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“Your Majesty,” he intones, bowing stiffly.

“My sister, Clare... I’m going to need some extra eyes on her.” I hate what I’m implying, so I just say it. “I need to know I can trust her.”

“We have eyes and ears all over the house, ma’am.” It’s an assurance that he understands my request, and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to have to outright explain that I think my sister may be on her husband’s side. That she might not be on mine.

I go back to my rooms, utterly dejected by the reception I got from my sisters. Not Tara, of course, but Clare’s rejection stings enough to ruin my day. I’m staring down at my feet when I enter my sitting room, so when I glance up at spy Nathan standing at the window, I startle and yelp.

“What the fuck!” I press my hand to my chest to see if my pulse has restarted. “You can’t just loom around in a house this old and probably haunted.”

He sniffs. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Humans, you can believe, ghosts are a step too far.” I snort. “I hope you didn’t come here thinking you were collecting on our agreement right now.”

“Here? In the middle of the day?” He toes aside one of Jo’s toys that escaped the playpen. “What a waste that would be.”

“Then why are you here?” I hope it sounds as antagonistic as I feel.

“I was trying to discern which angle gave me away,” he says, turning back to the window. “And where I should place new hedges.”

“Oh, I have a few ideas where you could put them.”

He barks a laugh as he faces me again. “I did leave that open, didn’t I?”

“You sure did.” I don’t smile. I don’t want him to feel welcome in my personal space. And the way the air crackles between us, it’s dangerous for my will power if he stays. “Is that all?”

“Until tonight,” he confirms.

“What’s tonight?” Nobody has told me about any pre-coronation social obligations.

“Oh, I’m collecting,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets and slouching a bit. “On our arrangement.”

I roll my eyes. “Nathan, tomorrow is my coronation and—”

“You’ll be so tired after, I’m sure,” he says with mock sympathy. “Which is why tonight is better. And it works better for me.”

“Why, do you have something going on tomorrow?” My stomach sours and I realize I don’t want to know the answer. “Never mind. What time?”

“Come to me at nine,” he decides after a pause. “I liked the white nightgown. Wear that.”

“It’s dirty. Someone got cum on it,” I say dryly.

“Do you have it in red?” he asks, like I’m a freaking department store.

“I don’t think I do.”

“You will,” he says with a lift of his eyebrows. He walks to the door, not stopping as he passes me. He doesn’t look back as he leaves me with, “It’s going to be a late night. Rest up.”

CHAPTER 33

I enter Nathan’s study a few minutes before nine. I don’t want to be late to close our transaction. It might affect future negotiations. The secret door is open. The staircase winds up into darkness. I take a deep breath on the first step. Nathan is waiting for me. The closer I get, the stronger our connection becomes. I hold my breath as I climb, and by the time I reach the top, I’m lightheaded. I would be anyway.

Nathan stands in front of the fire in the white shirt and black trousers he was wearing during the day, but I notice that this time, he’s not drinking anything. It strikes me as odd because he’s almost always drinking some kind of alcohol. Its absence alerts me to its near constant presence, and for a moment, I’m concerned that he might be using it to cope with the stress of his position.

Well, he could make things at home a lot less stressful if he stopped being a cheating asshole who can only get his wife to fuck him as payment for favors.

He glances down at his watch before he takes it off. “Right on time.”

“I wouldn’t want to be accused of stalling.” I glance over at the bed and note the absence of pillows and covers. A single black sheet is on the mattress, and thin black cord is draped across the headboard. I think I know what it’s for.

He motions me over and makes me walk all the way to him, never trying to meet me by even a few steps. When I reach his side, he loops an arm around my waist and pulls me close. “I knew it would look even better in red.”

I look down at my nightgown, which had been delivered to my rooms only an hour after Nathan had promised it. The silk hugs my body the same way as the white one does, but the deep, blood red makes it feel more sinful, more exhibitionistic. I’ve worn it specifically to turn him on, to get fucked in it, by his request.

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