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And acted as if she hadn’t arched her body against his, her fingers tangled in his hair, his lips pressed in a heated kiss against the pulse pounding in her neck as he drove deep inside her.
Blood rushed through his veins as her husky moans and frantic murmuring of his name echoed in his mind. Thank God he was sitting down so the evidence of his lurid musings wasn’t observed by his sister’s wedding guests.
Had they not had wild sex in his office, he wouldn’t have gone up to her room this morning. That had been a mistake. But then again, so had allowing her to slip under his skin over the last year, to pay attention to the subtle nuances of her character like the flash in her eyes when she got frustrated or the sharp wit in her texts and emails. Those indulgences, letting his guard down and treating her more as a partner than an employee, had ripped away his self-control in the moment when he’d needed it most.
His eyes found, then clung to her svelte form clad in navy blue. She moved through the crowd, confidence evident in the set of her shoulders, the lift of her chin.
What was it about her? Had the stress of last year’s dinner made him latch onto the nearest woman who conducted herself with decorum? Had the unexpected breakup led to what could be chalked up as a simple bad decision?
Or was his worst fear true? That he’d inherited his father’s uncontrollable desires? He’d spent years working to distance himself from King Daxon Van Ambrose and his legacy of selfishness and greed.
But perhaps he was more like his sire than he knew.
Coldness crept in and chased away the lingering warmth from the gin. If the last was true, and he had surrendered to nothing more than lust, he and Clara would have to evaluate whether reassigning her to another role in the palace would be in both their interests.
He didn’t care for that thought. But being the heir didn’t mean he always got his way. It usually meant the exact opposite.
Briony swept up to him, her smile more radiant than her gold wedding gown.
“Why are you over here by yourself?” she asked as she sat in a swirl of tulle and satin.
“I’m not the star of the show. I’m enjoying a rare moment of solitude.”
Briony rolled her eyes. “Rare? You go out of your way to avoid people.”
“Only ones I don’t like.”
“You don’t like anyone.”
His eyes drifted to where he had last seen Clara. When he glanced back at his sister, it was to see a suspiciously satisfied smirk on her face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
A childish urge to tweak a stray red curl made him clasp his hands around his gin glass. As much as he had come to care for his half sister, there were times having a younger sibling made him grit his teeth.
“Are you enjoying your wedding ball?”
The teasing glint disappeared as her green eyes, so like his own, lit up.
“It’s magical,” she breathed as she gazed around the candlelit ballroom. “It’s hard to believe two months ago I was slinging drinks in Kansas.”
“And that a prince would sweep you off your feet.”
“That, too,” Briony agreed with a light laugh.
Prince Cassius Adama, Alaric’s new brother-in-law, appeared at her side and leaned down to press a kiss to his new wife’s forehead. Alaric had despised Cass when the man had appeared out of nowhere and essentially blackmailed Daxon into letting him marry Briony. But surprisingly, not only had the two fallen in love, but Cass was genuinely invested in helping Linnaea reclaim financial independence.
Alaric nodded to Cass. He liked to think that confronting Cass the morning after he’d broken off his engagement with Briony had had something to do with the couple reuniting.
Cass returned the nod before glancing around. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but has anyone checked on Clara?”
Unease made Alaric frown. “Checked on her?”
“I just saw her leaving the ballroom. She looked paler than usual.”
Alaric was on his feet and moving before either of the newlyweds could utter another word. What was the little fool trying to do? Kill herself with work? He’d always admired Clara’s strength, work ethic. But she’d never been this stubborn before.
