Page 117 of A Game of Veils

I step back to let him enter.

As soon as the door has swung shut, Lorenzo touches my cheek with a brief caress. The brush of his fingertips sends both a bloom of warmth and a shiver of uncertainty through my nerves.

His hands sketch through the air, drawing a clear enough picture of what he wants to convey. I heard what the emperor and Marclinus said. It was awful. You shouldn’t have to listen to them.

My mouth twists. “But I do.”

He frowns in return. You’re not okay.

I splay my hands in a helpless gesture. “I’ll get through it. I always have. It’s not as if how I feel about the situation makes a difference.”

I care. Lorenzo casts about before his gaze comes back to me. His frustration shows in the brusqueness of his next gestures. But I can’t protect you. What would help? Do you want to go outside?

I shake my head. “I’d rather not be around anyone else right now. I mean, anyone I’d have to put on a false front with. I appreciate that you’re trying.”

You could talk. I’ll listen.

“I don’t know what else there is to say.” I look down at my hands, my mouth twisting. “I just… I don’t want to lose myself completely. And it’s starting to feel like I’m coming so close to the edge.”

Lorenzo touches my chin to bring my attention back to him. He turns his fingers in a motion I’ve come to recognize as meaning himself and the other princes. My foster brothers and I stay strong by staying together. I’ll stand with you too.

I don’t know how to answer the devotion in his message. I don’t know how I’ve earned it.

The words blurt out of me unbidden. “You don’t have to. I wouldn’t have expected?—”

He makes a rough sound and jerks his hand in an emphatic motion. I’m here.

He slips his fingers around my elbow and, when I don’t resist, gathers me in a gentle embrace. I tip my head against his shoulder, fresh tears prickling at the backs of my eyes. His warm, tangy scent fills my lungs, reminding me of the summer breeze over the ocean back home.

The logical part of my mind tells me I should put a stop to this. I shouldn’t toe the line of temptation any farther than I already have.

But the tenderness of Lorenzo’s embrace smooths out the cracks that’ve formed in my center of peace. It’s easier to feel like myself when I know at least one other person in this place sees me as I am.

As the ache of loss melts, sharper pang takes its place, running straight down my chest to spark heat between my thighs.

I’m so tired of all these games, of pretending I want what I don’t and that I don’t want what I do.

In a few days, I’ll either be dead or chained to a man I hate for the rest of my life. A man who was flaunting his lovers in front of me less than an hour ago.

How could anyone say it’s wrong for me to pursue my own desires before I’ve even made a full commitment to him? This might be the last chance I ever get. A little taste of romance to carry me through the long years ahead.

It might be temporary, a sham of anything you could call a real relationship, but at least it’ll be mine.

I ease back from Lorenzo just far enough to look up at him. He meets my gaze, teasing his fingers into my hair. Hunger smolders behind the concern in his eyes, but he doesn’t lean in.

He’s letting me make the choice of where I want this moment to lead. Somehow that makes me even surer.

I bob up on my toes and meld my mouth to his. With a hitch of breath, Lorenzo kisses me back hard.

The moment we’ve started, it’s hard to imagine we could ever stop. Like I’m drunk on him and parched for more.

As one kiss blurs into the next, he strokes his fingers down the side of my neck, sparking tingles in their wake. There’s nothing but confidence in the way he cups my breast now, drawing a gasp out of me with one firm swivel of his thumb.

My body sways toward him of its own accord. He trails his hand down to my waist and tugs my hips closer against his. His teeth nick my lower lip before grazing over my jaw and down my neck to follow the same path as his fingers.

Every inch of my skin has lit up. I grasp his hair, his shoulder, whimpering when he sucks hard on the crook of my neck. My legs tremble with the rush of sensation.

Lorenzo’s hand teases down my thigh and back up again, and I clutch him harder through another tremor. Then he’s lowering me onto the thick rug so we’re kneeling together.

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