Page 30 of The Fury Queen's Harem

And I was.

A warning flashed in my head. Did he know the Furies were me?

“My guardians are fine,” I said in a clipped tone. I didn’t trust the warlock, yet part of me tried to persuade me to let down my guard and let him in.

Could he manipulate a mind? But I hadn’t felt a nudge to the shield of my mind, and my head wasn’t foggy, either.

All I felt was a buzzing thrill coursing in my blood that had nothing to do with magic, but everything to do with Elvey’s presence and the purr of his voice.

While the dragon princes could stoke my lust like no other, Elvey electrified my every cell.

No matter how he made me feel, he wouldn’t reveal his true agenda, and there was no point in beating a dead horse. I should probably kiss him and see how it would turn out. If it didn’t turn out good, I’d just send him away.

“I’ll give you a kiss as I gave everyone else, as a form of blessing,” I lied.

He grinned, his eyes brightening up. “Really?”

Before he strode toward me, I said, “Stop!”

He spread his arms apart to show that he was unarmed and harmless. I swallowed a scold. Elvey didn’t need a weapon to harm me. Was he unaware that I knew he was a powerful warlock?

“You said you were going to kiss me,” he said. “Was that a tease?”

“No,” I said. “You don’t come to me. I come to you. And you’ll close your eyes when I kiss you. It won’t hurt, and it’ll be quick.”

He laughed, as if he actually looked forward to being hurt by my kiss. His laughter was richly sensual, which made me want to pull him to me and kiss him hard.

But I gave him a chiding look. “And you don’t kiss me back unless I order you to.”

“The direction is clear,” he whispered. “Elvey Fionn at your service.”

I’d heard the demons calling him Lord Elvey, and when he threw his full name easily at me like that, I was once again off balance.

Elvey Fionn was a Fae name, but he was a sorcerer.

“Close your eyes,” I demanded, “put your hands behind your back, and don’t try anything stupid.” If he did, I’d knee him in the groin. As a half-Fae, I possessed superior speed and he wouldn’t see it coming.

“I wouldn’t want that,” he said, as if reading my menacing intention. But if he was a mind reader, I’d have felt a brush in my head.

He shut his eyes, his lips stretching with lingering amused laughter.

Gingerly, I moved toward him, but stopped half a foot from him.

His thick lashes nearly touched the hollows under his eyes. His nose marked his highborn breed. He was not one who rose from the poor and gathered his power from scratch, like the sorcerers I’d heard of before I’d been banished. His features were so elegant, yet they weren’t lacking masculine beauty.

I sucked in a breath, my hand reaching toward him. I wanted to trace my fingers over the contour of his long, dark eyebrow, down to his high cheekbone, then his sculpted lips that seemed to be molded to perfection, before I kissed him.

I wanted it to be slow and sensual and take my time to thoroughly enjoy it. It wasn’t just for lifting the curse, and it wasn’t even because of hidden passion and lust. It was something more that I couldn’t put into words.

His lips parted, waiting with eagerness and promise—a promise unknown to me yet would be there.

Like love’s true kiss,a voice whispered in my head.

Even if it wasn’t true love, I wanted to taste this and embrace his seduction.

I traced my thumb over his cheek.

He became very still, not at the growls my monster guards made outside the door, but at my touch.

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