Page 102 of When the Sky Breaks

“Mrs. MacCairn,” I corrected, before continuing. “If you’d like to keep it that way, just let me get back to my evening. And don’t report any of this back to Iksura. Otherwise I can ensure you and the entire moose population of Maine get intimately acquainted. They’re a nightmare in rut I’ve heard.”

And with that I shoved him off me and strode back over to Neal and Ansel. Ansel was holding back laughter.

“Did you just threaten him with a sexually frustrated ungulate?” Ansel asked.

But I didn’t get a chance to answer. Neal took my hand and started walking. “I need a minute with my wife.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked as Neal pulled me down a quiet hallway, trying doorknobs along the way.

“You need a break,” Neal said, “and I need to show my appreciation.”

“Appreciation?” I raised an eyebrow as Neal found an unlocked door and pulled me inside.

It was an office—a little dusty, a little disorganized, but nice enough—probably the Steward’s. Neal locked the door behind us and backed me against the desk.

“You were spectacular,” he breathed against my neck, “and I am eternally impressed by you.”

He kissed along the bare skin at my collarbone. Heat flooded through me.

“We can’t!” I protested. “We’re supposed to be diplomatic!”

“When have you ever cared about that?” Neal asked, lifting me so I was sitting on the desk. “You threatened a man with a bull moose in rut not five minutes ago. We are far past diplomacy.”

“But it’s not our house.” The words said protest, but everything in my tone suggested I wanted him to keep going. He’d pick up on it. Hopefully.

“You’re the sovereign,” Neal reminded me. “Eminent domain.”

I chuckled then gasped as he knelt between my knees, pulled up my dress, and started to kiss along the skin above my stocking, up the inside of my thigh. I braced one hand on the desk behind me and fisted the other in his hair.

“You,” Neal breathed between kisses, “are the most fascinating, brilliant, and utterly insane woman I’ve ever met.”

“Go on,” I murmured as his lips trailed upward. I was half listening, half caught in how good that felt.

“And I am eternally grateful to our esteemed parents for arranging this marriage,” Neal said. “Because if they hadn’t I would have missed out on . . .”

And then there was a sharp, insistent knock at the door. We both froze. Neither of us spoke.

“I know you’re in there!” Ansel’s voice was curt, sharp, all business.

“We’re busy,” Neal protested.

“I know that too!” Ansel said. I heard the lock break.

It was a split second before Ansel barreled into the office, fuming.

“We have a situation,” he said as Neal tugged my dress back into place.

“And it couldn’t wait five minutes?” Neal protested.

“I was finally having a nice time!” I added.

“There’s a Himalayan gryphon on a rampage. It’s killed three people,” Ansel said, rubbing his temples.

“Oh,” I said, letting Neal help me off the desk. “No I guess that couldn’t wait five minutes.”

I took Neal’s hand and followed Ansel out. “Why is it here?”

“They imported it from Nepal,” Ansel said. “The hosts. Tried to get it to do circus tricks. They don’t like that.”