Thorne runs his hand over his jaw. “I’m starting to see how this task of yours has mutual benefits.”
I hold his gaze, trying to hide the fact that there’s a deeper reason I’ve chosen our mission. If I can break the curse and marry Monty Phillips in the same breath, I’ll regain my parents’ love and respect as soon as they wake. I won’t have to see fear in their eyes when they look at me. Instead, they’ll be proud of me for making the sacrifice that saved them, not just from the curse, but in every way they described. My wedding will earn them the respect of their human subjects and provide them the funds they need to wipe away their debt before the collectors out them for it. They’ll be so impressed with what I’ve done, they’ll forget they were afraid of me.
That is, assuming my bond with Thorne breaks along with the sleeping spell.
Thorne releases a slow breath. “What are your terms, nemesis?”
My heart races with victory. I’ve got him!
“You will escort me to Sandalwood Manor and remain my companion and advocate until my marriage to Monty Phillips is finalized, which must take place in less than two weeks’ time.” I swallow the irritation that crawls up my throat. The fire that rages against my own terms. “You will lie for me when I tell you to. You will cast me and my family in a favorable light at all times. You will act as my patron and provide everything I may need—”
“Your patron? As in you expect me to financially provide for you?”
I cut him a glare. “It’s not like I have anyone else to do so at this time, and Monty Phillips must be convinced there’s nothing amiss with my family. I might need clothing. Ballgowns. A wedding dress. Anything Lord Phillips expected my father to provide.”
“Your parents have their own coffers, you know.”
“I’m not going to take money from them while they’re asleep.” A sharp pain strikes my heart, and I rush to say, “More than I already have, that is.” The relief at correcting my almost-lie is instantaneous. Technically, I didn’t take anything from my parents. Mr. Borisgaveme a small purse from the royal funds, but only enough to get me to Gibbous Peak and provide food and lodgings. But when it comes to fae magic, intent and belief are key, and there’s a part of me that believes accepting the funds was akin to stealing.
He rolls his eyes. “Aside from playing matchmaker, babysitter, and financial provider, what other terms do you insist on?”
“The final term is that you won’t use our…bond, or whatever it is, to make demands of me. You won’t force me to do anything against my will.”
“Ah, but that takes all the fun out of our relationship.”
“We don’t have arelationship. We will be nothing but allies.”
A corner of his lips quirks as his gaze sweeps over my form. “So do you always pleasure yourself in the company of men you aren’t in a relationship with? I won’t judge. I’m just curious.”
His words send such a violent shock through me, I almost lose hold of my daydream. How dare he bring upthat one dream! I dig my nails into my palms to anchor my control. My cheeks flush, but I manage to bark a cold laugh. “Don’t act like I was the only participant that night. I watched you come undone before my very eyes. I heard your strangled words as you begged to touch me. Watched your lips part as you studied the play of my fingers between my thighs. I’ve seen just as much of you as you’ve seen of me, Thorne Blackwood. Vintarys. Whoever you are.”
Can he hear the tremble in my voice?
Can he see the sweat beading on my brow?
“I’ve seen all you have to offer.” I want to say it wasn’t impressive. That it was laughable. But stars above, that would be untrue. I may be mocking him now, but I’d been just as aroused by his actions in that dream as he was by mine. The heat of that memory burns inside me, almost hot enough to reveal my bluff. I don’t trust myself to speak again, to say anything even close to a lie, so I let my expression do the deceiving. Let my lips curl into a disgusted snarl as I look him over like he’s dirt. When my eyes return to his, I expect to find anger in his expression. Embarrassment. Something other than the seductive heat in his gaze.
“When you put it like that,” he says, “I’m more in favor of the task I proposed. I do enjoy a hate-tryst.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip and watches me from under his lashes. “I could…come undone, as you put it, while your fingers play with me this time. Or, if you’d rather, while your hands tighten around my throat. I think we’d both like that.”
My breaths sharpen as another flash of traitorous heat pools between my thighs. I bite the inside of my cheek, begging my body not to betray me with the shudder that teases the base of my spine. I swallow hard. “Stop trying to change the subject. Agree to my bargain. Need I remind you of your lack of choice?”
The reminder serves me well too, for I’d almost forgotten we had an audience. Thank the All of All Mr. Boris can only hear my side of the conversation. Not that it hasn’t been condemning enough.
His expression hardens as he averts his gaze.
“Do we have a bargain, Mr. Blackwood?” My heart thuds as I await his answer.
“Fine,” he mutters like a curse. “We have a bargain. I agree to your terms.”
I let my lips stretch into a smile, but I rein in my full mirth. “Good. We leave for Sandalwood Manor at noon by train. Buy our tickets. I’ll meet you at the station.”
With that, I release the dreamscape. The alley brightens and sound crashes around us, a rumble of horse hooves, wagon wheels, and distant conversation. Thorne abruptly stumbles back, freed from my daydream. Mr. Boris pockets the knife and takes a protective stance beside me. Without another word, I brush past Thorne and cross the street, Mr. Boris close to my side. I feel Thorne’s burning glare with every step I take, but I don’t dare look back at him. He’s likely trained his features into that smug confidence again, and I’d rather leave feeling like the singular victor.
We reach the building across the street—a cafe at ground level with an inn above it. Mr. Boris escorts me inside a door beside the cafe. We enter the tiny lobby of the inn, then up the stairs to the room I’ve stayed in the last two days. He opens the door to reveal a modest living space. It isn’t much larger than my bedroom at the convent, but it is clean and decorated with the most modern of touches—an elegant tea table set with porcelain cups, a couch upholstered in blue brocade, and a velvet wingback chair. Most importantly, it provides the perfect view of my target, courtesy of the window that showcases the intersection, Blackwood Bakery, and the alleyway behind it.
The feline fae from Nocturnus Palace turns away from the window. Her white cat ears perk upright at the sight of me, and her long white whiskers twitch, as she asks, “He agreed to the bargain, Highness?”
I nod, releasing a sigh of relief at the same time. “Thank you for keeping watch, Minka.”
