“You must need glasses, Captain. The stone is massive,” I replied, taking a rather large gulp of wine. My eyes landed on Cynthia again. Her red hair spun in the distance as she danced with the same guard. She looked genuinely happy, and I couldn’t help but grin.
When I turned back, Jeremy was still staring intently at my mother. “Jeremy?” I called, snapping him out of his thoughts. His expression had become unreadable, but he quickly shook off whatever was on his mind, offering me a soft smile.
“Apologies,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. Before I could respond, he took my glass from my hand and set both drinks on a nearby table. “Care for another dance?” he asked, extending his hand.
I smiled, slipping my hand into his as we returned to the dance floor.
The hours seemed to blur together, and I was surprised by how easily I began to enjoy myself with Jeremy. It was strange to see him so relaxed. At one point, Cynthia playfully bumped into us on the dance floor, and after a shared laugh, she stayed by our side for most of the night. Her presence made the conversation flow easier, and I was secretly grateful for the additional company.
Duke Atticus had tried to steal a dance, but Cynthia thankfully intervened by ‘accidentally’ spilling wine over his perfectly tailored white pants. This earned Cynthia an earful from the duke in response, but thankfully, he just stalked off into the crowd with no further punishments.
At the far side of the room, the other dukes and duchesses sat, their faces almost bored as they exchanged occasional glances and hushed words. They took turns spinning onto the dance floor, but only with each other. Despite their aloofness, I couldn’t shake the feeling that their eyes were never far from me. It wasn’t unusual for them to watch, but tonight… it felt different.
Duchess Katerina met my gaze then, her smile slow and deliberate. In my opinion, she was the prettiest of them all. Tonight, she wore a large pastel green gown, its edges trimmed with delicate white lace. Her raven-black hair cascaded in long waves over her shoulders, and her olive skin, flawless and dewy, seemed to glow in the candlelight.
Her large hazel eyes fixed on me with unsettling precision, the weight of her gaze unnerving as I returned a small smile in her direction.
I tried to ignore the feeling, focusing instead on the music, the chatter, and the swirling colors of the dance floor, but the weight of her gaze lingered like an invisible thread.
Jeremy seemed completely at ease, his laughter warm and effortless as we chatted with Cynthia and her date.
As the night stretched on, I found myself drawn to him, unable to look away. Maybe it was the wine, but I couldn’t stop myself from staring. I kept admiring the way his cheek dimpled whenever he smiled, the slight tension in his jaw when he noticed Atticus’s gaze drifting our way. The way his lips, full and inviting, parted just the slightest bit whenever his eyes met mine. And those eyes, gods, those molten gold eyes that seemed to catch the light in a way that made them burn brighter than any I’d ever seen.
Jeremy met my gaze across the table, one brow raising in quiet question. My cheeks burned, as I realized I’d been staring far too long.
“I think I should call it a night,” I murmured, standing from the table.
Jeremy nodded without hesitation, rising to stand beside me. Cynthia flashed me a knowing smile as we exchanged our goodbyes, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes in response. Jeremy's fingers brushed mine as we made our way through the crowd, then curled around my hand, squeezing gently as he guided us through the crowd and toward the quiet hallway beyond.
We walked in a comfortable silence, the soft sound of our footsteps the only thing between us. His hand in mine was warm, and I couldn’t help but savor the comforting sensation of his touch. He led me through the dimly lit corridors, up the stairs, and toward my room, the tension between us growing with each step.
As we reached my door, I reluctantly slid my hand from his grasp and opened it with a slight creak of its hinges. I stepped inside, the cool air of the room immediately making me long for the warmth of his touch. I turned to face him, forcing a small half-smile.
“This was… unexpectedly fun,” I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
Jeremy stepped forward suddenly, closing the gap I had just created. The abruptness made me stumble, but before I could steady myself, his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. I didn’t resist—my lips parted, and the space between us seemed to thrum with energy.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “It was, indeed, Princess,” he murmured, meeting my gaze with half-lowered lashes. My cheeks burned, and instinctively, I bit my lower lip. His gaze followed the movement, and his golden eyes smoldered.
Heat surged through me, pooling low in my core, and before I could think twice, our lips were crashing together.
Chapter 9
Zara
Our mouths collided in a bruising embrace, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. His lips were soft and warm, and the brief touch of our tongues sent a spark through me. But then, just as suddenly, Jeremy pulled away.
My eyes flew open in surprise, locking onto his.
His golden gaze seemed distantand conflicted. He removed his hand from behind my head and took a step back. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his hands fell away from me.
Hurt and rejection surged through me, and Jeremy must have seen it flicker across my face. Hunger blazed in his eyes, feral and unrestrained.
“I’m going to hell anyway,” he muttered darkly, slamming the door shut with a forceful palm before launching himself toward me.
Our mouths collided once more, fiercer this time, and my heart pounded in my chest. His hand found the back of my neck again, and I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabricof his emerald jacket as I pulled him closer. A low, sensual growl escaped him as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing my lower lip. I gasped breathlessly.
Jeremy lifted me, my legs going around his waist, and my stomach heated, the sensation of his mouth on mine overwhelming and…no…not heated, twisted.
