Ewan reached for Shannon’s hand, grasping it, getting her eyes on his.
He didn’t need to say what he was thinking. Her gaze lit with mischievous agreement and before Petrus or Eric could react, the prince and the lady were bolting for the door on the opposite side of the room.
“Catch us if you can!” Ewan couldn’t help but call out for the two to join the game.
He could practically hear Petrus’ deep sigh, but the giggle that his comment drew from Shannon made it all worth it.
Her hand was still in his, her skirts fluttering about her legs as they sprinted down the hallway, around a corner, and then a second corner where he pulled Shannon into an alcove and behind an enormous statue of the embodiment of the earth element. It had been chiseled by hands that had worked the stone centuries ago. That thought always served to humble him.
What would he leave behind?
He dragged his free hand over the scratchy stone surface right next to Shannon’s head. She was leaning back against it, and he was standing over her. He knew he was. He was hovering. Both of them were out of breath, waiting for the sound of the chasing footsteps. None came.
She was smiling up at him, but she still had not answered his question.
She smelled of water on the stones of a lake at sundown.
He didn’t know quite where the impulse came from, but he leaned forward and connected his forehead with hers, closing his eyes. Her hands moved to his neck, to the back of his head, pulling him to her.
It was as though their shared secret, this mutual agreement, was in the air between them. He was relying on her, but perhaps it was unfair not to recognize that she was also relying on him. She had every right to question him. She was to be his mate.
Traitor, his mind whispered.
But his hearts disagreed.
He did not want her to change her mind and nullify the agreement because he had enjoyed her company that morning. It had felt like it had in Fawha. Even when they argued it still felt the same.
And his head naming her traitor did nothing to undo the good first impression she had left him with, or the fact that she had seemed genuinely distressed that he should think that impression had been anything but honest.
He did not want her to change her mind because…
Because…
Then his lips met hers.
It drew a softly surprised intake of breath from her, but her arms went around him as he pulled her to him, his hands at her waist. And the kiss deepened. Her tongue was slow in its play with his and he felt himself begin to harden in his breeches. He wanted to have her against the rough clay of the statue, press her against it until it became a part of her, tethering her to this place for good.
She tasted like blackberries after the first spring rain.
He was about to lean her back against the clay when she pulled away, remaining in his arms but murmuring contrition.
“I can’t,” she said. “I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.”
“No, no, I agree,” he nodded, his mouth already seeking hers again.
Her lips parted willingly, a noise escaping her that prompted one of his hands to move to her ass. His breeches fit her too well. He wanted one of her breasts in his mouth, wanted to hear her moan for him again. Her kisses were eager, tongue licking against his, both of them breathless again. If they’d ever even caught their breath.
The shirt was slipping off one of her shoulders and he moved his mouth there, kissing his way from its curve to the slant of her neck.
He had wanted this from the moment he saw her in Fawha, wearing that bright smile of welcome. Had wanted it listening to her tease Malcolm, envying his friend for the prize he seemed to have won. Had wanted it standing on the parapet watching her carriage arrive.
The sound of footsteps made them both halt their movements, pressed together against the statue, out of sight but not out of hearing range. They held their breath, eyes meeting. They should step apart in case they were about to be discovered. They should step apart either way and forget this ever happened; it would be the sane thing to do. How could he let her into his hearts after what she had done?
But he had little choice since, despite his best efforts, she was already there.
Was this why he had wanted her for his queen?
He rested his forehead to hers again, the footsteps receding.
