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I scan the room, my face itchy from the mask, looking for Prince Sulien. There’s a sea of women around me wearing dazzling dresses and elaborate masks, fae men that seem to be eyeing the women, but no sign of the prince.No doubt he’s in some circle of them, struggling for air, praying for me to come save him.
Okay, maybe not.Even though he’s hatched this plan, I’m sure he’s enjoying every ounce of the attention. Whatever his motivations for marrying me are, they certainly aren’t that he’s afraid of female attention, if half the rumors about him are true.
I feel a hand on the small of my back, and relief washes over me, thinking Prince Sulien has found me. He’s the only person I know here. The only person who would randomly touch me. But when I turn around, the man touching me isn’t Prince Sulien. He’s tall, blond, and beautiful, wearing clothes that are so sinfully tight that I can make out every inch of his dick.
And, boy, it’s no wonder he’s cocky enough to be touching a random woman.
He leans closer to me, a smile dancing across his lips. “You’re who I’ve been waiting for. A tall, gorgeous woman who looks as if she’s been dipped in gold. Dance with me.” He pulls me close. His hands are soft and warm, comfortable.
But unfortunately for him, I’m not interested.
I slip from his arms. “No thanks, I’m looking for someone.”
He looks surprised for a second before his smile returns. “Aren’t we all?” His fingers walk up my arm slowly, and he leans his face close to mine.
My eyes close on instinct, but I force them open and turn away from him again, heart hammering. This isn’t what I want. I have a plan. Find Sulien. Use the potion, fake a connection, marry, and give my family a happy life. Nowhere in the plan is some beautiful fae man randomly trying to seduce me because I look good in a dress.
A fae man who probably wouldn’t give me a second look if I was scrubbing his floor.
He’s in front of me again. Somehow. Probably teleported, the bastard. “Are you looking for someone in particular, then?”
“Not you,” I tell him, darting around him as he stares after me, mouth hanging open.
The bastard is in front of me again, not giving me enough time to stop from crashing into him. Instantly, he wraps his strong arms around my waist, and our bodies are pressed together.
The surprising touch takes my breath away as he presses me against his hard body. Without realizing it, I’m suddenly dancing with him. Swaying to a seductive tune that seems to beg me to fall in love with him.
But this isn’t right. Didn’t I tell him no?
He’s beautiful with perfect honey-blond ringlets flowing down his back, and I don’t hate this dance. In another life, I might revel in this moment, but I’m here on a mission. Something he doesn’t seem to be getting through his thick head.
“I said I have to go.” I try to get away, but he pulls me in closer.
“You don’t want to dance with Prince Cobar Bloom?” he sounds shocked.
Fuck. I’ve gotten the attention of the Prince of the Spring Court? That’s the last thing I want.
I smile sweetly enough that he smiles back. “Not even a little bit.”
He pulls me even closer. “Every woman here wants to dance with me. Every woman hopes I’m their mate. But, not you, why?” And he actually seems sincere.
My body aches a little as his head lowers closer to mine, but I tell my body to calm down. Pretty fae are a dime a dozen. Maybe not royal ones, but I don’t have time for him either. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might just not be that interesting?”
His jaw drops. “S-since when does being interesting matter?”
I tilt my head. “Since always.” I pull to try to escape him, but he holds on tight.
“I’m a royal fae.”
I sigh. This is getting old. “And if I have to bet, you never clean up after yourself, never thank someone unless you see a reason to impress them, and have never worked hard enough to sweat. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Is this what women want now? Clean, polite men who sweat?”
“That’s what I want,” I tell him. “And you arenotthat.”
Couples squeeze around us, making me feel a little suffocated, but they’re just a blur as the beautiful man stares down at me in surprise. I’m waiting now for him to push me away, to get angry, to throw a fae tantrum. And, I realize, belatedly, that in trying to avoid him, I might be instead creating a scene, when he smiles again. “I could be clean and polite and sweat for a woman like you.”
I speak without thinking. “You can’t. You don’t have it in you. Tomorrow you’ll be drunk and barking orders at servants, looking forward to yet another person you can be around who will tell you how handsome and clever you are.”
