Page 51 of Thrones We Steal

“We’ve established you’re too much of a scoundrel to do it from the goodness of your heart, so I’m here to appeal to your selfishness.”

“You’re overreacting, Celia. There’s nothing going on with Bea. I swear.”

“She thinks she’s in love with you!”

“I’d be more flattered if you didn’t make it sound like the bubonic plague,” he says.

“Your ego would collapse under more flattery.”

He tosses his glasses onto the desk and studies me until tiny little bumps run up and down every inch of my skin. His eyes linger on my lips, and my whole body hums like a plucked guitar string. I’m acutely aware of how alone we are and of every flicker of movement he makes.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll make you a deal.” His voice is quiet, too quiet.

Regret is a tidal wave. What was I thinking, striking a deal with the devil? “On second thought—” I start.

“Scared?” He chuckles into his cup of coffee before setting it down. “You know me well.”

“What do you want?”

“Kiss me.”

I sputter out a cough. “Excuse me?”

“I promise to stay far away from Bea in exchange for one kiss.”

“You must be out of your bloody mind.”

“Consider it practice.”

“For what? We agreed this marriage would be in name only.”

“At some point we’ll have to show the public we’re not secretly plotting each other’s murders.”

“I don’t condone lying.”

“Kiss me, C.” His eyes dance with challenge.

“Not if you were the last man on earth.”

“Okay, then. I’m sure Beatrice will happily oblige me.” He winks and moves toward the door.

“You’re depraved.”

“Maybe so. Or maybe I just know how to get what I want.”

“Henry, please.” Not this. Anything but this.

“It’s just a kiss. It won’t kill you.”

It might. “How do you sleep at night?”

His grin threatens to split his face. “Just fine, thank you. It’ll be over in no time, and we both get what we want.”

There’s no question why he wants to kiss me. He thinks it’s the most effective way to screw with my head. He’s right.

“You’re despicable. Who asks for that kind of exchange?”

“I do. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” He’s dead serious, all traces of the grin now gone.

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