Even in the hazy shadows of the tavern, Niklaus’s intrigued stare is boring into my spine. The weight of it alone sends a tingle of adrenaline scorching my toes and fingertips.
“Sorry, Marvelan. I’m actually here with my boyfriend.” I point my chin to Niklaus’s best friend, Stark. Broad-backed, long chestnut hair, pale skin, amber eyes, and apparently sporting a huge dick. I’ve chosen my puppet with careful consideration and distinct precision.
Stark and Niklaus have mirroring expressions. Wide eyes. Raised brows.
I smile sweetly to him, holding out the cognac. “Here’s your shot, handsome.”And for the killing blow…I give him the “help me” eyes. What man can resist swooping in and laying false claim to the woman in the tavern who’s getting the most attention? Especially from their sworn swordsman opponent.
Stark takes a second too long to think about this. His glowing amber eyes shift from me to Ralik. My stomach sinks at the possibility of this plan failing miserably. How would I play it off? How would I recover?
“Rotten luck, Marvelan,” Stark says, standing to take the shot out of my hands. “She’s coming home with me tonight.”
I give Ralik an apologetic look as he storms off.
Taking a seat next to my victim posing as a white knight, I delicately place my hand on his thigh, leaning close to his ear.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I breathe against his skin.
Stark freezes up, then clinks his glass against mine. “Need a fake boyfriend tonight to keep these horny men off you, little Valdawell?”
I’m tempted to roll my eyes at the nickname. I’m five foot ten, much taller than the average woman here.
I gaze up at him from under my lashes and nod. “Would you mind?”
Stark is particularly attractive as he nods. Amber eyes, plush full lips, and hair that might be shinier than mine. It goes down to his collarbone, pin straight and tousled to one side.
He’s gorgeous.
Unfortunately, nothing compares to the icy blades that are Niklaus’s searing eyes. His face, holding no shame, is turned toward me. A portrait of disbelief. Raw, unblemished beauty. Disagreement written across his pinched brow.
The sight is victory. It only spurs me on.
“To being your fake girlfriend for the night?” I hold up my glass.
“To making every man in this bar sick with jealousy.” He smiles, tossing back the shot.
Now that I have a solid buzz, keeping my face emotionless as I let the fire slip down my throat is fairly easy. However, even I know I shouldn’t have taken this next shot. The fear of getting too happy, too friendly sits unwelcomed on the precipice of this plan.
“How should we keep up the ruse of convincing everyone here that we’re together?” I ask, pulling the hem of my dress down an inch.
Keep your faculties, Sapphire.
“Well,” Stark sits up a little straighter, “I’d normally have my girlfriend sit in my lap.”
I must be a fucking wizard.
“I guess I could—”
“No.” Niklaus’s silky voice cuts through my buzz.
Stark shoots him with a grimace. “And you can shut the fuck up.”
“I said no,” Niklaus repeats, stroking Mabel Rose’s thigh.
Ha!Faculties gone.
I pop up from my seat, straighten my dress, and slide onto Stark’s lap like a lady. Right hand clasping his neck, I take his wrists and circle them around my legs and waist. All while facing Niklaus and the traitor.
Does he see right through this? Without a doubt.
