Page 157 of Heat of the Everflame

“What happened yesterday—I didn’t plan it, I swear. In the tunnels, I saw—”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s something more important.”

“It does matter. I don’t want to keep things from you. We promised each other brutal honesty.”

Luther grimaced. “Fuck.”

I straightened. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He finally looked up at me, his face the portrait of agony. He took a stiff step forward and raised a hand, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing my face, as if he feared my touch—or his own.

I placed my hand over his and pressed it to my cheek, surprised—and a little alarmed—at the fiery heat of his skin. I slowly closed the distance between us. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

He shook his head, his forehead falling to mine. “Diem,” he breathed. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Before I could answer, a cheerful whistling cut through the air.

We both went still.

“Well look at that, if it isn’t just who I was coming to see.”

Luther deflated against me.

With reluctance bordering on despair, I pulled out of his arms, then glowered down the hall. “I thought this wing was for ourprivateuse.”

Symond strolled out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets. His dark trousers were skintight against his slender legs, his silk shirt unbuttoned to his waist. “I come bearing a message from Her Majesty. Nothing in this realm is private from her.”

“What do you want?” Luther snapped.

“From you? Nothing. From her?” He ran his hand along his bare chest. “I have a few ideas. Would you like me to show you again, Prince, or did you get enough of that yesterday?”

Luther lunged unsteadily toward him. I threw myself in the way, gently nudging him back.

“You’re an ass, Symond,” I muttered.

A sinfully arrogant smile hooked his lips. “Her Majesty wishes you to join her for an early lunch.”

“Fine. I’ll collect the others and we’ll be down in an hour.”

“The invitation is for one, and I’ve been sent to retrieve you immediately.”

I threw him an annoyed glare. “Can’t it wait?”

“Her Majesty waits for no one. Even Queens.”

I glanced back at Luther, who looked one snide comment away from turning Symond into a rug. I lightly touched his chin to pull his attention back to me. “Can we discuss this after lunch?”

He nodded stiffly, though his expression was screamingno.

I hesitated. “If it’s really important...”

“Just go.” His glare sharpened on Symond. “Touch her again without her consent, and mark my words, I’ll take you down with me.”

Symond chuckled and extended his arm. “Your Majesty?”

I gave Luther an apologetic glance before laying as little of my hand as I could on Symond’s forearm and following him down the hall.

As we turned out of the corridor, I cast one last look over my shoulder. Luther was still waiting, still watching. The darkness in his eyes lingered in my thoughts even after he fell out of view.

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