Page 238 of Reign

Of course she’d like that.

Throne is already there. He sits near the private viewing area with a glass in one hand, relaxed in the careless way that has fooled better men into thinking he’s harmless. His gaze finds mine first.

Then it moves to Elena.

Her legs.

Her mouth.

The bracelet.

The corner of his mouth lifts.

I feel the change in myself immediately. Silent. Hot. Possessive.

This was the point. Elena needed to see him. She needed to understand the difference between the idea of Throne Kingston and the reality of him.

That doesn’t mean I have to enjoy him looking at her.

When he rises and starts toward us, I slide my hand from Elena’s back to her waist.

She leans closer to my side, her voice dropping into the soft, scandalized whisper she uses when she’s judging someone and pretending she isn’t.

“He’s huge,” she murmurs. “That man’s muscles have muscles.”

“Should I add that to his qualifications?”

Her eyes widen. “No. I was alarmed.”

“You sounded impressed.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

She looks back at Throne. “I still didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

“Good.”

Her eyes slide toward me. “You sound jealous.”

“And yet you’re still standing too far away.”

She steps fully into my side without arguing.

Something in me settles.

Throne stops in front of us, amused and already too aware.

“Diablo,” he says.

“Kingston.”

His gaze drops to Elena with interest. “And this must be Elena.”

My hand tightens at her waist.

“Elena Amato,” she says, extending her hand.