Page 11 of Coronation
“I’m glad you did come here tonight,” I tell him, even as the words make me want to run and hide.
Am I actually flirting with a king right now? Is this happening?
His throat bobs, betraying the effect this statement has on him. It’s kind of intoxicating to know this man wants me, when I’m sure he’s had a lot of practice in never letting his true feelings show, or allowing anyone power over him.
As if he knows I’m onto him, King Benedict steps closer, leaning in so I can hear the low timbre of his voice over a chorus of voices that’s risen nearby. “I must say I’m relieved,” he says, and something hot and restless shifts beneath my skin as his arm brushes mine. “I’m not sure I could have recovered from the rejection in time to truly enjoy the night.”
For the first time since we arrived at this house, I feel myself smile.Reallysmile. “That’s a very good line. Have you used it before?”
A quiet chuckle greets my words. “As a matter of fact, no. I haven’t. Admittedly, rejection isn’t something I come by often.”
“It must be your hair,” I muse, and dizzy with my own daring, I reach up to brush aside a wayward lock of brown hair from where it has fallen across his forehead. “Or the shirt?”
He nods, expression composed into one of quiet thoughtfulness. “A possibility that never occurred to me, Miss Flowers. I have heard that black is my color.”
“It is,” I agree, dimly registering that I’ve become so absorbed in this conversation that the rest of the party has faded away. Even so, I’m becoming aware of a shift in the energy surrounding us as the guests edge past the bounds of an ordinary celebration, shepherding in something much more sordid.
I can sense myself being carried away, too, and, for once in my life, I resolve to allow it.
Five
Benedict
Whether I enjoy it or not, I’m well accustomed to people looking at me.
Growing up a member of one of the most well-known families in the world does tend to come with a great number of eyes on you. Even when I did my best to blend into the background and allow my pompous, self-important older brother to take center stage at every possible opportunity, I could never manage to disappear completely.
Funnily enough, I find that I don’t resent the attention I’m receiving tonight.
Only hours ago, I was fleeing to the maze for a few moments of solitude. Now, I’m at a party with some of the wealthiest, most prestigious guests on the planet, and the weight of their gazes fills me with nothing but dark, possessive satisfaction.
I want them to see us together.
Considering my reputation and the social limitations of my poor temperament, I’m almost disoriented by herreturning my interest. Perhaps I’m being a fool, she is an actor after all, a professional pretender.
That being said, I’ve spent enough time with people who want something from me to spot one at a hundred yards. Instinct tells me that Zelda Flowers—who is rather preposterously out of my league, too young for me, and quite possibly the least irritating person I’ve ever encountered—is wholly genuine.
The envious gazes of the other guests follow our every step as I guide her through the parlor and out onto the terrace. It’s a warm summer’s night, and the lazy, decadent notes of jazz from the band carry out through the open window as we pause at the low stone wall that stands between us and the gardens.
It feels as though I’ve stepped into a dream. Though not even my most sordid fantasies could have conjured up the woman at my side. Zelda was beautiful in the light of the candles flickering atop the bar inside, her heart shaped face framed by hair just a shade lighter than black, gazing at me through eyes that recall the summer sky.
The sight of this woman alone was so striking that the impulse to keep speaking to her was something almost beyond my control. Now, with her delicate features illuminated by the full moon sitting high above us… Ethereal is the word that comes to mind.
I have no memory of being so deeply attracted to a woman, not just physically, but also to the intelligent, gentle way she speaks. Each word makes me crave the next, and every time I look at her, I find myself wanting to look longer.
“Do you have something on your mind, Your Highness?” she murmurs, her melodic voice joining the music.
The formality of my title chafes, but I don’t correct her. Slowly, I take a sip of my drink, considering how to proceed. “I’m curious what you hoped to find here tonight.”
What were you looking for, darling? What do you need from me? Whatever it is, I will provide it.
“I didn’t come expecting to find a king.” She smiles, looking a little more hesitant as seconds pass and it becomes clear to her that the answer she provided is insufficient. “To meet someone. For sex. I mean, that’s probably what brought everyone here, right?” Color rises on her pale cheeks, but to her credit, Zelda doesn’t turn away.
Slowly, and giving her plenty of time to reject my touch, I lift my hand, tracing her full lips with my thumb. “It is,” I rasp, conscious of the state of my cock and how it seems to grow stiffer with each breath she takes. “But that isn’t the only thing, is it?”
Her lips part, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep myself from kissing her. We’re still standing just beside the entrance to the garden, and we don’t move, even when another couple hurries past into the darkness. When their voices have faded away, Zelda edges closer, and my heart—unaccustomed to being so affected by something as simple as a woman looking at me—stutters.
“What makes you say that?” Her voice, melodic and gentle, raises actual goosebumps on my arms.
