She flashed a grin at me. “No problem. Now, if—”
Someone cleared his throat at the back of the room, and Hilma nearly jumped out of her skin. Vincent towered in the doorway, and my throat went dry as I met his eyes. Hilma placed her hands in front of her, bowing slightly. I forgot how much respect he got from just being Nismera’s lap dog.
“Hilma, Nismera requests you come to the lower levels.”
I didn’t need to see her face to know she’d gone pale.
“Right away, sir.” She didn’t give me a second glance as she hurried past Vincent and out of the room, leaving only the two of us.
He turned back to me after making sure she had finally left, and my skin burned from the way he looked at me. I hated I was even remotely attracted to him, especially after everything. I blamed it on my abstinence over the last few months, and I was too scared to take care of the problem with my own hands. Guards stood at my doors, and all I needed was for one of them to hear.
“What does the queen need her for?” I hated how shaky my voice sounded. I also hated how ridiculously hot he looked in that damned dragonbane armor, all sharp, dark edges, dangerous and lethal, just like him. He took a step forward.
“I don’t ask questions when it comes to Mera.”
“Mera.” I scoffed with more force than I meant to, and he caught my disgust. “The strangest nickname for a goddess whose livelihood is death.”
“Watch your tongue.”
“I’ll try my best,” I quipped, and even I could hear the emotion in my voice.
The corner of his lips curved as if my jealousy pleased him. I wanted to wipe the grin from his face.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
I nodded. “Talk to me? About the other night. Why? It’s not like we’re friends, remember? It doesn’t matter.”
Three nights, to be exact. Not that I’d counted.
Vincent took another step forward before passing a glance toward the open door. No boots sounded against the stone path leading to my small coven room. It was just us.
“Right,” he said, coming around the other end of my table. Heat pooled low in my belly as he grew near, but I stood firm, refusing to move. “I want to apologize about that. I was rude, but the last few days – gods, weeks – have been rough.”
I felt my mouth drop open in disbelief. “You apologizing? Color me shocked.”
“Also, my comments about Kaden. I guess what you do in your free time is none of my business. We’re at war, or on the verge of it, at least. It’s normal even for enemies to seek comfort where they can find it.”
“Okay, stop.” I held my hand up, bile rising in my throat. “I can’t do this anymore. Not with you. I’m not having sex with Kaden.”
Something wild and rageful in his eyes relaxed. Actually, his whole posture eased. “But?”
“No buts. It’s a long story that I don’t want to put you in the middle of. The kissing was just a ruse, okay? The last time he and I even remotely got intimate was when I was dating Dianna, and we used to . . . That’s not the point. The point is, nothing has happened in hundreds and hundreds of years, nor will it ever again.”
My chest practically heaved as a weight was lifted off of it. It felt good to get that out there, even if the man I told probably wasn’t the best.
“Okay,” was all Vincent said.
“Okay?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Yeah.” He half shrugged, but I caught it. He didn’t seem to stand eight feet tall anymore, his body relaxed. It was like I’d given him the greatest thing in the world—I saw him.
“Are you hungry?”
“Sort of. But I don’t want to go to the kitchen. I hate the stares.”
“Me too.” He thought for a moment and then smiled. He looked at the tall, stained-glass window. “I know a place.”
I HELD ON TO THE COLLAR OF HIS ARMOR, MY EYES CLOSED SO TIGHTLY they ached. He gripped my legs and back, holding me to him until he landed. I pushed off him, putting my hands on my hips and slinging my hair out of my face.