Page 29 of Twelve Nights In The Prince's Bed

‘No.’

He arched a brow. ‘You do realise that by turning yourself into a challenge, you’re making me want to win?’

He saw the way she shivered, her eyes almost pleading with his. ‘There’s nothing to win. My love life is none of your business.’

Frustration arced through him, but it wasn’t necessary to push this now. They had more than enough time together to explore the matter at his leisure. ‘Can you be ready in an hour?’

Poppy stared at him with obvious consternation. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course.’

She hesitated, and he could see that she was torn between agreeing and fighting. Eventually, common sense won out.

‘Fine,’ she murmured. ‘But only in the service of this ruse.’

He moved closer to Poppy, eyes sparking with hers, relishing this chance to be close to her, even just for a moment. ‘Exactly as it should be,deliciae.’

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, then, unsatisfied with such a pointless, insufficient contact, yanked Poppy hard against his body and took her mouth, claiming it with all the desperate, angry, sad, needy emotions that had been pummelling him all day. Suddenly, he saw the chasm of pain in his chest, saw it as it always was: a part of him. But he saw an antidote, a solution: Poppy. When he kissed her, that pain became almost bearable, and for a moment, he forgot. Forgot that he was only the spare. That none of this should have been his. Forgot that he was walking through life in another man’s shoes, forgot the survivor guilt that dogged him mercilessly, so that he was simply a man, making love to a woman.

‘Adrastos,’ she groaned into his mouth, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his hips, desperately trying to be closer to him so he felt her groan deep in his soul because what he wanted, more than anything, was to strip her naked and finish what they’d started last night. He pushed his hands into her hair, pulling it from the messy bun she’d scraped it into, drawing her head back so he could kiss her more, so he could devour her, kissing her until she was almost whimpering and she was grinding her hips in a rhythm that spoke of hunger and need, wanting him to take her, offering herself to him as much now as she had that night.

It terrified him, how much he wanted her. How much he wanted to forget her part in his family, how much he wanted to remove her from his family so she was justhis.Was this what had stopped her last night? Had she also felt some kind of shock at the strength of their connection?

As though he’d been burned, he pulled away from her quickly, doing his best to assume a cynical expression. ‘You definitely look the part now.’

Her eyes were hooded, her face flushed, her lips swollen from where he’d been sucking and pressing them, her body trembling, her nipples taut through the flimsy cotton of her shirt. He took in the picture of her and committed it to memory because she was the most beautiful and sexy woman he’d ever seen. But her eyes blinked in confusion and then hurt and shame and he felt the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach, his own sense of remorse.

He spun away from her only so he could move to the door.

‘One hour, Poppy. I’ll be back soon.’

He left the room without another word. He was too busy replaying what had just happened and wondering if he would ever be able to be alone with Poppy without losing control completely.

She’d chosen a dress that was conservative and simple, and yet somehow, perhaps because of the way Adrastos had kissed her not an hour earlier, Poppy felt distinctly...sexy. She stared at her reflection with a deep frown, her eyes taking in the image she saw in the mirror with more than a little uncertainty. She’d gone to extra effort tonight, some feminine pride insisting she really looked the part of Adrastos’s girlfriend.

The dress was beautiful—bought for a film premiere a couple of years ago and stored here at the palace, with all of her most exquisite clothing. It was burgundy in colour, with a halter neck that showed off Poppy’s toned arms, fitted all the way to the knees, and cinched at the waist with a belt in a matching material but with a slight pattern. The shoes were black and sky-high—fortunately, Poppy was comfortable in heels. For jewellery, Poppy had chosen a pair of pearl earrings that Clementine had given her for her sixteenth birthday.

‘Your mother was with me when I got these,’ Clementine had offered at the time, with a sad smile. ‘In Western Australia, we visited the most exquisite pearl property on the north coast. It was a wonderful holiday, for all of us. We both bought a pair, you know. I don’t know where your mother’s went, but I thought you should have these. I hope you like them, Poppy darling. I know she’d be thrilled for you to wear them.’

Poppy did wear them, but only rarely, because they were so special to her, she couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to them. But when she needed a little extra kick of confidence, to feel that her motherandfairy godmother were watching over her, the earrings were a must. And tonight definitely constituted a night for extra confidence.

Ten minutes before the hour was up, when Poppy conceded that yes, she was ready, a knock sounded at the door. Well, that was better than having him barge in. She crossed the room a little unsteadily.

This was all for show, she reminded herself, pulling the door inwards, the sharp barb she’d prepared freezing when she saw Eleanor on the other side.

‘Ellie!’ The relief was enormous. She threw her arms around her best friend and almost cried with relief.

Ellie laughed. ‘Goodness, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. I just—I’m glad to see you.’

Eleanor pulled back a little, studying Poppy thoughtfully. ‘I understand you have a date with my brother.’

Poppy bit down on her lower lip, nodding. Oh, how she hated the necessity of this lie.

‘Well, that’s fine, but first of all, come with me.’

‘Oh.’ Poppy looked over her shoulder. ‘He’ll be here any minute—’

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