“I did it.”
“Well done.” Mission complete. He has opened a bottle of wine, and I have developed a most regrettable crush. “Now, I really must go.”
He holds out the bottle to me, giving it a shake. “Or you could stay.”
“Or I could stay.”
Step Four: Don’t stay.
My feet remain planted on the grass, the sun beating my brow as I stare at that bottle, knowing I should go but not wanting to.
Why am I hurrying to spend more time alone?
I accept the bottle and take another drink, the taste barely registering.
Step Five—or is it Six? Heavens, I’ve lost track. Either way, one should steer clear of intimate topics, especially when inebriated.
Let’s see . . .
The weather. That’s straightforward, isn’t it? “It’s hot today, isn’t it?” Might even be hotter than the hottest day in July.
Maddox shoots to his feet, then catches himself on his railing. “There is a fountain.”
Architecture. Another harmless topic. Perfect.
“Come. I’ll show you.” He takes my hand, and I try not to think too much about it because he’s only keeping me from falling on my face as we race through the garden to where the royal fountain awaits.
“Very pretty.” Not sure why he felt the need to show me this, but I appreciate the way the water glides down the golden willow branches as they dip toward the aquamarine pool below.
Maddox plops right onto the pool’s edge and starts unlacing his boots.
Oh.Oh?—
Now I understand. “I don’t think this fountain is meant for bathing.”
He drags off his second boot, discarding it next to the first. “Ever does not mind.”
I’m not so sure about that.
Although the water does look inviting. Perhaps a little dip, just to get my feet wet. That should be enough to cool me down. It is unbearably hot outside, and watching Maddox bend at the waist to roll his trousers to his knees doesn’t help my spiking temperature.
I kick off my slippers and step over the low wall, joining Maddox in the water. The water soothes and cools as it laps against my shins, drenching my skirts. I don’t even care. The wetter they are, the cooler they’ll be for the walk back home.
“Maddox?” A deep shout reverberates through the garden.
Maddox twists toward the sound, his eyes as round as saucers. “Shit.”
Why shit? “I thought you said Everett wouldn’t mind.”
Instead of answering, he laces our hands once more, dragging me toward the golden willow at the center of the fountain. Water cascades over us both as we duck beneath the dripping branches and press ourselves against the golden trunk at our backs.
A bubble of laughter rises in my throat.
If someone had asked my plans for today, it certainly wouldn’t have included wading into the middle of Castle Rose’s ancient fountain, hiding from the bloody king.
Everett calls for Maddox again, and my grinning partner in crime holds a finger to his lips, urging me to keep silent.
I remain still, listening for the king’s approach.
