He issued the words as an accusation rather than a question.
She swallowed hard. “Of course not, Your Majesty.”
King Maximilian approached her in a predatory prowl. “What did I tell you yesterday about all yourof courses, Lady Tansy? Could it be that you’ve already forgotten?”
His voice was soft to keep it from carrying to the hall, and yet it bore an underlying strength that was as hard as granite. She clasped her hands together before her and resisted the urge to retreat from his imposing form as he stopped near enough to touch. She had a wild, fleeting thought about what it would feel like to place her hand on his massive chest, to test the strength of his arms. But then she hastily dashed the unwanted curiosity away.
“Naturally, I have not,” she said. “Your Majesty said that you suspected I used the phrase to keep myself from offering my true opinion on a matter. However, as I said yesterday, I haven’t any opinions. It is not my place to do so.”
“Are you telling me that I amwrong, my lady?” he asked sharply.
He had certainly laid a neat trap for her. Any answer she could give would pay him insult.
“I would never deign to do so,” she told him solemnly.
“Hmm,” he said, that disapproving hum he had given her the day before.
Not a growl, at least, nor a grunt. Dare she consider it an improvement?
“Are you a liar then, as well as a lady-in-waiting?” he asked shrewdly, and she had her answer.
Decidedly not an improvement.
“I do not count myself a liar, Your Majesty,” she answered quietly.
He seemed somehow harsher today. The slash of his jaw was tense, and he looked very much like a man who carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. No doubt, he did carry the weight of his kingdom and his people. For a wild, fleetingmoment, she knew a pang of guilt at the secret she was keeping from him, but then she banished the unworthy emotion. Her loyalty was to Princess Anastasia above all else.
“You’ve a secret,” he said firmly, insistently.
His gaze was hard and glittering. Probing and penetrating.
There was something about this man that made her intensely aware of him. It was as if her body were somehow commanded by his presence, making a traitor of her with every moment they spent alone.
“I have no secrets, Your Majesty,” she said, giving him the somber answer that she knew she must.
“You haven’t any secrets just as you haven’t any opinions,” he said, his voice low and deep and somehow smooth and cutting all at once. A slow smile curved his lips, and the transformative effect it had upon his already handsome countenance left her breathless. “And yet, you claim not to be a liar.”
He took another step closer, bringing with him the tempting hint of leather and citrus and musk. And he was towering over her now in truth, near enough to touch, the three gold buttons on his white linen shirt within easy reach. They bore his insignia, she realized for the first time.
King Maximilian was a devilishly handsome man.
She could admit it to herself. From his black hair with the blazing silver at his temples to his massive form and sensual mouth to those dark, knowing eyes.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered simply, her eyes slipping to the Aubusson at her feet, for she couldn’t bear to continue holding his gaze.
It was like staring into the sun.
“You will call me Maxim from this moment forward.”
It was the command of a king. Of a man who knew his dictate would not be questioned. A man who was powerful and understood it, who wasn’t afraid to flex his proverbial muscle.
“I cannot,” she denied him just the same.
“You can, and you shall.” He leaned down, the heat emanating from him palpable, so near that she felt his breath coasting over her neck and his lips grazed her ear. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”
The soft brush of his mouth over her skin shook Tansy. Her nipples went instantly hard beneath her stays, a jolt of awareness gliding through her to land low in her belly. For a moment, she was frozen, trapped in the astonishing effect his nearness and touch had upon her. The thought of him lowering his head a scant inch and pressing his lips to her throat flashed through her before she banished it.
“Why should you think I have a secret?” she managed to force past the inconvenient longing still holding her in its relentless clutches.
