Page 218 of The Discount Damsel

“He’s been very, very repressed.”

Hidden. Afraid to trust someone like her. He’d been convinced there was no nobility to be found amongst the ruling class, just self-centered greed.

Millie had proven him so, so wrong.

In her love, he was safe. He wasn’t a freak, wasn’t worthless. He was safe to be vulnerable, to rely on her support whether in celebration or failure. She was a rock, unwavering and true. He could dare again. Discover. He would never stop being grateful. He was hers, always.

Millie guided his mouth back to hers, and when their lips met, she did something utterly devilish with her tongue that sent a shudder straight to his toes. Bradley pulled back, his eyes dark as shady forest pools. “Not here,” he rasped.

He made to take her hand, but she backed up a step.

“One moment.” She fished around in her reticule and withdrew a small yellow gem strung on a fine gold chain. She quickly fastened it around her neck and shook her hair behind her shoulders. “Ready.”

“What?” was all he could think to say.

“Oh! It’s a contraceptive charm—standard issue for princesses. Can’t be whelping anything but a legitimate heir, you know.” She lifted her eyebrows expectantly. “You are planning to ravish me senseless and ruin me for all other men, aren’t you?”

“Quit telling me my business, Tula,” he growled, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re so bossy.”

“You mispronounced ‘eager.’”

She yelped when he swatted her backside, but it quickly turned into a giggle. Bradley snorted a laugh, took her hand, and raced back into the workroom.

The two stole kisses all the way down the stairwell, dancing around the hermit crabs and their glowing shells, sneaking past their friends planning the party in the kitchen, and came to a halt on the landing outside Bradley’s suite.

He pushed open his bedroom door, encouraged her with a little tug. “Come in. Please.”

Millie’s heart swelled. The grumpy sorcerer apprentice, Mr. Prim, Proper, Pole Up His Ass, was inviting her into his space. Welcoming her.

Grinning, she followed him inside.

What happened after the door locked behind them was a lot of laughter, many curses concerning corset strings, a good deal of fumbling, one shiv hairpin falling loose and skewering the rug inches from Bradley’s bare toes, but finally the two were stripped down to naught but their knickers. Which just so happened to match.

When Millie bent down to gather her clothes and hurry them off to the hamper, Bradley scooped her into his arms.

“But you hate it when I leave my clothes scattered about!”

“And I love it that you remembered. Leave it.”

“Mr. Donmarin,” she said, scandalized, “what would your obsessive compulsive disorder have to say about that?”

“It’s already lodged a formal complaint.”

She giggled. “And you’re just going to ignore it?”

“I’m prioritizing another compulsion at the moment.” He carried her to the bed and pressed her back against the quilt, crushing his mouth against hers.

Before he could kiss her again, Millie hooked his arm, twisted, and rolled him onto his back in one fluid movement.

“Is this how it’s going to be between us, then?” Bradley sighed from his position beneath her, his hands trapped by hers above his head.

Her eyes danced as they tracked over his unruly black curls and the broad expanse of his chest stretched out underneath her. He was gorgeous and hers. “Frequently. And—” She cut herself off, a wicked smile curving her full lips.

His teasing expression narrowed with suspicion. “What?”

“I just realized, Mr. Donmarin, that I have finally passed the last course in my pirate studies. Seduction 101. You, sir, are out of your cufflinks and clothes.”

“This is very true, though I wasn’t wearing any cufflinks.” He cocked his head to the side against the pillow. “Do you think your performance has earned you a Satisfactory or Exemplary grade?”