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Her other hand is gesturing frantically under the table, but there’s no trace of that on her adoring features.
“Of course, my bride. I do love the way your cheeks flush when you need me.”
Something flashes in her eyes that might be amusement and might be ire.
It’s probably the latter.
I can feel more than see Einar’s discerning gaze trained on us, but fortunately, whatever he imagines is going on, he covers for us by launching into a story about a time when he and my father were younger. His booming voice draws all the attention toward him and away from us.
I keep grinning anyway as I pull the decanter over.
Aika’s embarrassment has paid off, since the monkey is eagerly grasping at the pumpkin in her dangling hand. So when I lean over to fill her glass, I reach my other hand down to close around the distracted creature.
“Thank you,” she says sincerely, if a bit loudly, to cover the thing’s indignant squeak.
I don’t move, blocking her from view as she delicately takes the monkey from my hand. I tell myself that’s also why I hold her gaze, for a distraction. Why my tone comes out low and earnest when I respond, my face closer to hers than it strictly has a need to be.
“Any time,” I tell her.
Her lips part like she hears the promise I didn’t quite mean to make, the one I can’t bring myself to want to take back.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
AIKA
It’s late when we make it back to our rooms. I indulged in several glasses of Jean’s private wine vintage, and the effects have left me far lighter on my feet and blissfully more uncaring than I planned for.
Apparently, it also somehow made me more endearing to Katriane. Throughout dinner, the queen’s distant demeanor softened enough to extend to me an invitation to join her for tea tomorrow afternoon.
My mouth nearly fell open from the shock of it, but I agreed, of course.
I haven’t spent any time alone with the woman, ever, but certainly not since she ordered me to be locked in the dungeons during the ball. Still, tea with the queen should be child’s play next to a meal with Madame.
At least I can rest safely in the knowledge that Katriane won’t poison me.Probably.
I slip off my shoes and remove the heavy tiara and jewels weighing me down, pushing tomorrow’s impending teatime out of my head.
Remy watches me wordlessly. His cheeks are flushed from his own overindulgence in wine as he leans against the doorframe. I wonder if that’s why he helped me cover for the monkey.
As if the creature senses my thoughts, he howls through the clasp of the purse to be let out. I take him to the balcony, setting him on the edge before turning back around.
Remy is taking slow, measured steps toward me, his fiery eyes boring into mine. My breath catches in my lungs, and warmth pools low in my abdomen as I vividly recall every single sensation he has ever wrought upon my body.
Last night was only intended to be a one-time thing, but the hunger in his gaze tells another story. Hell, mine probably does, too.
My pulse speeds up, and my feet move forward of their own accord, closing the space between us.
He towers over me, the rise and fall of his chest brushing against mine, but he doesn’t move to touch me. Our warm breath mingles in the air between us, sweetened with the scent of wine. I am fully ready to close my eyes and lose myself in him again when his full, perfect lips part and his deep voice breaks the silence.
“About last night—” A loud knock sounds at the door, and he snaps his mouth shut, cutting off the words.
I am torn between being grateful for the abrupt halt to whatever conversation Remy thought we were about to have and furious at the interruption of all the things we were about to do.
His eyes flicker from the door back to mine as he wars with whether or not to answer it. The knock sounds again, though, louder and more insistent, followed by a feminine voice.
“We know you’re in there, Remy.Lawrietold us. So cover your bits and open up already.”
The spell between us breaks with his sister’s demands. Remy groans, running a hand over his face before marching over and swinging open the massive door.
