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Prince Zane’s smile fades away, and the energy in the room changes.Is he upset?I can’t for the life of me understand why. I’m the one who’s pissed.
“I’m free to answer any questions you might have,” Prince Zane says, giving a little bow, like he’s in a fancy suit instead of a towel.
My anger practically hums through me. “Good to know, but this question is just for Prince Sulien.”
His gaze shifts to the other man, and he draws himself up taller. “So, I assume you want me to leave you alone together?”
I stare, confused but trying to keep a grip on my anger. Anger makes sense. Anger is safer. “Yeah, that’s usually how private conversations go.”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes.
“Maybe this can wait for another time. Maybe when I’m dressed,” Prince Sulien says, emphasizing each word in an obnoxious way.
Like hell he’s getting out of this.“I don’t think so.”
Prince Zane moves toward me, and then he’s standing over, smelling like something cool, refreshing, and absolutely delicious. “I know that you’re from the Summer Court, but I want you to see me as a confidant and advisor as well. Anything you need, anytime you need it, I’ll be there.”
My cheeks heat, even though I’m not sure he knows what I’m picturing when he’s saying things like that while barely wearing anything at all. “Good to know. Thanks.”
He hesitates, then reaches out and combs the hair back from my face. “And you can pop into my room any time you’d like, just the way you do with Prince Sulien. My door is always open to you.”
I shrug. “Thanks, but I can’t see myself needing to pop into any of your rooms.”
He stares. I stare.
Okay, I need to say something more. “It’s not like I come here often.”
“Often?” Prince Zane’s eyes darken. “You’ve been here before? With him, alone?” He lets out an almost imperceptible growl.
Prince Sulien’s eyes dart in Prince Zane’s direction, but he doesn’t say a word. I’m learning he wields silence like a weapon. Or like a very incompetent weapon, like a flaccid penis. I haven’t decided which.
The thing is, I don’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t care. I need to talk to Prince Sulien. Alone. And not a nice conversation. One with lots of pointing, shouting, and name calling.
“Whatever this is, can you do it later?” I ask Prince Zane before facing Prince Sulien. “I need to talk to you right now.Alone.”
Prince Sulien and I both peer at Prince Zane expectantly. Prince Zane shifts closer, blocking out my sight, bombarding me with his essence. He suddenly doesn’t seem so cold. There’s something almost dangerous about having a big, sexy, half-naked man close enough to touch.
I breathe him in. My eyes close, and I lean in closer to him like there’s actually a magical force drawing me in, and I feel him lean in too. Close enough that I can feel his breath on my neck.
“I can’t wait to make you scream on our wedding night,” he whispers into my ear, and his voice practically vibrates through my body.
Jerking back, I try to calm my breathing.What is it with these guys and talking to me like I’m just a piece of meat? Is this what a married life with them would be like? All sex? Feeling like an object?
Yes, I was just ogling him. Yes, these men make me think dirty things, but just once I’d like to hear something sweet or reassuring from them. It’s like the only women they’ve ever talked to are ones that couldn’t hear them talking.
These fae princes need to be taken down a peg. Or maybe twenty. If I’m forced to marry them, I don’t want my life to just become that of a woman with her legs spread all day for her husbands. If I let stuff like this go, I predict my married life will be absolutely miserable.
So, handle it.
“I’ll be screaming?” I clarify angrily. “Screaming withlaughter,I think!” I tap at his crotch and his hands reflexively cover the area. I raise my eyebrows and let out a small laugh.
To my surprise, he looks more hurt than angry. “So, this is what you want? Just to speak to Prince Sulien? Alone?”
“You finally get it!” I say, taking a step away from him.
He looks between us, gives a curt nod, and heads for the door. For some reason, my chest aches as I watch him leave, but I’m not sorry for what I said. Aren’t all these changes enough? Do these men really think that constantly talking about fucking me before I even know them is going to make me want to be around them?
Because it doesn’t.
