“All right, all right. But I see your proficiency in the Huo language has changed little since you were a child.” There was a teasing quality to the cadence of his words that made her roll her eyes.
She pushed his shoulder. “I have a better grasp of the language than you.”
“Are you sure about that? Because last time you said something about tiger stripes that sounded strange to my foreign ears. What was the phrase you said again? A tiger who doesn’t know?—”
“Enough!” Biyu reached forward and covered his mouth with her hands; more warmth spread over her cheeks—this time from embarrassment. She didn’t want to remember her previous blunder and the confidence she had delivered her line with, only to realize moments later that she had messed it up.
She could feel his smile—or smirk, more like—beneath her fingers, and it took her a second to realize how inappropriately close she was to him. How his breath slipped between her fingers, how her body was almost flush against his. She began to move away, but he grabbed her waist before she could.
Her hands trailed down to his chest; not because she necessarily wanted to feel the impossible hard muscular planes,but because she didn’t know where else to keep them. This was all so new to her, and yet it feltright.
“You tease me too much,” she murmured, glancing at the water beyond the pergola. She could make out the buzzing insects flying over the surface of it through the slats of the railings surrounding the structure.
A quiet lull fell over the both of them. Nikator brushed his knuckle over her jaw. A ripple of fiery sensation followed the movement and she inhaled sharply when his thumb swept over her lower lip.
“You look beautiful when you blush. Teasing you is the only way I can get you to loosen up,” he murmured ever so softly.
She could already feel her face growing hotter. She blushed way too much around him, with or without the teasing.
“There are other ways to make me blush that don’t involve annoying me.”
“I annoy you?”
“Only sometimes.”
“I’ll take that over hatred any day.”
Biyu fiddled with her necklace to keep her hands busy, and then remembered the way he had placed it around her neck and the words he had spoken to her. How he had called herhis wife.The memory made her stomach flutter and her chest clench. She found that she didn’t dislike the notion of being his wife. Even if … it was all a magical mistake.
For a moment she tried to forget who they were, how they were on opposite sides of a battle—his loyalties lying with the emperor and hers with her brother—and how they should hate each other instead of wishing to kiss one another.
But as much as she tried to will everything away, she couldn’t. There was just too much bad blood between them. She could still remember the fear that had jolted through her the night the throne was usurped. The blood that had coatedthe floors. The screams. The horror as she watched her family members die. The unmistakable fear that had drenched through her being when she met a pair of sapphire eyes and the haunting words that chilled her down to her soul.
“Do you, too, wish to resist His Majesty’s claim to that wretched throne?”
She couldn’t forget the fact that they were enemies. The fact that he would kill her if he knew what she was up to. And the fact that they were never supposed to be here like this.
She hadkissedthe man who’d ruined her.
Another moment passed and, eventually, they found themselves sitting on one of the stone seats. Nikator took up most of the space, his massive form dwarfing herandthe bench. It was almost comical the way he took up so much room. Her shoulder and thigh touched his; her body betrayed all logic and reacted to the small contact, heat curling in her belly.
A soft patter of rain disturbed their silence.
Biyu clutched her knees tightly until her knuckles turned white and bloodless. A bluish-silver flash of lightning, followed by the crack of thunder, lit the pergola and she released a ragged breath. Her nerves pulled taut and doubts began settling in.
What was she even doing here?
Why had she kissed him? Not once, buttwice?
All the things he had confessed to her—that she was beautiful, that she was vibrant, that he couldn’t stop thinking about her for years—was that all it took to unravel the hatred she had caging her heart? Was that all it took to crumble her resolve?
Shame, guilt, and a maelstrom of negative emotions fogged her thoughts.
Nikator’s hand lightly rested on hers. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. Everything. Particularly,you. But she didn’t say that; instead, her panic swelled and she whispered, “We should go back.”
If he appeared disappointed, he didn’t show it. He only nodded curtly, then waved at the brewing storm. “Let’s wait until the rain settles.”
