Page 70 of Royal Affair
The quiet certainty in her response cut through my rage like ice water. What the fuck was wrong with me? I'd just described graphic violence to the woman I was supposed to protect, all because another man had been near her. I felt like my sanity, was slipping through my fingers.
"Forget I said that," I said roughly, putting the car back in drive. "We're going home."
But as I pulled back into traffic, I caught her reflection in the passenger window. She wasn't looking at me with fear or disgust.
She was looking at me with something that looked dangerously like desire.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Evangeline
"Would you like me to recite exactly how I've envisioned tearing him apart and delivering his hands to you in a box?"
James's words hung in the air between us, turning the atmosphere in the car glacial. I looked at him, unable to breathe, unable to respond. His face was a mask of controlled fury, eyes hard and bright as cut sapphires. In that moment, I saw the soldier beneath the bodyguard—the man who had survived combat zones, who had taken lives, who possessed a capacity for violence I'd only glimpsed until now.
I sat in my own little bubble thinking about that kiss, he claimed me finally! That kiss though, although i know it was part fulled by anger at on going argument. It was vigorous and raw.Part of me was terrified. Another part—a part I scarcely recognized—was exhilarated.
I glanced back over to james i could see he was waiting for me to say something to his statement that i had barley given any attention to in my haze of adrenaline.
"You don't mean that," I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
James's jaw clenched, the muscle there jumping. "Don't I?"
He turned away, gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the steering wheel creaked under the pressure. The silence stretched between us, taut as a wire.
"Frederick is harmless," I said at last, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed it.
James let out a harsh laugh. "He's many things. Harmless isn't one of them."
"And you pulling a fire alarm? Creating a false emergency? Was that supposed to be helpful?" I demanded, finding my anger again.
"It got you away from him, didn't it?"
"That wasn't your call to make!" I snapped, fury rising again. "I don't need you deciding who I spend time with or who teaches me?—"
"Yes, you do!," he interrupted, turning to face me with an intensity that stole my breath. "You need someone who sees the threats around you. Someone who understands the stakes. Someone who can actually protect you, not fabricate security concerns as an excuse to put his hands on you."
"Is that what this is about? His hands on me?" I challenged, leaning closer. "Or is it that they weren't yours?"
Something flashed in his eyes—dark and hungry—before he locked it away again.
"From now on, if you need self-defense training, you'll get it from me," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Not Frederick. Not anyone else. Me."
"And if I refuse?" I asked, even as something inside me thrilled at the possessiveness in his tone.
James started the car again, pulling back into traffic. "You won't."
The certainty in his voice should have infuriated me—would have infuriated me coming from anyone else. Instead, it sent a wave of heat through my body that had nothing to do with anger.
We rode in charged silence back to the penthouse. Every few blocks, I'd steal a glance at his profile—the firm line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the careful way he scanned the surrounding streets. Even angry, he was magnificent. Even frightening, he was the only person I truly felt safe with.
What did that say about me?
When we reached the penthouse, I headed straight for my bedroom, needing space, needing to think. James performed his usual security check without a word. The normalcy of the routine felt jarring after what had just passed between us.
"Evangeline."
I turned at the sound of my name, surprised to find him standing in the doorway of my room. I hadn't heard him approach. He could move like a ghost when he wanted to.
