We paused in front of his office door, and I placed my hand on his sleeve, feeling the warm expanse of skin beneath the fabric.
“About the paper, I was as shocked as you. This wasn’t my intention. They made it seem like I was trying to ensnare you in a love spell. It’s absurd.”
“So, you’re not then?” His gaze dropped to my leather gloves—the gift he’d given me. I probably shouldn’t have worn them.
I tucked my hands behind my back. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need a spell for that. You should know, I have my share of suitors.”
Something dangerous glinted behind his eyes. “Name one.”
Naturally, he’d call my bluff. I fumbled for a name, going all the way back to my childhood to find the only boy brave enough to follow around a budding witch. Too bad I hadn’t seen him in years.
“Trevor, the baker’s son. He’s enamored with me and constantly compliments my stunning beauty and clever intellect.”
Silence met my answer. Derrick stilled except for a noticeable tic in his jaw. I grew bold, spurred on by the dark look in his eyes, and inched closer until the hem of my skirt covered his boots. The air seemed to thicken in the narrow hall.
My voice dipped. “There’s also the blacksmith’s apprentice. I’m very fond of him.”
“What’s his name?” Derrick growled. The rumble sent a shiver through my body. He was so close, I felt the vibration in his chest.
“Are you jealous, Detective? Does the thought of another man pursuing me drive you mad?
“Don’t play games, Tessa. You know what will happen if you lie to me again.”
Anger sparked through me. “Is that right? A man wanting me is a lie?”
His lips parted. The hunger emanating from his stare forced me to question the sanity of provoking him. It also encouraged me to go further and find out what lay on the other side of that look.
“No.” His answer, when it came, made my stomach flip. “It wouldn’t be a lie. It’s more possible than you realize.” His hands circled my waist, bringing me flush against him.
My heart pounded, and liquid heat flowed through my body. There wasn’t anything gentle about the way Derrick gripped my hips. It was like he was staking a claim against my fictional suitors. This wasn’t a game—at least, not one I had any shot at winning—but with his mouth hovering near my ear, he made me want to play.
“I better not see either of them around given our current situation.”
“It’s a blip in the papers.” My mouth felt dry as sand. I wet my lips. “Tomorrow, it will be forgotten.”
“You think the public has such a short memory? I certainly don’t. It’ll take a hell of a lot more than the next day’s news to make me forget this.”
“We’ll have them print a retraction.”
“Not a chance. Besides, it’s too late for that.” Derrick pushed open the door, releasing me at the same time Prince Marcus rose from his chair.
“Tessa, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Please, come in. We need to talk.”
“Your Highness,” I stammered. His presence was a bucket of ice water dousing the simmering heat from the hallway. Liam’s warning echoed in my mind. How was I supposed to tell Derrick what I’d learned with Prince Marcus in attendance? It would have to wait.
“Have a seat, Tessa.” Derrick rounded his desk and waited for us both to be seated before he took his own. There was a whipcord tension in the set of his shoulders. Either he was still affected by our hallway encounter, or he knew what was coming before I did.
Prince Marcus faced me. “It seems we have a situation on our hands, but I think it’s perfect.”
“You do?”
“It’s the kind of distraction we need. It will take the kingdom’s mind off the murder. A relationship between you two will drown out the speculation and keep details of the case off the front page.”
I questioned the prince’s motives, curious to see if he welcomed the distraction too. This was royal propaganda at its finest. Love and murder went hand-in-hand, and if there was anything more salacious than a crime, it was a scandalous romance between a royal detective and a low-born witch.
“Is this what you want?” I held my breath after asking the question, a secret part of me wanting Derrick to say yes and mean it.
“It’s what’s best for the case.” His hands clenched around the edge of the desk. He was following orders. Whatever he wanted wasn’t up for discussion, and it was clear he disapproved. Could I blame him? This went way beyond a simple partnership. Things could get messy.
