I can resist her for one evening, one full day, and one morning. In between, we’ll be asleep. I just have to keep her in her rooms or in public view at all times—and keep a sharp watch for her little tricks like the one she pulled on the ladder.
“Let’s go, Princess.”
“Where?”
She smooths her skirt and exchanges pleasantries with the smitten scribe.
“To your rooms. You’re grounded until tonight’s ball.”
I fully intend to lock her in there with her maid, the one place I’m permitted to seal her away and take a break from acting as her guard dog, so I can take care of my own case of raging blue balls before tonight’s torture test.
Briar
The damsel in distress act didn’t work on Killian—the way he grips my upper arm and marches me out of the library does squirmy things to my stomach even though he is undeniably furious with me—but it was useful for providing cover. Judging from the way the scribe rushed over to inquire whether I needed assistance, he didn’t suspect a thing.
Killian’s reputation among the ladies of this castle seems to involve a lot of unrequited lust. If I understand the seamstress’ gossip correctly, there was a time when he could be relied upon for a quick and fulfilling encounter, yet he never took a regular lover. Part of me is jealous.
The rest of me chooses to believe that he’s been waiting for me.
Outside the library, he releases his bruising hold on my arm but steers me in the direction of my private chamber like a human sheepdog. Cutting in front of me when I blithely attempt to continue past the turn.
I smile innocently. He scowls.
His scowl deepens when I pull the same trick a few minutes later. He herds me back on track.
“I still get so confused in this castle.” I smile slyly at him, letting him know the game is still on. A pair of stoic royal guards stationed on either side of the entrance to the wing where I’ve been given rooms actually smile in return when I cast a cheerful wave in their direction.
“Fools,” Killian mutters.
My cheeks ache from smiling so much. Charming and innocent. That’s me. Briar Rose, the woman kept under glass for a hundred years.
But he sees my darkness. Killian seesme.
When we arrive at my chamber and discover it empty, he snaps.
“Where are your maids?”
“I dismissed them for the afternoon.” I pace the huge room, wrenching my hands up behind my back. “The dressmakers tied my laces too tight. I cannot quite get the knot untied. If you would be so kind as to assist me, Sir Ironheart?—”
In a flash, he whirls me hard enough to bell my skirt out around my calves. He moves in close, forcing me to stumble back a few steps until my back presses against the carved wooden bedpost.
“The game you’re playing, little brat, is a dangerous one.”
“For whom?” I ask primly as everything inside me melts. My knees weaken. The sturdy bed creaks faintly as I lean into the post. Carved wood digs into my back.
“For both of us.” He looms over me. “Do you understand how Alistair would punish you if he caught you flirting with me this way?”
I rise on tiptoe, aiming for his lips, but he jerks back.
“I don’t want the prince, Killian. I want you.”
He inhales raggedly.
“That isn’t going to happen, Briar. What you want and what I want are two different things.”
“Are you sure?”
I advance upon him, stalking him as he backs up. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine.
