Page 69 of Throne of Dreams
“Some books have certain magical properties that allow them to record history as it happens,” he continued, as though he hadn’t scared the shit out of her. “I have no doubt that your brother’s book is one of such quality.”
“Aran is quite talented,” she agreed, keeping her eyes on him.
Tiernan remained quiet, and Maeve couldn’t read him. His mannerisms were cool and icy, but his eyes were a swirling storm of…chaos? Anger? She flipped through a few pages of her book and examined the notes she took while reading, then repeated the process when he continued to stare at her and not speak.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You were not at training.” His voice was low and menacing.
Affronted, Maeve reared back.
“And you were not on time,” she countered. She shrugged then, flippant. “I got tired of waiting.”
His gaze flicked to the open books spread before her on the table. “What have you learned so far about the Aurastone and Astralstone?”
“Admittedly, not much.” She hadn’t even opened Rowan’s book yet. “I was getting ready to read about them and then you barged in looking all…” She waved her hand up and down at him.
“All what?” He sidled up to the side of the desk and casually leaned his hip against the hard oak. He towered above her and the flecks of gold in his eyes sparked like the banked embers of a flame.
“Aggravated. Annoyed.” Maeve looked up at him. If he was intentionally trying to fluster her, she refused to let him win. “Angry.”
“I’m not any of those things.” Tiernan folded his arms and scraped his teeth along his bottom lip.
Her gaze betrayed her and dipped down to his mouth. To his perfect lips. “Then what are you?”
“Aroused.” He hauled her out of the chair, pulling her against him. His hands gripped her hips, and he jerked her forward, grinding her against the obvious bulge straining against his pants. She braced her hands against the solid frame of his chest. Her knees quivered and a distinctive heat pooled between her thighs. He inhaled deeply, then lowered his head so his lips barely brushed against the sensitive skin between her neck and ear.
When he spoke, his deep voice skated across her cheek and prickling tingles of awareness caused her to shudder in his hold. “Since you felt the need to skip training today, then I think we should work on other things.”
Maeve’s fingers trailed up his arms and around his neck. “Such as?”
“Your ability to thwart unwanted advances.”
She bristled in his arms. “Excuse me?”
“Fae, especially male fae, can be very convincing.” He grabbed her wrist and planted a kiss just below her palm. Then he trailed those scorching kisses all the way up her arm to her shoulder. Maeve’s thighs clenched together. “At Court, when the world is their stage, they’re usually on their best behavior. At parties, however, when distractions are at their finest, they are often at their worst.”
Maeve’s head fell back as his hot tongue swirled up the column of her neck. “You mean like the Autumn Ceilie?”
“That’s an extreme example,” he paused, “but yes.”
“Will your party be similar in style?”
“Not exactly.” He edged her backward until her heels bumped into the wall behind her and she was pinned between his body and smooth, cool stone. Above them, the mural began to ripple and change its form again. “It’s a masquerade party as well, but it will be less—”
“Crude?” she suggested. “Primal? Sexual?”
“Yes.”
She arched a brow. “Then what’s the problem?”
His hand slid from her hip to her ass, then squeezed. “I want to make sure you’re aware of your surroundings at all times.”
An odd request. “And what will you be doing, my lord?”
“I’ll have other matters to attend.”
If he hadn’t been pressed up against her, she might not have noticed the way his muscles tensed. If he hadn’t been so close, she might not have seen the clench of his jaw, or the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. But he was barely a breath away, and she saw all of it.
