If getting caught was inevitable, Roa needed to be caught on her own terms. If she could give these councillors a reason to believe the king and queen hadn’t heard them, that they hadn’t even been listening, it might give her a chance to get out of here alive.
“That kiss I owe you?” She grabbed a fistful of Dax’s shirt, peering up at him. “It’s time to collect it.”
His brows knit in confusion. “Rightnow?”
Roa nodded. She intended to make it look like the king was here doing what he did best: seducing a girl.
The voices were splitting up. Searching the aisles. Getting closer.
They were out of time.
Before Dax’s hesitation could ruin everything, Roa dug her fingers into his hair and captured his mouth with hers.
He tasted like peppermint tea. Roa kissed him harder, forcing his mouth open. The warmth of him flooded her.
And then the voices were in their aisle.
Finally understanding the game, Dax stopped hesitating.
He kissed her back, his teeth scraping her lip. His warm hands cupped her thighs, lifting her up. Roa looped her arms behind his neck, wrapping her legs around him.
As their hips connected, they both drew in a breath. Their eyes opened. Their gazes caught.
Roa’s heart pounded like a drum as his palms slid slowly up under the linen of her dress. A startling heat coursed through her. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him closer.
Pressing his forehead to her cheek, Dax bit her throat gently. Roa made a soft sound of surprise. He bit her again, and Roa closed her eyes, trying not to forget this was a role she was playing.
Trying not to drown in him.
But the harder he kissed her, the deeper he pulled her under. His hands moved fervently over her skin, flooding her senses, until she couldn’t think.
She only remembered the councillors when one of them called out in surprise.
Dax froze, his grip on her tightening.
Their eyes flew open at the same time.
Roa quickly unhooked herself, flushing with heat. Not even needing to pretend.
“Well”—Dax stepped in front of his wife, blocking her from view—“thisis embarrassing.”
His voice was light as he ran both hands through his curls.
“My king...” came that gruff voice.
Roa pressed her cheek between Dax’s shoulder blades, her body warm in all the places he’d touched her. Her hands fisted in his tunic as she listened to his racing heart, trying desperately to quiet the hunger prowling through her.
The man who spoke cleared his throat and tried again. “My king, what are you doing here?”
A pause.
“What amIdoing here?” Roa felt something shift in Dax. If he’d truly been nervous a moment ago, he wasn’t any longer. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“One would think...”
“Is this not my private library?”
“Yes, but...”
