Gambling With the Crown(38)
He just couldn’t recall it right this moment. And he had to cease this demonstration, before it turned into something that would embarrass them both. Already, he’d lost control of his ability to regulate his body’s response.
Which was going to be quite obvious in another few seconds.
Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth from hers. Heard her intake of breath, her shocked gasp when she realized what had just happened. Her eyes fluttered open and for a moment he saw everything in them.
Lust, confusion, need, pain—so many emotions crossed those lovely eyes before she locked them down tight and pressed her lips together. Her fingers were still clutched in his robes. He thought she might let him go too quickly, might give away the game—but she didn’t. Not Emily. No, she let him go softly, smoothed her fingers over his chest, her gaze dropping from his as she did so.
The shy, desperately-in-love bride. By Allah, he was proud of her for it, even if it wasn’t quite the response he’d been looking for. He’d wanted her bolder and more passionate, but this first reaction was perfect.
She was amazing, his Emily. And beautiful. That had certainly been a surprise.
Guido’s people had not turned her into someone else. They’d simply showcased the beautiful body she already had, highlighted her features—her cat’s eyes and her lush chocolate hair. Not to mention those lips he’d just kissed. He’d never seen them in anything but a serious expression—maybe the occasional smile—but like this? Moist and swollen from the pressure of his mouth on hers? So enticing, like the sweetest honey?
How had he managed to ignore her charms for four years?
“Can you walk down the stairs?” he asked, because he had to say something. Something normal, regardless that his heart pounded in his chest and he could still feel the heat of that kiss down to his toes.
She glanced down the steep stairwell. “I’ll do my best.”
He took her hand in his, gripped it tight. “I’ll hold you, Emily. I won’t let you fall.”
She smiled then, but it wavered at the corners, and he knew she was feeling overwhelmed. Guilt pierced him. He’d dragged her into this out of desperation, and now he wasn’t sure it had been the right thing to do. Still, it was done, and he couldn’t turn back now.
“I know you won’t.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked suddenly.
Because, he realized with a start, he wanted something about this to be real. He was back in Kyr after a long absence, and the father who’d filled his childhood with such confusing emotion was dying. The metaphorical ground—the ground he’d taken for granted, no doubt—was being ripped out from under him.
And he wanted something—someone—to hold on to. Something in his life that made sense. Just for now. Just this once.
She squeezed his hand. It was a light touch, tentative. But it was something. “I’ve trusted you for four years, Kadir. I’ll trust you awhile longer.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to the back of it without breaking eye contact. He didn’t miss the shiver that rippled through her, or the answering shudder deep inside him.
The next few days in Kyr would be interesting indeed.
CHAPTER EIGHT