Page 102 of The Forgotten Queen
The way she moved into a room.
The way she talked.
The way her kind eyes offered reassurance whenever he needed it.
Everything about her, everything she did, was beautiful.
He knocked on her door.
“Come in!” she sang out.
Marx smiled.
Her door wasn’t locked.
He didn’t know why that one little gesture meant so much, but it did.
He pushed the door open, slowly revealing hiswife.
Sydria stood facing a three-paneled mirror. Her hair was coiled into a bun at the top of her head, topped with a golden crown decorated with emerald stones. She wore the mermaid-cut dress that she’d designed with Paula. The dress was gold with a layer of black lace covering the top of it. The fabric pulled tight around Sydria’s body, fanning out at the bottom with a short train. It had long sleeves and a high neck. But the best part, the part that Marx died over, was the open back. The keyhole showed off a perfect oval of her smooth skin and delicate lines, starting from the base of her neck, ending at her lower back.
She turned over her shoulder slightly, pinning him with her dark eyes.
His breath caught.
She was striking.
Elegant.
Alluring.
Devastatingly appealing.
Words couldn’t describe.
Marx took his time running his eyes up the length of her body, soaking in every inch of her beauty, until his greedy stare met hers.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She demurred, turning her head back to the mirror.
He walked to her, so much purpose in each step until he stood behind her. He leaned in close, smelling her freshly applied gardenia perfume.
“I like your dress,” he whispered. His finger went to the base of her neck where the back of her dress was open and slowly traced a line down the curves of her spine.
Sydria turned her head, putting her cheek against the tip of his nose. “Are you finger painting?”
He laughed as his hands closed around the sides of her arms, and his tone came out husky. “We might need to add this dress to the list of things you’re not supposed to wear.”
“Pretty soon, I’ll have nothing left to wear,” she breathed out.
He pulled her in closer, feeling her back against his chest. “Would that be so bad?”
It was her turn to laugh, something soft and throaty that drove him crazy.
“Your Majesty,” Idella said, rushing into the room. “I found the earrings I told you about.”
Sydria startled and tried to pull away, but Marx held her close.
