The air around us grew noticeably warmer. I glanced at Raoul, whose jaw had tightened to the point I worried he might crack a tooth.
“That’s very kind of you,” I said. “But I’m enjoying the tour, and I’m sure Raoul would like to show me the gardens.”
Although he looked a touch irritated. He might be getting tired of showing me around when he had more important things to do.
“I won’t keep you any longer,” Niles said. “Demi told me we’d be meeting later today. I look forward to it.” He smacked Raoul on the shoulder. “Congratulations, cousin. She’s absolutely stunning. That dress is particularly flattering.” His gaze dipped to my neckline again.
Raoul growled. “We should continue.” He steered me away from Niles. “The archives close for the midday meal soon.”
“Don’t let me keep you.” Niles called after us, amusement shining in his voice. “Queen Adele, I look forward to seeing more of you.”
Raoul’s body tensed, his muscles coiling like a spring about to snap. His pace increased, and he practically dragged me down the corridor until we’d turned two corners and Niles was out of sight.
“Are you all right?” I asked, breathless from keeping up with his longer stride.
“Fine.” The word came out clipped.
“You don’t sound fine. You sound angry.” I studied his profile, noting the muscle ticking in his jaw, the flare ofhis nostrils, and the way his free hand had curled into a fist.
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what are you?”
He stopped walking so abruptly I stumbled. His hand shot out to steady me, and for a moment we stood there in the empty corridor, close enough that I could see flecks of dark amber in his eyes.
“Niles is a pain in the ass.” He sighed. “He’s harmless, mostly. But he’s also incapable of not flirting with anything that moves.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “I hadn’t realized he was flirting. I thought he was just being friendly.”
Frustration tinged with amusement flickered across Raoul’s face. “Adele, he stared at your breasts for a full ten seconds while complimenting your dress.”
“Did he?” I glanced down at myself. “Well, they are on display in this gown. I can’t really blame him for noticing.”
He growled again.
I looked up at him, confused. “You’re upset that he noticed my breasts?”
“I’m upset that he commented on them. Multiple times. While touching you.”
“He only touched my hand.”
“He shouldn’t have touched you at all.” Raoul’s fingers flexed on my waist, a gesture that sent a flutter through my belly.
Understanding dawned slowly, like watching the sun burn off the morning fog. “Raoul, are you jealous?”
“No,” he said, too quickly, his eyes not meeting mine.
“You are.” The realization made that strange flutter heat, spreading through my chest. “You’re jealous of Niles.”
“I’m not jealous. I’m not. You and I agreed to aprofessional partnership. What you do or who notices you shouldn’t matter to me.”
“But it does,” I said softly.
His eyes finally met mine, and the heat there made my breath catch. “Yes. It does.”
We stood in the corridor, his hand still on my waist, and the world shifted between us. Whatever this feeling was, it felt significant and terrifying and entirely too appealing.
This was supposed to be simple. A political arrangement full of distance and cordial professionalism.
