Page 70 of Bared

“I’m aware of that, Pixie.” He exaggerated his own emphasis, borrowing some of her irritation to mix with his strained patience.

“You have to imagine it in the same category as one of your American small towns,” she went on. “If the news is more scandalous than a weather update or a runaway pet, it hits the gossip pipeline like a flash flood. If just one wrong person learned that a Cimarron was inquiring about a place to get tied down and spanked, the island would lose forests from the combustion.”

Brick shoved aside his impatience. She’d communicated more than words with all that. Her frustration and sadness were palpable.

“It’s not as simple a place as it looks, is it?” he murmured. “Your island. Your…kingdom.” He cocked his head. “I suppose politics are politics, no matter if the country’s got five hundred or five billion.”

Her composure warmed, if only just a little. “My wise Sir Brickham is starting to get it.”

A gentle chuckle spilled from him too. “Wise? I’m not sure whether to thank you or spank you for that, young lady.”

“You know my preference on that, Sir.”

He sat back a little, already recognizing the danger zone to which they’d started inching again. Goddammit, how he yearned for an updated sit rep from Oz. If Requiemme, Fox, and him were all still stuck at the hospital, he’d be rolling this little vixen over and giving her exactly what she wanted. Right. This. Second.

“Fuck,” he spat, fighting his throbbing cock as much as her sultry stare. Fortunately, the same kind of comprehension crossed Jayd’s face, and she pushed herself to the foot of the lounger. Though the distance helped for a second or two, he was sure that if the couch became a football field, they’d find ways to gravitate back together. At least the erotic fog was thinning from his brain, and he watched some clarity return to her regard, as well.

“You are most right, of course,” she stated, revealing that all the ocean foam in her eyes had migrated to her throat. “Sometimes, I think Evrest would have an easier time governing a larger nation. He has already accomplished so much for Arcadia and is leading us toward many more opportunities for prosperity. The ideas he has for partnering with other countries in our region and beyond…” Her lips curved into a proud smile. “It is astonishing—and exciting.”

Brick doubted he blinked while witnessing the transformation of her whole composure. Though her posture straightened, it was with dignity and not stress. An unmistakable gleam reentered her brilliant eyes. It led to the conclusion that he finally voiced aloud.

“You’re proud of him. Your brother. King Evrest.”

“I am not the only one,” she asserted. “The vast majority of Arcadia’s denizens have embraced the improvements to our lifestyle, despite the small changes they’ve meant for our land and logistical processes.”

“The vast majority,” Brick reiterated. “Which still leaves room for the pesky minority.”

The princess swiveled around. Her chin was still high; her stare was intuitive but incisive. “I am not certain ‘pesky’ is an apt signifier in this case, Sir.”

“Valid point, Pixie.” He leaned back, supporting his head by curling his elbow up against the cushion.

“So you do know more about the Pura than their name.”

“And so do you.”

He prepped himself for a fresh fume from her. She was clearly dangling a line, hoping to reel in more intel about him than the scraps he’d been tossing. But when she averted her gaze, clearly more scared than incensed, his alarm gongs went off.

“Jayd?” He leaned forward again, not subtle about his scowl. “Look at me.” Thank God she didn’t fight him on that. “Now answer me,” he instructed in a lethally low growl. “Have any of those asswipes, Carris included, touched you? Or…hurt you?”

“No.” But her swift answer didn’t provide him with full assurance. Perhaps the opposite. “Not yet, at least.”

Oh, definitely the opposite.

“Which means what?” he bit out.

“Exactly that,” she volleyed. “I am certain they are wary about even breathing my direction, especially because they are confident I shall be traded into their clutches soon enough. But Emme has heard stories from the other palais servants…”

“Stories about what?”

She averted her gaze and wetted her lips. “The bonsuns have…initiations,” she confessed. “They make people…the women and younger men, at least…prove their loyalty to the cause in very specific ways.”

“Fuck.”

“Those are just the whispered rumors, of course,” she inserted. “On top of their more public actions, like kidnapping Brooke and invading the Palais Arcadia itself.”

“Brooke,” he echoed, searching his memory for a clearer reference. “That’s Brooke Valen, right? The daughter of Chase Valen?”

“She is now Brooke Cimarron.” The corners of her mouth kicked up. “If I did not clear that up, my brother Samsyn would have my head on a pike. But you have it right. She is the daughter of the senator from your country, once presumed dead at the treachery of Rune Kavill.”