I heave a sigh of relief but tense up as the prince takes another step toward me.
“And what ofyourneeds, love?” The way his voice envelops me sends another rush of heat, only this time, it heads south.
“My . . . needs?” I stammer.
He takes one more step, and our bodies are almost close enough to touch. I have to crane my neck to look him in the eyes. What in the gods’ names is his game?
“It’s only fair,” he continues. “I’ll keep my needs met discreetly so long as you do the same.”
I swallow, and his gaze drops to my throat. “I can agree to that.” My voice comes out all breathy. I hate it.
“Good.”
“Good,” I repeat. “Oh, and one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“Stop calling me love.” Our gazes hold, and for a moment, I forget to breathe, but then he winks.
“Now that’s too much, love.”
He steps back, and the sudden breathing room brings a sense of relief along with the tiniest prick of disappointment.
I take a deep breath. This is probably a huge mistake. “So what now?”
The prince looks thoughtful. “I suppose I need to speak with your father about the marriage contract. Do you happen to know when he’ll return?”
I shake my head. “I would like to hope he’ll return soon, but I have no way of knowing. He hasn’t sent word.”
“That will definitely slow our plans,” the prince muses.
I have to admit, I’m confused why it matters to him. Surely if he told his father his intentions, that would assuage the king’s concerns. The delay only really affects me.
“Perhaps you could come back to the manor later on and inform Stepmother of your intention to court me?” I offer. “Surely she couldn’t turn you down.”
“I suppose.” The prince smirks. “That just means you’ll need to suffer my presence once more.”
I scoff. “It could be worse. I could be doing laundry.”
The prince places his hand on his chest. “Once again, you wound me, lady. I am only better than laundry?”
“Only slightly,” I tease, offering him a smirk.
“Fine then. I will inform my father of my intention to court you, and when I return, hopefully the news will improve things for you here at home.”
I nod. “I hope so.”
“Well, I should be off before someone catches us out here alone. Best not start our relationship off with a scandal.”
“How kind of you, Your Highness.”
“Kian.”
“What?”
He smiles, a softer one than I’ve seen. “Please call me Kian. If I am to be your husband, we can do away with some of the formalities.”
“Kian,” I test out. It will take some getting used to. Court formalities have been drilled into me my entire life, but I suppose he is right.
