Monty’s head snaps back. He stares at me for a moment before his lips curl into a crooked grin. “I like seeing that fire from you. An essential element for my future wife, but do save it for your demonstration.”
“I said I’m not—”
“She’s not kissing you.” Thorne strides over to Monty with slow yet forbidding steps. “Remember who you’re talking to. She’s a princess, Monty.”
He rolls his eyes. “It won’t be on the lips. I know better than to request such a vulgar act from a royal. Besides, I never said she was kissingme.”
My pulse quickens, my eyes flashing toward Thorne. His are already on me. I look back to Monty. “You don’t mean…”
Monty tilts his head in a way that he probably thinks is cute and coy. It isn’t. “Why do you think I wanted to play this game with the two of you alone? You didn’t think I requested an audience so we could air our darkest indiscretions, did you? That’s not how human high society operates, Rosey. Better get used to it if you’re so determined to marry into this world of false smiles and platitudes.”
There’s a bitter edge to his words, one that makes me wonder if there’s a layer to him that I’ve yet to see. Even Thorne looks surprised, brow furrowed as he studies his friend.
Monty waves a dismissive hand. “I’m getting off topic. We’re here to play a game. The kissing game. I want to see how well Princess Rosaline can use those lips of hers, but—as you learned during our dancing game—I like to watch more than participate. So…go on. Show me what you can do.”
I’ve never seen Thorne so tense. His breathing so shallow. “You don’t have to do this,” he says through clenched teeth.
He’s right. I don’t have to do this. I promised myself as much this morning when I decided I wouldn’t put any effort into Monty’s game anymore or do anything I don’t want to do.
But as I take in Thorne’s posture, a dark thrill stirs inside me. He’s…flustered.
Well, that’s what he gets for having done the very same to me earlier.
It’s my turn for revenge.
On swift feet, I close the distance between us, place one hand on his shoulder, and stand on my toes. His breath hitches as I plant a soft kiss on his cheek. He’s still frozen in place by the time I step back. I give him a triumphant grin, but it falters as I realize how rapidly my heart races, how warm my lips are where they grazed Thorne’s flesh.
Monty releases a groan. “No. Gross. That was so boring.”
Thorne shakes himself from his stupor. “She did what you asked.”
No, I think to myself.I did what I wanted to do.
“That’s not what I asked,” Monty says. He runs his hands through his curly hair in an agitated manner until his expression brightens. He gestures toward the chair behind him. “I’ve got it! Sit down, Thorne. Rosey, sit on his lap.”
“His lap?” There goes the smooth composure I held when I kissed Thorne’s cheek.
Thorne shakes his head and starts toward the door. “This is ridiculous. I’ve had enough, Monty.”
“Have you? And here I thought you wanted to help me and the princess find our happily ever after.”
Thorne pulls up short and rounds on his friend. “I never said that.”
“Yet you’ve been so accommodating,” Monty says. “Why stop now?”
Thorne’s eyes meet mine. I feel a strange pulse between us, and it isn’t the desire that has ignited inside me. It’s a neutral energy, one that seems to tug Thorne closer. Only when Thorne returns to us and slumps in the chair does the tug disappear.
I realize then what that pulse was. It’s the magic of the bargain we made. Monty may have been taunting Thorne with his words, but he’s right. Thorne and I made a bargain, and he is bound by his promise to ensure my marriage to Monty proceeds as planned. With fae magic, intent and belief are everything. If Thorne thinks playing this game will aid our task, then he has no choice but to participate. Refusing will compromise the terms of our bargain.
I know I shouldn’t revel in Thorne’s current state of helplessness, but as I watch him shift awkwardly in the chair, eyes pinned on me, my earlier thrill returns. In this moment, he’s at my mercy. Stars, does that feel exhilarating.
“Now, Rosey, sit—”
I march over to Thorne before Monty can finish and plant myself in his lap. Not because Monty wants me to. This isn’t about him at all. Monty may think he’s in charge of this game, that it’s between him and me, but Thorne is the one I’m playing with. This is yet another round ofwho can make the other flustered, and I’ve never been more certain of a win.
Thorne’s posture goes rigid as he leans into the backrest. I pretend not to notice as I straighten my abundant skirts, smoothing ruffles and leaning over far more than necessary. I keep my shoulders thrown back, ensuring my breasts strain against my bodice as I adjust my position in his lap.
“Yes, beautiful,” Monty says, his voice an unwelcome intrusion. I don’t bother looking at him as he continues. “That’s the position I’d like you to demonstrate your skills in. Now, rules. No kissing on the lips. We’ve already addressed how vulgar that would be, but I do want to see some passion. Woo me. And you can’t touch her, Thorne. Seeing your hands on her will spoil the fantasy for me, so try to move as little as possible. But I want you, princess, to touch him.”
