Page 33 of The Rejected King
Emree could teach an educational course on self-control. At the very least, she should win an award for the restraint it was taking to keep her distance. She could see it now, someone congratulating her fornotinvading the king of Enderlin’s personal space just to get a whiff of his deliciously smelling neck.
“Is the book in your bag?” he asked, bringing her back to the moment.
“Yes,” she said with a faint nod.
He gestured to the bag. “May I ?”
She nodded again. At this point, her saying no to him, for anything, seemed highly improbable. Her heart banged, pounding up through her neck to her ears. Everything inside her—her heart, mind, and feelings—were all mixed up and twisted. Her reactions to the king made no sense. Emree was in love with Portlend and had been her entire life. Besides that, King Davin was her boss and not just any boss. He was the king of Enderlin—the most unattainable man in the kingdom.
Emree steeled herself and drew a figurative line in the sand—a line her heart WOULD NOT CROSS. She would become immune to his charms. She would focus on Portlend, though Portlend had never looked at her the way the king looked at her right now, like she was more adored and wanted than anything in this world.
Slowly, the king reached inside her bag then lifted the book up.
What had Emree been thinking? The king didn’t want to read a book about fairy tales.
Embarrassment flooded her, and she immediately went after the book. “I don’t think...” She reached for the book just as King Davin switched it to the other hand. “I’ve changed my mind.”
He held it up, reading the title out loud. “A Collection of Fairy Tales.” He gave Emree a questioning smile. “This is your favorite?”
Emree jumped, reaching to grab the book out of his hand. “Maybe.”
The king flipped the book over, trying to read the back. “Stories of love—” Emree yanked on his arm, trying to make it hard for him to read “—that are strong enough to survive Desolation and beyond.”
“I know it’s stupid.” She continued to stretch for the book, feeling completely self-conscious. “Forget I brought it.”
“I think it sounds good,” he said, once again switching the book to his other hand.
“No, you don’t.” She stood on her tiptoes, extending her arms. The position put her body right up against his. Suddenly, keep-away was Emree’s favorite game.
King Davin moved his arms behind her, wrapping them around her body, the book pressed against her back. Her chest moved up and down with his, and her heart raced to a shocking level; there couldn’t be anything left but full-on cardiac arrest, and that would certainly be embarrassing.
The king looked down at her, his light brown eyes stealing her breath. “I want to read it.”
Emree shook her head, regretting and loving everything that passed between them. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He smiled.
“It’s not what you’re used to.” Something about this innocent book exchange with her boss didn’t feel innocent anymore. It felt very, very intimate. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”
The king pressed himself even closer, putting every sense in Emree’s body on high alert.
“I know what I like,” he whispered.
“No, you don’t,” she whispered back.
A loud knock sounded at the door and Emree jumped away, putting at least three feet of space between them; she looked down and fixed her dress then ran a hand across her hair, intentionally avoiding the king’s gaze.
King Davin rubbed his face.
The knock came again, louder and longer.
His voice came out rough. “Come in,” he called.
Millar leaned his head around the door. “Your Majesty, Miss Patrice Kenson is here to see you.”
Good ol’ Pat was here to save the day. How wonderful. Except, it reallywaswonderful.Pat Ricewas the one the king should be playing keep-away with. Not Emree.
“Tell her—” the king began to say, but Emree cut him off.
