I slowly slip her glove from her fingers, and she doesn’t stop me. Not even when I tug the heavy stone from her ring finger and slide the ring into my pocket. She stares at me with eyes that seem to enchant me into doing whatever she asks. She’s always had this power over me,and I’m beginning to realize she always will. She looks down at her bare hand, stretching it in front of us before reaching for her glove and sliding it back on with a muffled huff.
Turning her head, she looks out at the countryside rolling by. “I’m already failing, and I haven’t even taken the throne. I can’t even have a proper wedding.”
I reach for her hand, turning her toward me. “You’re trying. Your people don’t need a marital alliance and a brood of heirs. They need a queen who cares about them—whether they live in Crawford or on the northern coast, whether they have red blood or blue blood. Don’t you see that’s what actually matters?”
She closes her eyes, shaking her head. “I’ve always been told the most important thing I can do is ensure the blueblood line continues—to preserve our family’s lineage—and that the rest can be left to my council. My worth is in making this alliance and leaving a strong legacy.”
Her words disgust me, and I want to shake her, to make her see that she could be so much more than this. She’s been fed this lie all her life, and it’s so deeply ingrained that I don’t know how to untangle the falsehoods she’s turned into truths.
“Gen, you’re like a blossom cursed—cursed to wilt into rot and never bloom into your true potential. If you truly think your worth is as shallow as making an advantageous marriage, then I’ll turn this coach around and bring you back so you can rot with the rest of this forsaken kingdom.”
She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I’m frightened. Nothing has gone according to my plans, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be everything this kingdom needs.”
“Then forge yourself into it! Starting withtaking what you actually want!”
Her expression shifts into something hungry, something I’ve longed to see in her.
There’s the fire I know lives within her, the iron resolve buried beneath years of self-doubt.
“You’re right. You’ve always been right about that,” she says.
Gen shifts on the bench, seizing my shirt and pulling me into a searing kiss. A kiss so powerful I tumble headlong into the unrequited desire I’ve been holding inside for far too long.
32
Genevieve
Ipull myself closer to Kieran, nearly climbing into his lap as I let my tongue dart between our parted lips. His mouth opens to me, and I can’t stop the gasp that escapes as I press against the hard ridges of his body.
I let the feel of him consume me, not even thinking about my curse or the consequences it might have on him. None of it matters—becauseI want him. I want to be devoured by my own insatiable need for him.
He’s always been right: I am a cursed blossom. Cursed never to feel the love I once had. But if I allow myself, I know the only person I can risk my gift with is Kieran. He’s the only one I’ve ever felt safe with. The only one who understands that I canlet myself simply feel what exists between us.
Kieran takes my silk gloves and slowly pulls them off, one finger at a time. When the first glove is gone, he peppers kisses across my fingers,my hand, and up my arm to the crook of my elbow before beginning on the other.
The gesture is worshipful, filled with more reverence than I expected from a man who’s claimed to want to ruin me. That, of course, I’ve always known was never his true intent.
I still don’t understand why he returned when he did. Perhaps even he doesn’t understand his own decision. But it was never to ruin me. To force me to choose myself over the crown, maybe. Or maybe it began as a desire for revenge.
It hardly matters now, with his hands gripping my hips and shifting me into his lap. I clutch at his cravat, loosening it as I unfasten the top few buttons of his shirt. I want to touch him, to feel the heat of his chest and trace the changes in his firm, muscular body.
I can feel the hardness of Kieran’s erection against my inner thigh as his hands roam higher, cupping my full breasts through the delicate fabric and squeezing until my nipples peak.
He lets out a deep rumble, then looks at me intently. He’s handling the fervor of my curse better than I expected—better than anyone ever has. Perhaps it’s because we once were in love, because when he looks at me, it’s with such genuine devotion and attentiveness that I almost believe he still loves me as much as he once did.
“What do you want from me, Gen?”
“What?” The word stumbles from my lips, my hands still pressed against his chest. It’s not at all what I expected him to ask. No one—not even him as an inexperienced, lovesick young man—had ever asked whatIwanted.
He meets my gaze with searing heat. “What do you want? Do you want this? Right now?”
“Isn’t it whatyouwant? My curse doesn’t leave much open for discussion.”
He slides me gently from his lap, his expression so full of concern that I want to turn away in embarrassment. “I’m not going to descend into a beast just because you kissed me and I touched your breasts, Gen.”
I suck in a breath, thinking of how disgusted Leland had been by what my gift made him feel. How must Kieran feel now, knowing that what I’m giving him isn’t what he might feel on his own? Knowing how different this must be from the nights we spent together all those years ago?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “We shouldn’t do this. I know it isn’t like it once was.”
