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She looked ready to grab the glass and apologize when Arthur swept in and stole the glass from whoever I handed it to. “Thank you, I was thirsty.”
The old man she’d been talking to made a comment under his breath and stomped off, but I didn’t care. As if he had a chance of stealing my bride, plus I didn’t give a shit if I was rude. I would be king in less than two weeks. Plus, I’d been acting as king in proxy since my arrival two years ago, along with the other two kings.
I took her in my arms, nodded to Arthur, and took her across the floor in her gorgeous red dress. It was strapless with a cape falling down her shoulders that she needed to hold while I twirled her, dancing at least I knew how to do.
We took over the entire dance floor, and all I thought of was her.
“Scandalous.” She shook her head. “You should know better, Sire.”
“Please.” I leaned forward and kissed her neck as I dipped her, knowing that it sounded like I was begging, maybe I was. “Call me that in bed.”
Her eyes widened.
I grinned and kissed on the other side of her neck. “Say yes or I’m not letting you up.”
“I’m learning, my king.” God, I loved how she said it. “I could never say no, not anymore, not anymore.”
I brought her to her feet as couples, dignitaries danced around us, and I kissed her full on the mouth, much to the horror of everyone in public. After all, a king must always be proper, but with her? I just wanted to be bad, and I wanted to taste her and maybe give her a little bit of a taste of what it was like not to follow all the rules.
I expected her to pull back, but she cupped my cheek with her black gloves, and she kissed me, her tongue slid past my lips and I knew that people had to have seen the open-mouthed part of the kiss.
When we parted, I knew it was the final blow, fight or flight, they’d either love us or hate us.
But I loved us.
I loved her the minute I met her two years ago, when she told me I was crass. I loved her a year ago when we went riding and she nearly fell off her horse, then got mad at me for helping her. I loved her when I saw her donate almost all of her time to charity and while nobody was looking last Christmas, when she sat in the children’s cancer ward and didn’t tell the press, staying the entire day giving special gifts to each child she knew wouldn’t make it most likely to their next Christmas.
I kept tabs on her every move, for protection, yes, but also because I wanted to know her despite her not wanting anything to do with me.
I wanted her to love me despite my lack of charm and I didn’t want to force myself in her company, I thought if I just gave it time, she’d come to me—and she did. She finally did.
Her eyes sparkled in that moment. “You’re clearly rising up to your reputation.”
“Thought I was already there.”
“Think you just got there.”
“Not him,” I whispered against her neck. “Please, anyone but him, please, just let me, let me be yours.”
She pulled back, her eyes creased between her brows. “What?”
“Frederick.” I clung to her gloved hands. “Please give me the chance to be that man for you. I know I teased you, I tempted you, I told you things, but please.”
Her smile was challenging. “Are you worried?”
“He has blond hair and looks like he just dropped out of a superhero movie, who wouldn’t be?”
She clung to me while I twirled her and then whispered in my ear, “I always liked the villain.”
I nearly stumbled as the music ended. I had to bow. She curtsied.
I had nothing to say to that as she walked off while I stared.
Frederick was on the sidelines, and she went exactly there, only to grab a glass of champagne and keep walking.
His expression was again, emotionless.
Being the Yankee I was, I didn’t waste time, I sprinted after her as she left the ballroom.
