Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Oh, you’re finally awake.”
I screamed, jolting around to look at the owner of the voice. My elbow slipped in my panic, and the loss of my balance sent me tumbling to the floor with the blanket wrapped around me. “What the—”
“I must say, of all the greetings you could have offered me, this is by far the most amusing one.”
Ugh.
It was him.
“What are you doing coming in here while I was sleeping? Are you a pervert?” I untangled myself from the blanket and hauled myself to my feet. “And that’s my desk!”
Kalon’s lips pulled into a small smirk that made his purple-gold eyes spark with amusement. “I’m aware. I’m borrowing it.”
“But… my work!” I reached out a hand before stopping. “My system,” I whimpered.
“System? You called that mess a system?” He raised his dark eyebrows. “That was chaos.”
“It was organised chaos,” I mumbled. “I knew where everything was.”
“If you say so.” The bastard leant back in my chair and linked his fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Ahem.
Right.
I did need to greet him properly.
I pulled out my skirt and curtseyed. “Welcome back to the castle, Your Highness.”
“Thank you. Now…” He tapped his cheek.
I stilled, mid-curtsey. “Excuse me?”
“Isn’t a kiss on the cheek how one greets their fiancé?”
“Then perhaps you should find a fiancé willing to greet you in such a manner,” I said flatly, straightening my spine. “Engaged or not, we’re little more than strangers, and I’m not in the habit of being intimate with strangers.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He stood up and walked around the desk. “Shall we get to know each other a little better then?”
I scratched beneath my ear, looking away. “Must we?”
“It will make for a much happier married life if we do.” Kalon stopped in front of me, and the amusement in his purple eyes made the gold flecks somehow shine brighter. “Shall we try it?”
“Maybe another time.” I patted his arm and walked past him. “What did you do to my work?”
“I organised it. You can thank me later.” He sat on the couch I’d just been sleeping on and got comfortable, resting his arm across the back of it. His black hair swept down in front of his eyes, and there was just enough buttons undone on his white shirt that I could peek at his toned physique.
There was definitely a six-pack under there. Nobody who had shoulders and pecs like his had a beer belly.
Goddamn it, why was he so handsome?
“I doubt it, Your Highness,” I replied, moving his work out of my way.
“Your Highness? There’s no need for such formalities between us, Alicia. You’re my fiancée.”
So you keep saying.
“Then how should I address you?”
He pursed his lips in thought. “Kalon will do.”
“If you insist.”
“You could also go for husband, honey, darling, lover—”
“I think your name will suit me just fine, thank you,” I said sharply.
Did this man just ask me to call him honey? And darling? And lover?
This man?
Grand Duke Kalon Stein?
The most feared man on the continent?
What a strange turn of events.
I peered across the room at him and rested my chin on my hand. “What were you doing in here anyway? Were you watching me sleep? Should I be alarmed about it being a fetish of yours?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Hayes and Ark briefed me on what I needed to know, and I merely wished to greet my darling.”
I wrinkled up my nose. “Don’t ever say that again.”
His lips tugged to one side. “Why? Don’t you like it, honey?”
“Please leave. If you don’t, I fear I may ask you to kill me to put me out of my misery.”
He laughed, throwing his head back, and I froze.
He… could laugh? And so prettily, too?
“What? Are you surprised that I can laugh?”
“A little bit,” I admitted. “The last time we met, you threatened to kidnap me or kill me, so forgive me for having a slightly warped impression of you.”
Kalon tilted his head. “It’s not slightly warped. After all, I did successfully manage to kidnap you.”
“I’m not sure a father selling off his daughter can be referred to as kidnap. That’s more like trafficking, but feel free to call it whatever you wish.” I pulled my work back towards me and pulled out the treasury documents I was looking over earlier. “Would you li—”
“Is that what you think happened? That your father sold you to me?”
I peered over at him. His expression was dark, something that was exacerbated by the coldness in his gaze.
“Is that not what happened?” I asked, leaning forward on the desk and resting my chin on my hand. “I informed him of my wish to marry someone else, and he told me it was impossible because of the trade deal on the table. He chose money and honour over what I wanted. That trade deal would not be happening without this engagement. How is that not the sale of a person?”