My heart lurches. I don’t know what’s wrong with what I said, but it’s something big. Scary big. “I didn’t mean any offense.” I backtrack. “What I meant to say was—”
Luckily, I’m not forced to complete my thought. The steward holds up his hands, brushing away my apology. “Not at all, my lady. I was not referring to her ladyship in any manner. Simply stating that ifsomeonewere to saysomethingaboutM-A-G-I-C-K, it would not turn out in that citizen’s favor.”
The tension in the air dissipates, and it’s only when I feel Kane relax that I release my pent-up breath. I steal a quick glance up at him, glaring with a look that is supposed to say,You should have told me the rules about magick instead of how a lady is supposed to talk. But with my hair falling in my face, I probably look like some sort of sheepdog.
The lock clicks, and with a dramatic, sweeping gesture, the steward pushes the doors wide. I take a moment to drink it all in. The air is rich with the subtle scents of lemon and beeswax. Magnificent candelabra drip with crystals and cast a warm golden glow over the intricate moldings, rich furnishings, and cream walls.
He sweeps past us to the sumptuous velvet drapes that frame the windows opposite the coffee table and chairs set up near the far corner of the room. He picks a piece of lint off the deep-maroon fabric pulled back with tasseled gold cords to reveal the lush greenery and vibrant flowers within the palace gardens beyond.
But one piece of furniture commands my attention. A massive four-poster bed carved from polished dark wood gleams under the soft fire of candlelight. It’s dressed with silken sheets, cloudlike blankets, and a mountain of plush pillows in varying shades of crimson and ruby.
My lungs constrict, and I can’t quite swallow or takea full breath. There’s only one bed, and somehow I don’t see Kane sleeping on the floor.
Sensing my distress, my fake husband leans against a thick column of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face. I swear he’s flexing again because his shirt clings to his muscles like it’s about to rip apart.
The steward opens another ornately carved door that leads into the dressing rooms and bathing chamber, but his voice hums in the background like an old AC unit as I study Kane. He’s not arrogant. At least, not in the same way as Chad or the numbers I have to delete to keep from calling when Trader Joe’s has a sale on rosé. Kane is confident in a way that comes from knowing how strong he is, how capable, how very,verygood.
His dark eye settles on me, and his lips slide into a smile I want to taste. I’m breathless, caught between the desire to run before we’re left alone with only the bed and empty time to fill and the pull of something too delicious and potent to ignore.
“Fawn.” He utters my nickname, and even from across the room his voice leaves my skin tingling and my heart racing. “You’re needed.”
“Whatever for?” I whisper, butterfly soft.
Kane’s smile deepens, and I catch the barely perceptible tightening of the thick muscles of his legs and shift in his stance, a lion ready to pounce.
The steward clears his throat, and I’m suddenly reminded that Kane and I aren’t alone with the bed, our bodies, and the perfect soft lighting. “I thought it would please my lady to know this suite has been prepared with the utmost care by none other than King Lockhart’s personal staff to ensure your comfort during your visitto the kingdom,” he explains, his voice light and airy with pride as he dusts more invisible lint from the heavy curtains.
“Attendants will be at your service to assist in preparing for tonight’s feast, where His Majesty anticipates the pleasure of your company, at which point I shall have the honor of escorting my lady and my lord to the Great Hall.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to hide the fact that I was caught full-on fantasizing about a man I know better than to fall for. “This is…wonderful.”
“King Lockhart will be pleased to hear how my lady has found the rooms.” As he heads back to the door, the steward pauses at my side. He leans in, his eyes gleaming like polished acorns. “Please, Lady Ashwood, if there is anything you need, anything at all, do call upon me personally.”
“Thank you… I’m sorry, what should I call you?”
“McDougall, my lady. At your service.” He folds into another deep bow that’s accentuated by the puff of hair dancing like a ghost on his head.
“I appreciate your help, McDougall. Everything is more than we could have hoped for. Thank you again.”
His posture softens as he returns my grin and nods his thanks. “It is my pleasure to serve, my lady.” He turns to Kane and bows, setting the key on a vase-covered stand on his way out.
The doors close behind him with a discreetclick, and the moment I’ve been waiting for, hoping for, dreading arrives. Kane remains next to the bed, candlelight flickering against his sun-toasted skin.
His eyes follow me as I move to the windows, andmy cheeks warm with a blush I hope he doesn’t notice. Under his gaze, every move I make is amplified, every rustle of fabric a scratch against the silence.
“It looks like we’ll be…quite comfortable here,” I say, trying to look everywhere except at the bed, at him.
“Yes,quitecomfortable.” The weight of Kane’s attention is a caress that trails over my skin and ignites a warmth that, if I’m not careful, will light a fire of need.
I shake my head, anchoring myself to something, anything, resembling rational thought and remind myself that I have a perfectly good, albeit not charged, vibrator waiting for me in my apartment.
“There are enough pillows that you’ll be comfortable when you sleep over there.” I point to the chairs situated across the room.
“Oh no, my dear lady wife, I would never desecrate my marriage vows by leaving your bed empty.” He closes the distance between us with languid strides. “Besides, Little Fawn, you don’t want me there. You want me here,” he says, dragging his salty-sweet thumb along my lips. The air thickens, each second stretching long and firm as my thoughts spin and my boundaries start to melt under the warmth of his touch.
“No, I don’t,” I say, fighting everything within me screaming to submit.
His tongue traces his bottom lip, a sinful smirk playing on his mouth. “That’s nearly the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since we arrived.”
