Page 32 of Bride of the Black Dragon
As I speak, I realize the words are true. I’m not unwilling anymore. In fact, the thought of what I must do—what Xaren and I must do together—makes me feel warm and eager inside.
But how can I convince him of that?
I have an idea.
“Find me something else to wear—not the lace dress the Queen sent. Something different,” I say to Tanzy. “Something…seductive.”
“Of course, my Lady!” She gives me a wink. “I know just the thing.”
“Thank you.” I nod.
I’m hoping that maybe if I look good, Xaren may be more willing to take me. Also, I’m sick to death of the awful white lace dress the Queen ordered me to wear. It’s not doing any good as far as I can see. It just reminds me of her whenever I wear it—and that’s not what I want to be thinking of while trying to seduce my husband.
For that is my plan for tonight—I must seduce him. I must let him know I’m not unwilling—convince him that I want this—that I want him.
It’s the best plan I can come up with—I just hope it works.
Tanzy scrubs me in scented rose water and brushes my hair until it shines like a silver waterfall. Then she helps me into a new night gown—one made of Damson-silk—finer and softer than anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s a soft lavender color that looks good with my complexion and my triple-ringed eyes. It’s also so thin that it shows the tight points of my nipples and the cleft of my sex where it clings to me.
Over the gown, I wear a thick, soft, foxen-fur robe that will keep me warm and conceal my near-nakedness from prying eyes in the corridor. It’s silver and almost the same color as my hair. I have fur slippers to match too, which should keep my feet warm—the flagstones are cold.
Tanzy finishes me off with a tiny dab of lip stain and two drops of a soft, floral scent behind my ears.
“There! My Lady, you look well-nigh irresistible!” she exclaims, when she’s finished with me. She puts her hands on her hips, admiring her handiwork. “No man could keep his hands off you, looking like that,” she declares.
I only hope that she’s right—I guess I’ll find out.
18
ELAINA
The same servant is waiting for me when I emerge from my rooms and he has a message for me.
“The Queen says that since the Dark Prince is well enough to go horseback riding and sit at dinner, he’s well enough to fuck,” he says bluntly. “She ordered me to tell you that you’d better get a baby in your belly tonight for she’s going to have you inspected by the Court Physician tomorrow to be certain you’re no longer intact. She says to tell you your virgin barrier had best be gone when he checks or you’ll get a whipping and this time she won’t allow anyone else to take it for you.”
I feel myself go cold all over when I remember the brutal lashes of the whip against Xaren’s broad back. I don’t want that to happen to me! I don’t think I could take it. I’m not a big strong warrior—I’m soft and small and much weaker than the Dark Prince. I don’t want to be whipped.
It seems I must bleed tonight or I will bleed tomorrow—but how can I convince Xaren to take me?
Stick to the plan, I tell myself, trying to calm my racing heart. Seduce him—make him want you. You can do it, Elaina—his Drake already wants you—he said so himself. So doesn’t that mean that he must want you, too?
I don’t know—I only know that I must not fail tonight.
But it seems that Xaren is not in the mood for company. I knock on his door a solid ten minutes before he finally, grudgingly, comes to open it for me. He steps back and I see that he’s wearing his long black sleep trousers again and nothing else. His broad, bare chest is once more on display—I have to admit my eyes linger on his muscular form.
But when I look up at his face, I can see his displeasure at having me there. He’s scowling and the golden Drake eye is piercing as it glares at me through his black hair.
However, I can’t let his temper put me off. This is now a matter of life and death—and also I don’t want to be whipped tomorrow.
“Took you long enough to answer. Don’t you think it’s ridiculous for you to keep locking your door when you know I must come in anyway?” I ask, pushing past him.
“I had hoped you’d get the message that I don’t want you here,” he says bluntly.
His rudeness almost puts me off—almost. But I can’t let him shake me. I think of the whip with the jagged shards of metal fixed to the end of its lashes and remember my purpose.
“I don’t care if you want me here or not,” I say breezily. “Because I want to be here.” I step up to him and put my arms around his neck. “And I think you’ll change your mind if you give me a chance.”
“Give you a chance to do what?” he asks, frowning down at me. His arms are at his sides—he’s not hugging me back, but at least he’s not pushing me away. I consider that a win—sort of.
