Page 123 of Court of the Fae Princes

Somehow the sight of Prince Cobar in a washcloth makes me wonder when “something” might pop out from under that tiny piece of material, and it’s distracted me from the fact that I’m in a lake with a crazy fae prince and I can’t swim. I instantly feel my muscles tensing back up, and I look around, trying to decide just how much danger I’m in.

“Are you going to drop me?”

“Only if you want me to,” he says, in a very serious voice.

I eye him. “No, the girl who can’t swim does not want to be dropped in a lake. I just want to make that clear.”

His arms tighten around me. “Absolutely. I’ll never put you down.”

There’s the sound of splashing, and then Prince Cobar is in the lake beside us, grinning like a fool. “But should he drop you, I’ll be sure to catch you.”

“I feel so much safer,” I say, shaking my head. But the thing is, I kind of do.

A second later, something comes exploding from the water. Prince Zane emerges in all his glory. He’s pale, his beautiful white hair running down his back, and his chest is bare. He wipes the water from his face and hair like some kind of dirty fantasy and then levels his pale gaze on me.

“Whoa,” slips from my lips.

“Old Frosty isn’t that impressive,” Prince Forrest mutters.

Prince Zane, his gaze never leaving mine, speaks, his voice soft. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

For a minute, I’m tongue tied, glancing from him to the other two men around me. Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I manage, “Yeah, it’s pretty okay.”

“Come swim with me,” he says.

“We covered the fact that she can’t swim,” Prince Forrest says, eyeing him competitively.

“I can make it feel like you’re swimming,” Prince Zane responds, then offers me his hand.

It’s completely insane, but I reach out and place my hand in his. He pulls me from Prince Forrest’s grip until his hands are at my waist. “Trust me, okay?”

The idea is foreign and strange to me. Trusting my father and grandmother makes sense. Trusting a fae, people who have shown me time and time again that they can’t be trusted, hardly seems like a good idea. Especially knowing that their kind see us humans as little more than poorly paid labor. Still, I’m in his arms, in a lake, so I guess I better trust him.

I nod.

He smiles. That small smile of his somehow feels like the biggest smile on anyone else. And then, he’s on his back, slipping through the water, and I’m lying on top of him. I gasp, clutching his shoulders, but I don’t slip into the water. Instead, it feels like I’m swimming, sliding through the waves like a fish.

I laugh. His smile widens. Then he spreads his hands out and ice begins to form on the water on our sides. With one hand still firmly around him, I let the other hand stretch out and touch the ice before it disappears into the water. The mixture of warm and cold is strangely amazing. Hell, the longer we stay like this the more I can feel his cold body beneath me.

His very hard body beneath me, pressing solidly between my thighs. Mr. Ice is liking this little swimming adventure more than he seems to be willing to admit. And I like knowing I’m turning him on. It makes me feel strangely in control in a world where I have so little control.

I wiggle on him a little. The man gasps, and for a minute, I think we might sink. But then, he goes back to gliding through the water, his gaze fixed on me. No smile dons his lips, just an expression of interest that I like a little too much.

Then we stop. I gasp, my arms around his neck, but, apparently, he can stand at this place in the lake. I’m pressed against him, not sure if I should pull away, when our gazes meet and hold again. He glances down, leaning, drawing closer.

“So, you figured out a way to get her alone?” Prince Sulien is in the water. Where he came from, I have no idea. His long black hair is wet, and his auburn eyes are fixed on me with amusement. “You know, you shouldn’t trust her. She’ll break your heart.”

I glare in his direction. “I will not.”

He comes closer. “A woman like you will break a man’s heart to pieces over and over again.”

My nipples harden in response to the low timber of his voice. “Is that from experience?” It’s meant to be a joke, but the way his eyes darken… I don’t think he takes it that way.

“Remember when we were kids, I would find the rarest seeds for you, sprout the flowers for you, and give you the blossoms, and all you did was laugh. Once you even accepted a flower and went to show it to that Peter boy.” He sounds angry. No, jealous. Of a stableboy.

“Peter?” I ask, not sure if I even believe the whole thing.

He moves even closer. “Yes, Peter with the bright blue eyes. The one who always made you laugh. Who let you feed the horses.”

---