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“Apologies, my lady. But I think she’s hungry.”
“Oh! Thank you,” Vienne told the maid, already reaching out. “I’ll take her.”
Once she had the child cradled in her own arms, she turned back to me. “You don’t mind if I feed her while we play, do you?”
Mind? Mind listening to the sound of suckling as a mouth wrapped around her nipple? Mind knowing her bare breasts would be exposed? Mind watching a soft little hand seeking her flesh, touching her?
I think I went instantly hard.
But I affected a casual shrug and attempted to make a face that said I wouldn’t notice either way. “Whatever the child needs,” I murmured as dispassionately as possible.
“Good.” Her smile was pleased as if I’d passed some kind of test. Then she seated herself, tossed a shawl over her shoulder and tucked the baby beneath.
I settled down across from her and watched, hoping to catch a flash of skin…or more. But, dammit, she was adept at what she did; she was able to keep the entire process concealed from view.
When a disappointed sigh left me, she glanced up. “Do you prefer playing the black or white pieces?” As I opened my mouth to tell her she could choose, she added perfunctorily, “I have it on good authority that you always insist on being black.”
I sat back and cleared my throat, trying not to be selfishly pleased that she’d bothered to learn what color of chess pieces I preferred. Nicolette had probably mentioned it to her in passing; that was all.
Still…
The table was small. We sat so close our knees could brush under it if I didn’t watch myself. Worse yet—or was it better yet?—she was looking right at me. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this. My one true love actually wanted to play chess with me. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
I glanced across the room, where her husband was scowling at us.
Turning back, I croaked, “Yes. I usually choose black.”
“That’s fine,” she said on a nod. “I don’t mind being white. I have better luck with it, anyway.”
I lifted my eyebrows at the challenge in her voice. “Oh, really? Then maybe I should insist on being white, after all.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “You can try, Prince, but I’ll beat you regardless of which color you want.”
A grin lit my face. “Am I sensing another competitive spirit in the room?”
Blushing, she lifted her chin primly. “Possibly.”
I chuckled and began to set up the game, placing her pieces for her as well, since she was busy feeding Anniston.
As I worked, I kept my focus on the task and quietly murmured, “You do realize everyone is watching every move we make and listening to every word we say, right?”
“Of course,” she answered, not looking at me either, too busy watching her child behind the blanket.
“Then why are you doing this?” My voice lowered even more, no longer containing the lightheartedness I’d been going for.
She lifted her face. I looked up as well. “Because I promised I would.”
Struck by those words, I gazed at her in awe.
“Just do me one favor,” she said.
“Anything,” I said, meaning it from the bottom of my soul.
She smiled. “Don’t let me win.”
My lips parted, not expecting her to say that. Then I pursed my mouth with a look of affront and set my hand against my heart. “My lady, I have never once let anyone beat me at chess. What makes you think I would start now?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered airily. “Maybe because I heard this rumor I was your one true love.”
