Page 17 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
She swung around, her eyes meeting his for any sign of teasing, but it wasn’t there.
Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t being all stodgy now, was he? “Don’t be annoying,” she mouthed at him. Even with this noise, he’d have to understand that. Her attention caught on his jacket. Now she could use that! “Are you cold?” she shouted. It was only fair to ask before she stole the only warmth to be had in this helicopter.
“No.” He sounded testy now. “It’s an oven!”
At least, she think he said that, and she took that as permission to reach around him to peel off his jacket.
He blocked her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m freezing!”
She could use his arms too, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen in his present mood. He grunted out in irritation and began shrugging out of his jacket himself. There was the Achilles she knew, not the stiff mannequin he’d become. He slid his arm around her to help her get into his sleeves. They were still warm from him. Oh, he was right—he had been roasting like an oven… the guy had always been a heater, and his hands were on her.
Now it was her turn to become a rigid doll. Something definitely felt different here. It was his eyes maybe. They were darker; he watched her closer. His touch wasn’t the same either—it felt heavy with intention.
Wow! Yeah, he was burning her up. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his. He took his time helping her, like she actually was the doll she’d turned into, and he was afraid of breaking off one of her fragile china arms.
The darkness of his eyes had completely captured hers with the storm she saw in them and then he leaned against her ear. “Warm?”
She nodded wordlessly. That was one way of putting it. If anyone was putting somebody under their thumb, it certainly wasn’t her.
Leaning back against the seat, he hooked his arm around her and brought her into his chest, almost like he needed the comfort as much as she did, and now she couldn’t move. His heart hammered against her back. After a moment of wrestling with her emotions, she relaxed against him, not sure what he was doing… or what she was doing either. Every part of her felt like it belonged to someone else—to him.
Strange thought! And still, his heart’s comforting pound felt entirely familiar. They were still just good friends.
“Did you learn how to fly one of these things with the Myrdons…?” she asked.
“Huh?”
The helicopter dipped. It was impossible to see where they were in these clouds; Achilles’s hands tightened over her, and he leaned over her, his breath tickling her ear. “Yes, I can pilot it.” What else had he learned with the Myrdons? His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking with barely controlled tension as he reached for something at his side. Her eyes widened at the weapon no longer concealed beneath his jacket.
Oh that. He’d learned that!
The helicopter continued through the clouds. She caught occasional glimpses of moonlit water far below shining like scattered diamonds until they reached the dense lights of a village sparkling against the coastline.
Was this Tirreoy? She’d never been to the land of her birth before, not even for a visit, and yet, this was home now. As they descended, a glowing palace came into view—a sprawling complex that looked like something from a fairy tale, with soaring towers and graceful arches that glowed in the darkness.
She would be queen of this country. Achilles was her husband. So many changes were hitting her all at once that she felt dizzy with them. The way things were going, she’d discover a forgotten twin sister or a pet dragon!
She clung to Achilles’s arm as the helicopter made its descent. It was no use pretending that she was calm and in control. He knew her too well for that. She felt his fingers gently threading through her loose curls, trying to tame the windblown mess her once-perfect bridal updo had become. After all her efforts to appear sophisticated and in charge, all at once, she felt like a complete newbie.
So much could go wrong. Even Venice had been in over his head. She’d be blind and deaf not to see that he’d been out of his mind with worry over her.
The helicopter landed, leaving them in sudden silence when the engines cut off.
“Achilles?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“You still got my back?”
He hugged her closer in answer and she felt infinitely better, even more so when she felt his lips brush against her ear in a brief kiss, nothing like the one earlier, but comforting, nonetheless. She sighed out a, “Good.” They’d need each other in this strange place.
A few seconds later, the door opened. She straightened and tried to fix her hair, seeing a whole line of servants standing in a row over the landing pad. Achilles stepped out of the helicopter and turned to her.
All while she still searched for her shoes. Where had they gone?
Her eyes were caught by the glowing palace before her. She froze. By this light, it appeared to be made of gold with arched and spacious pillars over the entrance. It had to be at least ten stories high. Torches set into sconces under the spires seemed to set it afire.
