the moment our skin meets, but I move on to the other hand.
“I want your hands on me. No gloves,” I say, throat husky and hot.
“If we’re giving a list of requirements for this kiss, then...” She reaches between us, fingers finding the top button of my shirt. Her attention is bouncing again. From my face to my shirt as she undoes button after button.
I don’t move. I can’t. Not even if I wanted to would I be able to shift away from this woman’s touch. The moment the cool air meets my skin, her hands follow. Her touch is warm as her hands trail up to my neck.
“I have another requirement,” I rasp.
She arches a brow but waits, fingers brushing back and forth under my jaw. I don’t have a ready answer, at least not on the tip of my tongue. My body just moves on its own. Pulling that sweet vanilla scent toward me, I guide Valentina forward until she’s straddling me, and her skirts are pooling around her hips and over my lap. Only her underwear and my own bottoms separate us now.
“And if you get to touch me like that, then I must get the same.”
