Or…how hedidsound.
Before what happened on the roof.
It isn’t that he’s been cruel, just distant, even when he’s next to me. What else can I expect after I rejected his plea to end our bet? Bloody hell, how I wanted to do exactly what he asked. The way he stepped close, taunting me with the wicked things he said he’d have to do with someone else, nearly had me giving in to him.Beggingto give in to him.
Which is exactly why I refused. William and I are dangerous for each other, and we both know it. The more I’m with him, the more I want to be with only him. The less I want to earn points in our bet with anyone else. Which works well enough for me. If I take not a single new lover, and William does the same, I win.
And William loses.
All he wants is to play fair, and part of me wants that too.
So why can’t I be a fair and reasonable person?
I glance at his profile, at the grin that doesn’t meet his eyes, at his stiff posture, curated to look casual while being anything but. So badly I want to see his carefree smile again, to feel his sizzling touch, to taste his lips, and explore all the parts of him we’ve kept hidden thus far. I want to drown in that giddy fluttery feeling he inspires within me.
That, of course, reminds me of all the reasons I can’t give William what he wants. What my heart wants.
Because winning the contract is more important than romance. I can never—will never—put romantic notions ahead of my career. That was my vow after Dennis Feverforth. I may not be magically bound to honor promises like the fae are, but I know it’s for the best that I do.
I need to get over William and win this damn bet.
My lashes flutter open,but my view is blurry. The rolling motion of the train continues but the sound of chattering no longer assaults my ears. I blink a few times, my mind clearing before my eyes do. I must have fallen asleep.
I shift, finding something soft yet firm cushioning the side of my head. I lift my face from my makeshift pillow…only to discover it’s William’s shoulder. My body flushes from head to toe. Without looking at me, he hands me something. My spectacles. I set them in place, and my vision sharpens. We’re alone; Monty and Daphne are gone, as are our two guests, though plenty of passengers remain in the car around us. Perhaps our companions went to the dining car. I straighten, putting inches of space between me and William as I tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. To my horror, my fingers brush a smear of moisture on my cheek. Mortification floods me as I realize I was drooling in my sleep. On William.
He hands me something else. A silk handkerchief.
Everything inside me wants to disappear into a dark void, but I accept the cloth and dab it over the side of my face. Then, wincing, I wipe at the dampness on William’s jacket.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
His eyes meet mine, a grin on his face that’s somehow wry and sweet at the same time. He places a gentle hand over mine to halt my scrubbing. “It’s all right,” he says, laughter in his voice.
I freeze, my heart melting, thudding, flipping beneath the glow of that grin. The first genuine expression I’ve seen him make since we left Lumenas. The first real laugh. If that isn’t enough to make me hate myself and my stubborn pride, I don’t know what is.
As he holds my gaze, his amusement fades, a sadder smile taking its place. My chest tightens and I’m pierced by a sudden need to bring that sweet grin back. Even if I have to kiss it there. Even if I have to give up everything?—
“The next stop is ours,” Monty says, shattering the moment.
I startle away from William as Monty and Daphne settle across from us, pastries in hand and paw. William removes his fingers from over mine and promptly averts his gaze. Damn it. How close was I to kissing him just now? And in a public space, no less.
“We’ll be in Darlington Hills in less than an hour,” Monty says.
I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes, lest there’s a knowing look in them, and instead turn my attention to the window. My breath catches as a field of sunny daffodils speeds by beneath a perfectly blue sky painted with the fluffiest clouds I’ve ever seen. I knew our next signing was in the Spring Court, but I must have been asleep when we crossed the border. Now I take it all in. The fields of flowers. The bright groves of fruit trees. Snowcapped mountains in the distance.
It’s just the distraction I need from the heat of William’s closeness. From the memory of that smile.
William is backto his brooding poet persona as we reach our destination in Darlington Hills. Meanwhile, I’m enchanted, my eyes glued to the windows of our coach as I admire the town. It’s different from the others, the buildings comprised of dark rich woods with sloping tiled roofs. Along the sidewalks and between every building are blossoming trees in the most stunning array of pink, red, and white. The fresh scent of cut grass and cherry blossoms fills the coach.
Just when I think I couldn’t be more impressed with the Spring Court, we arrive at our hotel.
My mouth falls open as we exit the coach in a circular courtyard before the largest tree I could ever imagine. It’s as wide as a mansion and as high as the tallest building in Lumenas. Its trunk consists of twisting, twining wood that curves to shape ornate windows, doors, and balconies. Its branches curve overhead in an enormous canopy, bedecked with pink blossoms. There’s a natural flow to the structure—a living, breathing architectural feat.
“This is our hotel?” I say with a gasp.
Monty takes a drag from a freshly lit cigarillo. “The Darlington Hills Hotel. Host of this year’s Faerwyvae Literary Society Spring Court Gala.”
When I heard our next tour stop wouldn’t be a signing but a charity ball, I never imagined it would take place in a location such as this. I pictured something more like the Verity Hotel in the Winter Court. Not that I’m complaining. Finding more and more reasons to be amazed with Faerwyvae is exactly what Ineed. A reminder of how badly I want to win the contract at all costs.
