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“It has everything to do with it.” He disappeared for a moment, then reappeared, carrying a bottle of liquor and two glasses.
The breath I took went nowhere as I watched him stop by the table and pour two glasses. “Then if that is the case, there are many within this manor and city who would be willing to take my place.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “But would any of them throw a glass at me?”
I drew a short breath through my nose. “Likely not, which should relieve you.”
“But it doesn’t.”
I blinked, unsure of what to say to that, because he wanted blunt objects thrown at his head? Which meant Claude had been right about that.
“And I also know that none of them would remind me of cherries or taste as good on my fingers,” he continued, offering the half-filled glass. “Nor are any of them a mystery to me.”
“There’s nothing about me that is a mystery.” I stared at the glass, then snatched it from him.
Prince Thorne eyed me, his stare so intense it was hard to stand still. “Why are you so against this arrangement?” His brows knitted as I took a drink of what turned out to be some sort of dark wine. “Please do not tell me you have feelings for your baron.”
That I hadn’t been expecting. “And what if I did?”
His jaw hardened. “Then your feelings would be wasted on a man who is clearly not worthy of them.”
Thrown by his statement, it took me a moment to respond. “You don’t know the Baron well enough to decide that.”
“I do know the only reason he lives is because you sat in his lap and I’d rather not see you covered in his blood.”
My chest turned cold. “Because he spoke of cutting off your arm? He was only kidding— albeit stupidly, but he wasn’t being serious.”
“I’m not talking about that.” He took a sip. “Though, I do agree that was stupid.”
“Then what?”
“He was touching you,” he answered. “I didn’t like it.”
“What? Are you saying you were jealous?”
“Yes.”
My laugh shattered the silence that followed. “You cannot be serious.”
Slowly churning eyes met mine. “Do I appear as if I am teasing?”
No, he did not. I gaped at him. “Why in the world would you be jealous?”
“I don’t know.” He brushed a strand of hair back behind his ear. “Not knowing has become quite commonplace when you’re concerned. I’m not sure if it annoys me or excites me.”
“Well, it confuses me.”
“Your reluctance in this confuses me.”
“Truly?” As he stared back at me, I could see that he spoke the truth. “You really don’t get it? Like it doesn’t even occur to you that demanding something like this from another would anger them?”
“If you and I had not known one another? If I didn’t know how much you enjoyed my touch? Then yes, I could understand someone’s anger, but that’s not the case between us.”
“Just because we know each other and I’ve enjoyed your touch doesn’t mean I don’t want to be asked, nor that I would continue to enjoy such things.”
“But I know you want my touch,” he countered. “Just a few minutes ago, your pulse rose in arousal— ”
“Oh my gods.” I lowered my glass to the table to prevent myself from throwing it. “I can’t believe I’m even having to explain what should be taught at birth— ”
