Page 43 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

She cleared her throat, squirming in her seat. She found herself gripping the fabric at her pelvis, and she quickly released it.

This is insane, Theora.

But…how would he punish her? It wasn’t as if he was allowed to hurt her, not truly, anyway. She attempted to look out the window again, only coming face-to-face with her own blush. No. Of course not. He was bluffing, that was all. He wouldn’t really…

He wouldn’t really…

Theora’s hand was down in the warmth of her underwear before she could think. She let out the smallest pleasured sigh at the discovery that she was wet, her finger easily slipping along her clit. She opened her legs a bit, leaned back in her chair to gain a better angle. She imagined Argos’s hand against her, his strong fingers pressing against the delicate skin of her—

The shift of a train door jolted her back to reality, and she yanked her hand from her skirts, snatching up a napkin from the table to wipe it off. Her heart was thundering as the door of the dining car eased open. She continued to wipe her fingers, as if there were food on them, instead of something she’d rather not reveal. Trying to keep her expression indifferent despite her startled nerves…despite her chest heaving with unfulfilled desire.

She looked up at the giant form standing in the doorway to the dining car, his arm resting on the top of the too-small doorframe. He watched silently as she crossed her legs, and then his gaze shifted over her slowly until their eyes met. Theora forced her breath to steady.

“There she is,” he murmured, and Theora felt her thighs tighten against each other, far too aware of her damp panties.

Remember how he killed the enemy war commander and nearly ruined peace negotiations for you? Think of that instead.

She broke their gaze quickly, lifting her glass. “Would you like something to drink?”

“You’re two minutes late” was all he said.

Theora felt a vein in her temple thrum with her agitated pulse, but she kept her composure. “I was thirsty.”

Argos let out a breath of a laugh. “You were thirsty, alright.”

“And anyway,” she continued quickly, “we have plenty of time before we—”

“Do you think you can escape punishment, Theora, just because you’re a queen?”

His voice was calm. Not threatening, but gently implying something not so gentle. His hands were loose and relaxed, but she knew how strong they were, and it was disturbing how much she suddenly wanted them to take hold of her.

He was getting under her skin on purpose. Challenging her again.

Terrifying her.

…Exciting her.

She shook every emotion from her head and stood, if only to keep herself from squirming. She needed to get some rest. Refocus. Change her damn panties.

“And how do you plan on punishing me? I suppose you believe my walking into the talks with bruises will convince everyone that we’re madly in love?” She left her glass on the table and walked up to him, but he wouldn’t remove himself from the doorway. “Let me pass. I’m tired.”

Argos stood silent for a moment, then stepped fully inside the dining car, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Gin before breakfast?” he asked, but she couldn’t gauge his tone. Not…concerned?

“Oh, don’t be a prude,” she said, waving him off. She would never get used to his unusually powerful sense of smell—but then, alcohol wasn’t really a hard scent to miss, even with an average nose. “It was mostly tonic.”

“So you’re sober?”

“Unfortunately.”

She tried to walk around him, but he stopped her with his arm, her heart faltering with her body. She took hold of his arm but didn’t push him away. His skin was warm…welcoming, despite his threat.

“If you were intoxicated, you’d be free to go.” His voice no longer resembled anything close to concern. “How long this takes is up to you.”

“You have gone completely mad if you think—” Theora let out a stifled yelp as he threw her over his strong shoulder. “Argos, don’t you dare—!” Her words turned into a cry of shock, heat rising in her face at the sting and throbbing aftermath when her husband’s palm collided with her backside.

Holy…Did he just…spank me?