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All his good intentions seemed to ignite.
“Are you asking me if I intend to keep my wedding vows?” he asked with a certain silken menace. “Or are you more interested in discussing my exploits?”
As if she was the latest woman auditioning to warm his bed, and nothing more.
He could feel his pulse again, greedy and intent. And across from him, he was sure he saw a flicker of something sensual move across her face, lighting her up and making every last muscle in his body tighten—
But he was mistaken. He had to be.
Because, while he watched, she seemed to shrink there across from him. No saintliness, no sensuality, only a crumpling in on herself.
It was unbearable.
He was truly everything they said he was, and more. Bitter as that was, Griffin had no choice but to accept it.
Look at what you’re doing here, he growled at himself.You can’t help yourself.
“Am I allowed to question you?” Her voice was the same thread of sound he remembered from before, when he’d seen his future Queen’s blind waif of a sister and had found himself seized with the uncharacteristic urge to protect her. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I hardly know how to handle myself in the presence of a man of your stature. Or at all. I must confess to you that I have not often been in...anyone’s company, really.”
She sounded plaintive. Uncertain and overwhelmed. By contrast, Griffin felt himself relax. He felt on solid ground again.
This, he could do. He was not a monster like his father. King Max had been a dark man, bent and determined to demean and degrade, use and discard. He had been venal and greedy.
Griffin was none of those things. He indulged in his sins, yes. But he didn’t wield them as weapons.
Looking at this lovely, infinitely breakable creature who had become his wife, he reminded himself that this was his chance. At last he, too, could be virtuous.
Without actually having to dedicate himself to all those tiresome years of self-control and abstinent moral rectitude that defined his brother.
All he needed to do was be kind.
Surely even he could manage that.
“You can do or say whatever you like,” he assured her, almost indulgently. “This is your home now. And to make it more appealing for you, your sister made certain that I engaged your favorite aide to ease the transition. I hope that, in time, you will be happy here.” He reminded himself that he was not taking in a delicate boarder. He was talking about a marriage. “With me.”
Melody cleared her throat delicately. “My aide?”
“I’m told she was responsible for privately tutoring you in all the tedious rules of Idyllian comportment. And then stayed on afterward as you enjoyed her companionship.”
His bride’s face glowed. Again, Griffin felt filled with a new sort of joy.
He could do this. He could be the man he’d never been.
“I enjoy her companionship very much,” Melody said, emotion clear in her voice.
When she sat up straight again, Griffin felt as if he’d won something.
“Inside the walls of this house, you can do as you please,” he told her. “Think of it as yours. You will have your own apartments. All the independence you might crave. All I ask is that outside these walls, you never let anyone know the truth about our relationship.”
The glow on her face faded a bit, and he disliked it. Intensely.
“But everyone will know the truth as soon as you return to your usual...pursuits.” She did notquiteshrug. “People like to gossip in general, I think, but gossiping about you is a national pastime.”
It was said so innocently. He couldn’t possibly object.
And still, his grip on his tumbler was so tight that he was briefly concerned that he would shatter the glass.
Because no one seemed to think he would keep his word. Not Orion. Not his lovely new wife.
