“Some things are mine alone, Claricia. And ye need tae respect that.”
“Or what?”
“Or…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her mouth. The air between them suddenly felt charged, dangerous. “Or ye’ll make me forget tae be a gentleman.”
Heat flooded through her at the seductive promise in his voice. This was dangerous territory. She should step back, put distance between them. Should remember that he was her enemy, her brother’s killer.
Erik moved forward, backing her into the room. The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded deafening in the sudden silence.
“What are ye daein’?” Her voice came out breathier than she intended.
“I dinnae ken.” He kept moving, slow and deliberate, until her back hit the wall and there was nowhere left to retreat. “I came tae apologize. Tae make sure ye were safe. But now I’m here, and ye’re lookin’ at me like that, and I?—”
“Like what?”
“Like ye dinnae ken whether ye want tae slap me or kiss me.”
The brutal honesty stole her breath.
“I dinnae want tae kiss ye,” she managed. “Ever.”
“Liar.” His hand came up, fingers ghosting along her jaw with devastating gentleness. “Yer heart’s racin’. I can see yer pulse right here…” His thumb brushed the base of her throat, “…beatin’ like a trapped bird fer me.”
“’Tis because I’mangryat ye.”
“Aye.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “So am I. Furious, actually. But that’s nae what’s makin’ yer breath come fast. That’s nae what’s got ye pressin’ against the wall like ye’re tryin’ tae melt intae it, is it?”
Claricia’s hands came up, flattening against his chest. She told herself it was to push him away. But her fingers curled into his tunic instead, holding him there.
“Tomorrow,” Erik whispered, his face so close she could feel his breath against her lips. “Tomorrow ye’ll be mine. But taenight...”
“Taenight what?”
“Tonight, I should leave.” But he didn’t move. Didn’t step back. His eyes were locked on her mouth with an intensity that made her knees weak. “Before I dae somethin’ we’ll both regret.”
The words hung between them, a dare and a plea all at once. Claricia’s heart hammered against her ribs. This was madness. Tomorrow they’d be bound by duty, by crown, by contract.
But taenight… taenight we’re still enemies… Still strangers. Still…
Erik’s mouth was a breath away from hers when footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.
He pulled back immediately, the spell shattering. His expression went carefully blank, though his chest rose and fell like he’d been running.
“Lock the door after me,” he said roughly. “Dinnae open it fer anyone. Understood?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
He crossed to the door in three long strides, yanked it open, then paused. “The wedding’s at midday tomorrow. Liv will come tae help ye dress.”
“Erik—”
But he was gone before she could finish, the door closing behind him with finality.
Claricia stood frozen for a long moment, her hand pressed to her thundering heart. Then, with shaking fingers, she moved to the door and turned the lock.
The sound echoed in the empty chamber, somehow final and irrevocable.
She leaned her forehead against the wood, trying to catch her breath, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Erik had been furious when he’d found her in the North Wing. Furious and… afraid? The way he’d grabbed her, the panic beneath his anger—it hadn’t felt like rage at being disobeyed.
