Page 84 of The Forgotten Queen
Sydria smiled, feeling a wave of embarrassment fall over her. “I guess we’d better go have lunch.”
“I guess so.” Marx didn’t immediately let go; it almost felt as though he didn’twantto let go. “Hop on,” he said, patting the top of the board. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“What? Do you think I’m a queen or something?” she said as she climbed on top, dangling her legs over each side of the board.
“Something like that.” His lips grew into an amused smile as he looked over her. “Hold on tight,” he said, pulling the board forward. “Unless you want me to rescue you again.”
That’s exactly what she hoped for.
Lunch was a spread of sandwiches and exotic fruits that only grew in the kingdom of Cristole. Everyone sat in a large circle on the blankets, eating, talking, and laughing.
It was strange.
A little over a week ago, Sydria had watched these same people do this same thing, but at the time, she had been an outsider looking in. Now, she was the one sitting next to Marx, but this time, he had a smile on his face.
“You’ve got fruit dip on your lips.” He gently brushed his fingers across the side of her mouth.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
His hand grazed the side of her arm as it dropped to the ground beside them.
“Can I take your plates, Your Majesties?” a servant asked.
Marx gathered the remains of Sydria’s lunch and handed it to the young man. “Thanks, Gillson.” The servant nodded and walked away.
Of course he knows the servant’s name.
That was the kind of guy Marx was.
“What do we do next at a beach party?” Sydria asked, pulling one knee up to her chest. She didn’t care what was on the agenda as long as she got to spend time with Marx.
“Whatever we want to do.” His fingers wiggled through the sand, finding hers. He leaned in closer, pressing his shoulder against hers. His other arm rested on her knee. Sydria wasn’t sure of her past, but she was definitely sure she’d never experienced this much skin-to-skin contact in her life.
The hot sun beat down on them, melting Sydria—or maybe it was Marx and his touch that melted everything inside of her.
She was currently on fire.
“It’s hot,” she said.
His face inclined closer to hers, and his gaze dropped to her lips. “Very hot.”
“I heard it’s a record summer.” She rubbed the back of her neck, glancing once at Marx’s lips too.
“You’re the one who’s studied the weather,” he said, somehow getting close enough to skim the tip of his nose lightly across hers. His fingers brushed her bare leg, creating small swirls over her thigh.
Sydria puffed out a gentle laugh. His joke would have been funnier if she wasn’t liquefying from his touch. Or if she could actually focus on a coherent thought.
“I can’t seem to turn the heat down,” she breathed between them, trying to somehow gain control over her racing heart.
One side of Marx’s lips tugged into a half-smile. She saw it because her eyes kept drifting back to his mouth. “Are we still talking about the weather?”
She swallowed, but somehow her throat was still dry. “What else would we be talking about?”
He moved closer, filling the space between them with his breaths. “Nothing. Just the weather,” he whispered.
Sydria’s eyes shifted to his lips…again. “The sweltering heat.”
“Yes, the heat.”
