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Jak eyed her warily. “No,” he decided. “Not when you’re in this mood.”
Oddly, a pang of uncertainty went through her. She supposed shewasin a mood. In truth, she’d always been moody. In the past, however, she’d always withdrawn to brood on her own. Everyone else, mindful of her fragile psyche, had left her aloneto do it. Now, Jak was with her all the time and thus subject to those emotional swings. It wasn’t fair to him.
What if he was regretting what he’d signed up for? She took a breath, bracing herself emotionally. If Jak decided he didn’t want to marry her after all, she could survive that. To be fair, he hadn’t really wanted to propose to her in the first place. Ash had put him up to it. If Jak was having second thoughts… well, then she could go back to her life as it had been before. She’d been fine. Not happy, but at peace with things. She’d always expected to live her life alone. If Jak decided to leave her, she’d go on as she had before. She wouldn’t stop him.
“I’d need incentive,” Jak said, breaking into her thoughts, pressing her hand to get her attention. “To accept the terms,” he clarified with a slight frown, as if he guessed she’d been thinking something else entirely, “of our bet and your suggested prize in the unlikely event that you win.”
“Then I’ll promise the same if you win,” she replied recklessly.
He considered for a beat, seeming about to say something else. Maybe something about how this debacle of a wedding was simply too much to deal with and that, when he’d first propositioned her, he’d been in it for the lust and fun of it. The challenge, too. Jak had flirted with her relentlessly since he was old enough, pursuing her with determined persistence. He’d be far from the first to discover thathavingwasn’t nearly so fun as wanting, especially when the romantic illusions were shattered and gritty reality set in. Also, it was easy to forget Jak’s youth, in all his brash and capable confidence. He was so much younger than she. Too young, really.
She didn’t blame him for looking for a way out.
“Agreed.” Jak gave her another penetrating look, a question in it. “Stella…”
“What?” she asked, when he trailed off.
He shook his head. “Nothing. I sometimes envy your mind-reading abilities.”
She might’ve asked what he meant, but they’d arrived at their chambers. Jak nodded to the footman standing outside the doors, then made Stella wait while he prowled the rooms for any threats. Tapping her foot, Stella rolled her eyes with impatience. Jak held the door open with a courtly bow, then locked it behind her as she swept through.
“We’re in the heart of a virtually impregnable castle,” she reminded him, knowing she was being waspish, but not quite able to restrain herself.
“It’s the ‘virtually’ part that concerns me,” he replied easily. “No place is perfectly secure and I take no chances with protecting you. I thought you knew that by now.”
She did know that, but it didn’t mollify her. In fact, him pointing that out only annoyed her more. “Are you my lover or my bodyguard?” she snapped.
He smiled lazily, a predatory gleam in it. Holding her gaze, he flipped over the hourglass, then stalked toward her. “How many of your bodyguards have you let fuck you, Princess?” he inquired, black gaze intense.
Her mouth went dry despite herself. Jak could always do this to her, cut right through her defenses, taking her by surprise and putting her off balance. That’s how he’d gotten to her in the first place. “You know perfectly well I was a virgin when you…”
“Exactly,” he murmured, then caught her around the waist and kissed her so thoroughly he stole the rest of her breath. Lifting his head, he stared intently into her eyes. “I think that answers your question.”
Mutely, she nodded. This wasn’t gentle, playful Jak. This was him at his edgiest and she wasn’t sure how to handle that. He stroked a finger down her cheek to her throat, and down over theslight curves of her bosom, snagging in the neckline of the gown. “How much do you like this dress?” he asked.
“This… dress?” she echoed faintly.
A dagger appeared in his hand, silver-sharp, candlelight dancing along its iridescent edge. “I don’t have much time.” He canted his head toward the sands sifting onto a small pile in the bottom of the hourglass. “Unless you love this gown, I’m eliminating it as fast as possible.”
“Jak…” She wanted to protest, but was entirely too flustered.
“Conceding already? Recall that wins me any favor of my choosing.”
With him looking so very wickedly dangerous, she knew she couldn’t allow that. He’d probably call it in immediately and it would be… “I’m not conceding,” she said bravely, lifting her chin.
“Love the dress or not—yes or no?” he fired back crisply, angling the blade so the tip was poised against the cloth between her breasts.
She wasn’t afraid, not of the blade, nor of him. If she knew nothing else about Jak, she knew he would never harm her. But this new game of his had her heart racing with uncertainty. If she said yes, she loved the gown, he’d find another way to get her naked. If she said no, he’d—
“If you’re deliberately running out the clock, I’ll have to cry foul and win by default,” he warned her, arm around her waist snugging her hard against his groin.
Her mouth fell open. “You can’t add rules as you go along!”
He grinned, a flash and gone. “It’s implied and you’re stalling because you know you’re going to lose. Cheaters forfeit. Answer the question or I win now.”
“I don’t love the dress,” she shot back, stung by the accusation. In truth, her fogged brain couldn’t recallwhichdress she was wearing. She started to glance down to check, but Jakhad quick hands and a deft, sharp blade. The fabric was already falling away, her nipples pebbling hard as the cool air hit them. Gasping, she reflexively covered her naked breasts with her hands, registering in the back of her mind that Jak had somehow already sliced the sleeves from her arms, the rest of her gown and underthings falling in a cloud of fabric to her feet.
Jak sheathed the blade and caught her wrists, pulling them away and giving her a rapacious glare. The avid lust and determination flowing from him had her trembling. “You promised, Princess. Anything I want to do to you, which means no resisting in any way.” Still holding her wrists, he pushed them behind her back and firmly into the small of her spine, arching her back and thrusting her breasts upward—his mouth already ravaging hot over them.
