“How would you have me beg it?” she returned, refusing to wilt beneath his stern countenance and frank regard.
“I have many ideas, my lady,” he drawled, reaching into his coat. “However, as none of them would be wise, I have an alternative solution.” He extracted a golden, gem-encrusted flask from his coat and held it aloft. “A drink.”
She eyed the flask, wondering at its contents. No doubt, it contained spirits. Speaking of unwise…partaking in anythingwith a king who was betrothed to the princess seemed foolhardy indeed. And Tansy could not shake the impression that there had been an overt sensuality in his words.
I have many ideas.
No, she must not think of them. Nor entertain the inexplicable spark of warmth in her belly at his presence and nearness and the way his bold gaze traveled over her form, as lingeringly as a touch.
“If it pleases Your Majesty,” she agreed, reaching for the flask against her better judgment.
As she took it from him, their fingers grazed, and a new frisson leapt past her wrist, up her arm, and then down her spine.
“Much would please me, Lady Tansy. Beginning with you calling me Maxim.”
Maxim.
The name, like the invitation, like the man, felt dangerous.
Holding the flask more tightly than was necessary, she opened it and brought it to her lips, tipping it back. Cool liquid sluiced over her tongue; the flask was fuller than she had anticipated, leaving her with a mouthful. A foul-tasting mouthful.
She jerked the flask from her lips and forced herself to swallow the dreadful concoction. Her eyes watered as she struggled not to choke and sputter.
A low rumble interrupted her misery.
It was coming from the king, watching her with hooded eyes. Laughter, she realized. He didn’t seem a man who was capable of levity, and yet he was laughing. At her. Tansy’s cheeks went hot, embarrassment creeping over her.
“What is it?” she managed, her voice raspy.
“Scotch whisky. Have you never tried it before?”
“Never,” she croaked, wishing she could spit the taste of the vile stuff from her mouth. “Nor can I see the allure.”
His lips turned up into a smile.
And for a searing moment, Tansy forgot the flavor coating her tongue. Because when King Maximilian of Varros smiled, her breath caught, seizing in her lungs. Every part of her body became exquisitely aware of him as a man. His handsomeness was austere and forbidding, but when his mouth curved and the grooves at the corners of his eyes deepened, his masculine beauty was nothing short of arresting.
“Perhaps it’s a spirit that one must try several times to garner an appreciation.”
His tone was low, almost intimate. As was his gaze, lingering on her lips as she licked them to rid them of the terrible flavor of his Scotch whisky.
She almost saidof course, her usually unassailable nerves rattled by this man and his mercurial personality. But she bit back the words at the last moment.
“Perhaps,” she allowed instead, offering the flask to him.
He accepted it, and unless she was mistaken, deliberately caused their fingers to brush once more. Holding her stare, he brought the flask to his lips, making a show of placing them where hers had so recently been, and taking a long pull of the awful spirits within. She watched as his Adam’s apple dipped twice whilst he swallowed. A ring on his finger caught her attention—it was fashioned of gold with a red stone at its center.
He lowered the flask and offered it to her again. “Test our theory, Lady Tansy.”
Our theory.
There was something equally intimate about the wordour, the implication that they were somehow secretly united, even if only for the purpose of something as trivial as sharing a drink. The air surrounding them certainly felt intimate. They werealone, his long limbs spread out so that his booted feet nearly touched her gown’s hem. They were in a bedchamber.
Theprincess’sbedchamber, she reminded herself sternly as she accepted the flask with great reluctance. “I’m not certain I should. I very much fear my mouth shall never recover if I ingest another sip of your foul brew.”
He drummed his fingers on his thigh, the ruby winking from his ring like a taunt. “If you aren’t daring enough for a second taste, I understand.”
He questioned her mettle?
