Page 3 of Unlawful Lies

Arden crosses his arms over his chest with the bottle pressed squarely against his heart.

His gaze settles on me, and I shiver at the intensity despite the dullness of liquor. An uneasy silence falls between us, making room for tension to crawl its way into my belly.

Nicola clears her throat. Her fingers twitch on her father’s shoulder. “Daddy, I don’t really think this is the time to get into such things,” she says softly. “Perhaps it would be best if we stuck to the agenda we agreed on before the meeting. They have valid concerns.”

She pats him, her fingers standing out like slender spiders against the dark of his button-up shirt.

“Nicola, I swear to fucking god.” Arden’s hand closes around his bottle and squeezes until his knuckles go white. Even my father isn’t ignorant of the violence in the gesture. “Get the fuck out of my sight and keep your mouth shut. Get out of this room. Now.”

Things are going to get heated in seconds, and I have half a mind to ask the rest of the guards we’ve brought to stay here with Father in case things go south. Judging from current circumstances and the pressure crawling its way along my limbs?—

We and our people always leave our weapons at the door, metaphorically speaking, when these meetings commence. But you don’t need a gun to kill a man. Only desire.

Nicola flushes and looks like she’s got more to say but eventually bobs her head in acknowledgment and saunters out of the room, pausing only at the door to look over her shoulder at me in a clear demand.

I wait for her to disappear before turning to Father. “Will you be okay without me?”

He doesn’t drag his attention from Arden but lifts a hand to gesture for me to get the fuck out as well. The men are speaking.

I look him up and down and bow my head, earning a barely swallowed chuckle from Arden. The walls of the room press in around me with every beat of my heart jerking against my ribcage.

Nicola has a head start on me but it’s a small matter to catch up, my strides longer than hers, and we walk side by side silently out the rear patio doors. We’ve only spoken to each other a handful of times over the past six months like words are currency, and we’re both low on funds.

Between the towering mights of our respective rulers, the only time we’re able to speak freely is the moments before and after meetings.

She’s made herself scarce, coy, a flirtation.

I’ve made myself a fortress.

I rub my throbbing temple, my shoulders hunching forward and mussing my hair even more. Nicola pushes the door open as wide as it will go in desperation for fresh air.

The backyard of her compound is a mess of roses and winding trails. Something I highly doubt Arden had any part in creating.

Only when we’re alone, and I’m sure of it, once I’ve motioned for my personal guards to hang back, do I brave speaking. “It was getting bad in there.”

She turns to me with wide-eyed curiosity. “Does it scare you?”

“That’s where you go? Right out of the gate with a parting shot?” I smile at her. “No, I’m not scared.” Only for her.

She shrugs, wholly unconcerned, and stops to trail her fingers along the soft petals of a sunrise-yellow rose. “There’s no shame in being nervous. My father punches like an ox. Especially when he is deep in the bottle.”

“If an ox had hands,” I add.

Her eyebrows knit as she stares at me. Her nostrils flare, torn between laughing and reprimanding me for adding insult against her father only she is qualified to make. “I really didn’t need an escort for my own gardens, Edward. It’s fine.”

Edward. She’s never used my name before. The way it falls from her tongue like we've been friends for years rather than casual strangers eases a bit of the emptiness in my depleted system.

“Has he ever used those hands on you?”

I’m not sure why it bothers me, but it does. The thought of anyone touching Nicola, out of anger or lust or anything in between, has me seeing red.

“Oh, wow.” Much to my surprise, her head tips back, and she laughs uproariously, her hands shifting to her hips. “You’re more conceited than I thought.”

My eyes bulge. “Conceited?”

“I’m not your concern, hot stuff.” She’s close enough to slap my chest, and I bare my teeth, showing more emotion than I’m comfortable showing. “Stop worrying about something that is none of your business.”

She’s not only gorgeous, but she’s smart. So fucking smart it makes me feel about three inches tall.

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