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“We really should have,” I say with far less amusement.
“He’s not so bad,” Dante rushes to say, casting me a worried look. “You’ll like him better when you get to know him.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Must I?”
“He may be an idiot—perhaps the biggest idiot I’ve ever known—but he’s still my friend.”
“A friend you tricked into giving you his beloved car.”
“He was foolish enough to assume I was only marrying you out of duty. He all but begged me to take Bertha in exchange for my great sacrifice. I might as well take advantage before he learns how much I—” His mouth snaps shut, and it takes him a moment to try again. “How much Iadoreyou.”
My smile falters. He was about to saylovebut stopped himself. Why? Because I haven’t said it yet? Or…because his feelings haven’t quite grown that far? I know where mine have grown.
“Do you regret it?” he asks, tone suddenly wary. “I keep waiting for you to regret it. To regret me.”
I sit up straighter. “Why would I?”
He gives me a sad smile. “You gave up a prince to marry a spy. A spy who’s currently unemployed until the Alpha Council decides if they’ll give me a job. Albert, on the other hand, will always be a royal, no matter where he lives. No matter what he does. Compared to him…well, I’m just…”
My heart sinks at the vulnerability that crosses his face. I recall what he said about Holly Abercrombie. That he was, for a time, romantically involved with her. Before she chose Albert. I wonder if that wasn’t the first time a woman has gotten close to Dante only to fall for his friend.
“You gave up part of your career too,” he adds.
I angle my body to face him. “Dante, I didn’t give up part of my career. I simply…let go of something I no longer needed.”
Soon after my engagement to Albert was publicly severed, followed by the shocking news that I was going to be marrying the prince’s decoy, Bartleby’s revoked their invitation back to the showcase. I felt only a pinch of disappointment, but it was quickly replaced with relief.
“Besides,” I say, “don’t forget anunemployed spytook down a gang and opium operation.”
Dante chuckles. “We did that together, darling.”
He’s right, and it fills me with no small amount of pride. It was almost effortless to get the man we captured to confess to the authorities about what Mrs. Vance had tried to do to me. With that, plus what I overheard about the Kolville job, a group of fae operatives—plus Dante—were able to bust a long-standing opium trade fronted by Vance Industries. Howard and Maureen are currently behind bars, along with the Durrely Boys who were present during the bust. Those who escaped legal punishment have successfully attracted the unwanted attention of the fae royals. They’re on thin ice now. If they want to continue doing…well, whatever seedy activities gangs like to do, then they’ll need to keep their actions in the realm of morally-gray-yet-legal.
“We make a good team, Dante.”
“We do,” he says, but there’s something restrained in his tone, his posture.
I scoot closer to him. Careful not to steal too much of his attention from the road, I gently place my hand on his thigh. “I chose you, Dante. We’re more than a team. More than political allies. I asked you to marry me, not just as a solution to maintain peace with Bretton but because…because I love you.”
He whips his gaze toward mine, eyes wide. “You love me?”
“Eyes on the road.” When he obeys, I add, “And yes, I do love you.”
“Damn it, Amelie,” he mutters, voice like a growl. I fear I said the wrong thing. That he wasn’t ready to hear that word. “I wish I wasn’t driving right now. Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you? How badly I’ve wanted to tell you I love you?”
His eyes find mine again, and I see hunger in them. Passion. Desire.
It emboldens me, sending a roiling heat deep in my belly. “I told you automobiles are nothing but trouble,” I whisper, tone sultry. I tighten my grip on his thigh, stroking the tips of my fingers along his inseam. “If we were sitting in the back of a coach, we could be doing all sorts of things. Things we couldn’t do in here, with or without a driver at the wheel.”
The car swivels so suddenly, I stifle a shout of alarm. But Dante hasn’t lost control of the vehicle. Instead, he pulls it onto the grassy shoulder beside the road. He turns the key, silencing the rumbling purr of the automobile. Then, holding my gaze, he says, “Come here.”
The intensity in his eyes, his tone, has me aware of just how alone we are. There’s no one else in the car with us, hardly another soul on the quiet country road. And we’re heading to an empty manor, just the two of us. An unexpected timidity comes over me as images of what commonly occurs on one’s wedding night fill my mind.
We’ve spent a lot of time together over the past month, going on dates, getting to know more about each other, taking our relationship public. But in terms of intimacy, we’ve yet to move past heated kisses. Dante wanted to take things slow with me, especially after I told him the full truth of my past. The hurts I sustained from Prince Cobalt’s abuse. I’ve been ready for physical intimacy for weeks now, but the thought of being with someone in that way—someone I love—has my heart racing with the most delightful terror. I swallow hard and try to keep my voice level. “Why did you pull over?”
In answer, he encircles my waist and pulls me into his lap. “If you think there’s any obstacle that can keep me away from you, you’re wrong. I’ll kiss you anywhere. Make love to you anywhere. Coach, automobile, closet, stable. Anywhere, Amelie.”
His words send sparks of invisible flame over every inch of my body. I could laugh it off. I could giggle and pretend he’s teasing me, but I know he isn’t. And I don’t want to take his words in jest. Not with the bright warmth flooding my chest, the heat pooling at the apex of my thighs. Wrapping my arms behind his neck, I lift my thin skirt and shift my legs until I’m straddling his hips. Only an inch of room remains between my back and the steering wheel, but I like how close the confined space forces us to be. “Show me.”
