Chapter 18. Means of Survival.
Imust have fallen asleep in his arms, for when I opened my eyes, the water was as cold as a winter storm. Yet, I could not be bothered, as his body pressing against mine set my body aflame.
“Sleep well?” Francis murmured against my ear, sending dozens of goosebumps down my flesh.
“I must have been exhausted.” I turned to face him.
“As much as I fancy your company, Princess, I now must go.” His fingers brushed over my cheekbone before dropping to my hand. “There’s lots to do before tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” My brows furrowed as I stopped myself from grabbing his hand and pressing it against my cheek once more.
“The full Moon,” Francis’ voice echoed through the chambers. “Barren is waiting for us.”
“Of course.” I had completely forgotten about the meeting.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to plan anything, knowing yourcautiousnature.” He winked, his lips curling.
My eyes rolled, yet no attempts to fight my smile were successful. “I do have a plan, believe it or not.”
“Is that so?” Francis chuckled. “Care to share?” He repeated the same question he’d asked me before our first meeting at the Barren’s castle.
“I will convince Barren he is in charge even when we are the ones giving out orders.” I shrugged.
“And how will you manage that?” Francis wouldn’t give up; his finger brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“You have to trust me,” I teased, my lips stretching into a mischievous smile.
Francis’ gaze flickered to mine when the small distance between us suddenly bothered me in all the wrong ways.
His eyes reflected the candlelight as they gazed into the depths of my soul. “Princess?” His sultry voice caressed my flesh.
“Yes?” My voice dropped to a shaken whisper.
Wickedness sparkled in Francis’ eyes as they darkened. “May I steal a kiss?” He rasped, his pulse visible on his neck.
“A thief asking for permission to steal,” I teased, my heart galloping in my chest. “That is certainly unheard of.”
Francis chuckled, averting his gaze to the candle that stood on the rim of the bathtub; wax flowing onto the marble, sliding into the cold water.
A smile tugged on Francis’ lips, “Is that a no?”
“I’ve never said that.” I shrugged, allowing myself a glance at his lips.
“Why, Princess, you certainly enjoy torturing me,” he tsked, yet he made no attempt at granting his own wish.
“You make it far too easy.” My voice cracked, betraying my act.
