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She gritted her teeth and ignored the ache that lurked just behind her breastbone. It didn’t matter what she wanted. It didn’t matter that this was going to hurt. It didn’t even matter that what she was about to do was very,verywrong.
What mattered was getting her baby son back and for him she would do anything, anything at all.
Even blackmail a king. The king who was his father.
Gathering her courage, Solace stepped from the shadows where she’d been lurking and made her way onto the dance floor. Bodies heaved around her, lights flashing. The bass throbbed, so deep she could feel it in the soles of feet, in her chest.
She stood out. She knew she did. She’d made sure of it. The dress she wore was a confection of form-fitting silver mesh with fine silver chains for straps, and it glittered and sparkled in the light.
A dress made for getting attention.
Male heads turned as she began to dance, moving to the music in the way she’d studied through watching countless YouTube videos in her local library. Sexy and sensual, yet not too explicit. She’d prepared for this the way she prepared for everything: as if for a battle where surrender was not an option.
She didn’t look up, not yet. He needed to see her first.
Familiar anxiety twisted inside her, but she ignored it with the ease of long practice. If she didn’t catch his attention now, she’d think of something else. She’d done it before wearing a catering uniform and a mask; doing it wearing nothing but a silver-mesh dress was surely a piece of cake.
A couple of men were dancing near her now, which made her wary. She knew how being a woman on her own made her a target. She’d been on her own all her life and being thought of as easy prey was something she was intimately familiar with.
However, according to the thread in one of the secret Internet chatrooms she’d managed to gain access to, this club had strict rules when it came to behaviour and those rules were enforced. Sure enough the men didn’t come too close, but they looked at her with interest in their eyes. Clearly the dress was doing its job.
But there was only one man whose interest she wanted.
She took a breath and finally looked up.
And froze.
He was looking straight at her.
All the air abruptly escaped her lungs in a wild rush and her skin prickled with sudden heat.
She had forgotten.
She had forgotten how the impact of his gaze was like a gut punch. How he made her feel as if she were going to go up in flames on the spot.
It had happened that night in London, too. She’d been in her uniform and incredibly nervous because it had been her first job with the catering company and a step up from waitressing and cleaning. But she’d been determined to do brilliantly, because the money had been good, and she’d had plans. She’d wanted to go back to high school and finish this time, and then, if she did well, perhaps go to university and get a law degree.
All the staff that night had been instructed to wear masks to match the guests since it had been a masquerade ball, and they’d been under strict instructions not to draw attention to themselves. She’d been moving through the crowds with a tray of full champagne flutes, pleased that so far everything seemed to be going well.
Then the tall man in the middle of a knot of people had looked up and she’d frozen the way she was freezing now. His eyes had been a dense, dark blue and she’d been caught in them like a rabbit in a trap. And an unfamiliar feeling had swept over her, a sizzling, crackling energy humming in the space between them, making her feel hot all over.
She’d been so shocked that she’d taken an instinctive step back, only to bump into someone standing behind her, which in turn had loosened her hold on the tray, sending it crashing onto the floor...
Solace’s mouth was dry and despite the deafening thump of the music she could hear her heart beating loudly in her head.
Above her on the catwalk, his powerful figure had gone very still, his hands gripping the rail tightly.
Galen Kouros was famous, not only for his progressive rule and the work he’d done to improve the lives of his most severely disadvantaged subjects, but also for his spotless reputation, and in the ten years since he’d ascended the throne no hint of scandal had ever attached itself to him. He was the most straitlaced king in Europe. Even the revelation of his baby son, which had caused an initial media fuss, had been swiftly quelled by a sombre palace statement detailing the death of the King’s apparent fiancée and the mother of his son, and a request for privacy at this delicate time. Which had been duly given since he was beloved by his people and the media alike.
But that statement was a lie, just as his spotless reputation was a lie.
Galen might be a touch less rigid than his father, but that wickedness he’d once been famous for as a prince was still part of him. And Solace knew becauseshewas the mother of his child and there had been only wickedness when he’d taken her in that deserted office the night of that masquerade ball. A wickedness that had left her trembling with desire and desperation, and a need she’d been powerless to resist.
She’d made a mistake that night. She’d surrendered to him and the heat that had burned between them and had earned herself nothing but pain because of it. But she’d learned her lesson and she wasn’t going to surrender again.Neveragain, not to anyone. No matter how beautiful or compelling or desirable they were.
Tonight, she was going to do the opposite. Tonight, she was going to be the one with the power andhewould surrender toher.She would use that spotless reputation of his against him and take back the son she’d lost. The son he’d taken from her.
She was a still point in the shifting, heaving mass of dancers around her, steeling herself as she held his gaze, feeling the air between them thicken and come alive with the same burning, sizzling chemistry she’d felt that night at the gala. And that was a good thing, even though it frightened her on some deep level.
