Page 32 of Waves
I grinned when my retort wiped the seductive expression right off his face and replaced it with an offended one. “Majesty?—”
I pushed on his back beneath his shark fin, trying not to admire the tightly corded muscles as I herded him into the room before I turned to the guard outside and snarked, “We’ve already tried removing the stick but it’s, unfortunately, a permanent feature.”
The poor guard worked very hard to keep a straight face as I shut my door and turned toward the shark shifter, who was now standing, arms crossed, just in front of my bed.
“I’m not sure if I should address the fact that you still think I’m arrogant or just be grateful you’ve spent so much time thinking about my ass.”
“The latter,” I replied smoothly before I was unable to suppress a grin.
His answering smile was a cross between smug and predatory and I absolutely drank it up.
While Watkins hadn’t been the distraction I’d been seeking, he definitely was taking my mind far from my nightmares and far from the very real accusations from last night.
I moved to my dressing table, not bothering to glance at the mess of my hair I could feel swirling around my face like agolden cloud. Sitting, I gestured for him to take a seat on my still-rumpled mattress since it was the only other option in the small space.
“You want to see what I look like in your bed?” he teased as he perched on the end.
“Mind reader.”
“Got another one for you. You couldn’t sleep?” He gestured at the twisted sheets.
“Bad dreams,” I admitted with a shrug, because there was no point in denying it. “It turns out, inviting men who want to kill you to join your tournament isn’t the best for one’s constitution.”
“Wanted. Past tense. We came to a truce.” He clasped his hands together as he stared over at me, handsome face as mesmerizing as ever.
“Truces often end without warning.”
“Accurate, but this one hasn’t. Unless you want to renege, of course.” His expression grew serious, his lips thinned, and I wasn’t certain, but I thought there might have been a hint of disappointment in his voice when he spoke. A hint of honest vulnerability.
I shook my head but sighed and replied in kind because if he was showing his hand, what good was it to hide mine? “Honestly, fighting with you lets me know exactly where I stand. This tentative friendship is harder. Particularly when I’m constantly worried about being stabbed in the back.”
“What if I told you I prefer to look my enemies in their eyes?”
I snapped my fingers and wryly quipped, “Well then. Problem solved.”
We shared sarcastic grins that turned heated, the current around us sizzling as it always seemed to do whenever we were in close proximity.
“Speaking of…” Watkins slid off the end of the bed and lifted his arms to either side. “Weren’t you supposed to search me forweapons?” A naughty challenge flared in his eyes and in a snap, like a wave that had crested, honestly crashed down and a new surge of water rose behind it, a sultry, swelling tease.
“Hmm. Yes. That. You do tend to be up to no good,” I teased as I stood and strolled casually forward, giving him a drawn-out once over. “Can’t help but be suspicious.” With no shirt and black pants so tight that they melded to his muscular thighs, there was no chance he had anything hidden beneath them. But perhaps tucked into his boots?
I knelt in front of him in a deliberately suggestive way before my hands encased either side of his left calf and dragged slowly upward. My gaze darted up to watch his eyes grow hooded and though I was below him, his sharp intake of breath made me feel powerful.
“I do have inappropriate intentions,” he confessed as my hands dragged over the tops of his boot and slid up toward his kneecap.
“Really?” I let my hands glide a little way up onto his thigh before retreating and checking his other boot. When he huffed in disappointment, a chuckle slipped out. My check of the second boot was much more perfunctory and I gave his leg a ‘friendly’ pat at the end before I rose.
The smoldering frustration in his eyes was delightful. “You didn’t think anything was going to happen, did you? I take my safety very seriously.” I mocked.
“You should.” His tone was dark and menacing as it had been when we met, but this time that surge didn’t feel directed at me. If anything, it seemed protective. “You aren’t finished checking me,” he intoned, reaching out and latching onto one of my hands. Placing his own behind it, he dragged my palm around his waistband slowly. Then around his back. “Never assume someone’s clean. Weapons don’t have to be large to be effective.”
“Said every man ever,” I teased, though the masculine scent of his was potent this close and I was having trouble filling my lungs.
His nostrils flared and the predatory intensity he radiated seemed to double. I drank it in, my nipples hardening.
Too much. Too much, too fast.
My lungs froze and my hand went to his chest, pushing him backward so that he sat back down on the edge of my rumpled comforter. “Tell me why you wanted to have breakfast with me,” I demanded.
