Page 44 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

She should’ve been horrified. She should’ve protested. Felt shame. And those instincts were there, but they weren’t the ones making her heart beat heavy against her panties as she pressed her thighs together.

There was a paper-thin line between pain and pleasure, and Argos had somehow hit the mark.

Well…she had wanted his hands.

She tightened the muscles in her pelvis against the sensation, trying to force the pulsing away. But, thankfully, something distracted her from that. A certain…lack of pain.

“You’re not going to hit me again?” she asked, trying and failing to keep a tremble from her voice.

And then she yelped, closing her eyes and bracing as he dropped her onto her back. One unenthusiastic slap wasn’t punishment. Neither was being dropped onto a luxuriously cushioned bench. He could’ve thrown her onto the floor if he’d wanted to. She wished he had—being spanked was humiliating enough without being aroused by it.

“Odious man!” Theora forced herself not to rub her aching bottom as she shoved herself to her feet, her face burning with an angry blush. “How dare you put your hands on me, you unruly savage—”

Theora’s heart staggered as Argos laid his open palm against her chest, the curve between his thumb and finger at the base of her neck, and cornered her up against the window. Just like with that spank, he’d barely tried, and yet she had to catch her breath, the wind nearly knocked out of her. He was stronger than any man needed to be—a trait she’d thought she would be watching him use on the enemy, not experiencing firsthand.

And yet, just like with that spank, she felt warmth spread between her legs.

Why, whenever he handled her, did her body insist on betraying her?

Argos leaned his forearm against the glass above her head, his body heat a stark contrast to the cold window at her back. There was a more-than-annoyed rumble in his chest as he said, his voice low, “If you don’t want me to catch the next train home, you are never to speak to me that way again. Do you understand?”

She was shocked to hear that his response was so…reasonable. She felt ashamed of herself for what she’d called him—even though it was only out of anger, it was still inexcusable. And all she wanted to do was finish touching herself, but she desperately forced that thought to the back of her mind, even if her body remembered. Because she’d be damned before she let anyone, least of all a Warrior, dictate to her.

“Remember who you threaten, Warrior,” she warned, her heart pounding, “Now release me. And perhaps your punishment for mishandling your queen will be lenient.”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression a mix of anger and something else, and Theora wasn’t sure if his next words were a question or a challenge. “Why don’t you make me?”

It was a valid question, because…she could. With one command word from her, he would release her, whether he wanted to or not—his Honor gave him no choice. And something about that fact, even through her anger, even through his, made her feel…safe? No, she couldn’t have actually felt safe with this brute of a man threatening her.

But, Sovereign, maybe she did. No one had ever touched her this way…possessed her in this way. And something about that, combined with the truth that she could stop him at any time…

Pull yourself together.

Except it wasn’t so far out of reach, was it? They were technically married, if only according to Warrior ritual. He was all hers for the next week. She could let him do things to her if she wanted to. She could experience this marriage fully—or almost, as long as they didn’t consummate. If anything, it would make acting like a loving couple that much easier.

But that was far too dangerous, getting attached. It wasn’t as if she could keep him when this was all over. Besides, Argos was an ill-mannered, arrogant, insolent, infuriating…

The less contact of this sort they had over the next week, the better.

Theora blinked, seeing Argos still leaning close, his hand still warming her chest, her back still pressing against the cool window. He flicked his gaze up and down, assessing her…Her muscles contracted at the look in his eyes, a look that seemed to read her very thoughts.

And when his lips pulled into the slightest grin, she sucked in a breath.

She tore away from him, stumbling a few steps down the hall before facing him. Their gazes were locked, as if the first to blink would be torn to pieces. She felt breathless, glaring up at him.

He had silk weaving. He had his Warrior enhancements. What other sort of wicked magic did this man wield that would possess Theora to lose control of herself so thoroughly?

“I hope you plan on behaving yourself better than that this week,” said Theora, crossing her arms. “As I’ve said before, married couples do not throw each other over their shoulders, and they certainly don’t spank.”

“You didn’t like that?” he asked with an almost-wicked smile on his lips, and fuck, Theora never thought she would have to tap into the extra panties she’d brought in case of emergency so soon.

Theora scowled, compensating for the fact that she was blushing so hard her ears were burning. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I probably deserved that. But now that the score is settled, I suggest the two of us stop being petty and focus on the task at hand.”

“I agree.”

She offered him their salute. As he returned it, Theora felt a slight chill, a ripple, like someone had disturbed the air with a small fan. And suddenly Argos’s touch turned into a grip against her face. Suddenly, there was nothing but violence in Argos’s eyes, and it made Theora’s heart drop into her feet. Shit. He wasn’t being impertinent just to rattle her. She needed to use the charm. Now.

“Cease,” she commanded. Instead of obeying he stepped toward her, and she panicked, stepping back in an attempt to escape him. “Argos, cease!”