Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Finally, she stopped and waved to a massive solid gold entrance decorated with the same runes on the king’s skin.
I swallowed the lump trying to grow in my throat.
She checked her clipboard. “This dinner will last two hours, and you’re in for a treat. The king’s chosen menu features our finest cuisine. He has requested the honor of returning you to your room, so I won’t see you again until tomorrow at morning shimmer.”
In case I stayed the night? Not gonna happen. Nein.
Ensuring I couldn’t run away, she gave the daunting door two hard raps before striding off, leaving me alone.
In the span of a heartbeat, the door swung open, and King Sebastian filled the doorway. Was there any man more imposing? His height forced me to look up. And up.
Tremors took root in my knees. Even now, part of me wished to run, but I planted my feet. Tonight, I glimpsed his character. For better or worse.
He’d showered, his black, iridescent-streaked hair still damp. But he hadn’t shaved, a dark shadow gracing his firm jaw. A white tunic stretched across his muscular chest and strained well-defined biceps. The open collar revealed a small dagger with a bejeweled hilt hanging from a chain.
“Come,” he said.
Warm shivers danced down my spine. If ever seduction had a voice, it was this man.
A familiar mantra filled my head. Find the rhythm. Keep the count.
Here we go. I glided inside and halted, heart racing. His scent permeated every molecule. Cool night air after rain, with hints of smoky amber and aged driftwood; clean, shadowed and electric. Calm on the surface, dangerously addictive underneath.
Then there was the suite itself. The entry opened into an elegant sitting area, all ice-blue tones and deep shadow, lit by softly glowing orbs that floated overhead with the grace of jellyfish. Low, sculpted furniture formed an intimate circle atop a woven rug patterned in swirling currents. Beyond it lay the dining space, subtly separated by a curved arch of polished stone.
Where was the bed? Part of me suspected he slept on a waterbed. A bed I would turn into a steaming kraken stew pot if ever I got angry in a dream. Not that I had any plans to sleep here.
My cheeks burned. Focus. A small dining table waited at the center, set for two.
Platters crowded the surface. Scrumptious cuts of seared fish glazed in dark herbs, jewel-bright fruits split and glistening, bread still warm enough to release curls of steam, bowls of something decadent and fragrant. I breathed deep. Mmm. Spices I didn’t recognize but instinctively longed to taste.
Two glasses of rich red wine, filled deep, waited.
Nothing felt rushed. Or accidental.
With a light, yet devastating, touch to my hip, King Sebastian escorted me to one of two chairs positioned across from each other at the table. His gloved fingers lingered for the briefest pause before he stepped away. I eased down.
“The dress I selected wasn’t acceptable?” he asked as he took his own seat. He spoke in Icelandic.
“It was—is—lovely, but it’s not mine.”
He frowned. “Your clothing was not available to you. I provided something you needed. Is thanking me not the diplomatic thing to do?”
As the daughter of a king and sister of a queen, I’d navigated my fair share of imperious behaviors. The lesson here was not what he hoped. If I didn’t wish to be walked on, I must show a measure of strength. Diplomatically, of course.
I gave him a sweet smile. “Is it appropriate for a man to give a revealing gown to a woman he’s only just met, majesty?”
“If he is king, everything he does is appropriate.”
Did I detect the barest tinge of amusement? So not the reaction I’d anticipated. “As a guest in your land, I will refrain from disagreeing…out loud.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “You are bolder than I expected.”
What a kind thing to say. The magic formula for any court. “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.
His brow arched. “No thanks for a dress, but for an observation.”
“When the observation is a treasure, yes.” I might as well be blunt, since I was so bold and all. “Why did you gift me the dress? Why have you assigned me a personal assistant? Why am I here, in your suite, enjoying a veritable feast with a king who should forget my existence until he wishes to send a message to my queen?”
His gaze dropped to my lips, and my heart skipped a beat.
The moment shattered when he placed a napkin on his lap. “I’d like it if you called me Sebastian.”
“Oh.” It was a courtesy afforded to few, I’d bet, but I wasn’t ready for such familiarity from the man who wreaked havoc on my nervous system. “I’d prefer to use our titles.”
“That is unfortunate, as I’ll be calling you Bronwyn. At least until I decide on your nickname.” He filled both our plates with selections from each dish. He added a second spoonful from the blue bowl. “You will like this one best.”