Blushing straight down to her toes, Penelope slowly rose. The king was not as intimidating as she had originally thought. Up close and personal, she could see how he could be a potential friend under different circumstances. The hint of a smile toyed at the corner of his mouth. He’d come to Prima Donna’s on several previous occasions, but he’d sat amidst an entourage of royalty in the best balcony seats in the house. And so she’d never met him face-to-face before.
“Your Majesty is too kind. It would be my pleasure to dance a number for you any time.”
The king nodded in approval. His gaze swept the room and landed on Ryon who was charging through the crowd toward them with the speed and strength of a battering ram. “Have you met General Ryon Ward, Lady Farris?” the king asked.
Ryon entered the group wearing a comical expression. Even grimacing, he was quite handsome and looked rather dashing in his military uniform. She rarely saw him wearing it. The jacket showcased how broad his shoulders were and presented the strength in his arms and hands to masculine perfection. Gold-plated buttons made of the royal seal adorned crisp navy sleeves.
Not wanting to miss a chance to tease him, she said, “I don’t believe I have. General Ward, a pleasure,” she said, bowing low in greeting.
Ryon growled beneath his breath. “Stop bowing, Penelope, you’re being silly.”
“I was just telling His Majesty that I would dance for him any time.” She held his gaze. A crowd of curious eyes had gathered to watch the goings-on with the king. She had a feeling they’d write about this interaction in the gossip column of the newspaper. “Have you ever seen me dance, General? Or do you tend to leave before the performance is finished?”
The king stifled a laugh under the guise of a faux yawn.
Ryon looked away, perhaps trying for patience.
“Excuse me,” he said, then grabbed her elbow like he was her date. “We need to have a private conversation.”
The king nodded and didn’t bother hiding his smile now.
Oh! Penelope seethed, they were friends. Of course! That traitorous king had just handed her over to the beastly general like a hunk of cattle. Well, she’d have to face Ryon sooner over later tonight. She might as well get the fun started now.
Chapter 6
Ryon found an empty room somewhere away from the crowded ballroom and pulled them inside it. He was fuming, so angry he could throw his fist through the wall.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” He paced a tight circle before snatching Penelope’s wrist when she started to move away. “I don’t think so. You’re not going anywhere until we talk.”
“Talk, talk, talk. That’s all you want to do,” she said blithely. “You are being far too serious, Ryon.”
He froze in place like a statue.
She called him Ryon. She’d actually used his name.
She kept talking, having not realized his stunned countenance.
“Truly, there is no need for this macho behavior. You’re acting like a right mad Ava.”
Ava was a common slur for Avagarian and it meant something close to heathen. It was considered the lowliest of insults. However, hearing that deep insult coming from Penelope’s pretty mouth in that soft, feminine voice of hers didn’t bother him at all. He actually found his mouth twitching to keep from laughing.
“And in front of the king, no less. You’re acting as if you’ve already claimed me.” She was agitated and flushed, working into a tizzy with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Listen to me, because I have the gossip for you, General. You are not my husband, you have not claimed me, and you do not control me.”
“You don’t have to tell me what I already know,” he said.
She faltered, then carried on, “Who knows how many men will be at the Claiming for me—”
He laughed harshly. “You plan on having that many?”
It might be a low blow to some. Not to Penelope. “I have a duke willing to fight for me and hordes of fans. Truly, we have no idea how many will come, and don’t pretend that isn’t the truth. And to think you have the right to grab my arm and bully me. Just so you can talk to me is simply outrageous. Tell me, are you out of your mind?”
Ryon waited a breath to see if she had anything more to say. Her arched eyebrow and peeved glare stared back at him.
He looked at her flushed face and felt an equal warmth bloom in his ribcage. He wanted to kiss her—to make love to her ’till neither one of them could move a muscle. Tingles formed at the base of his spine as blood pumped to places he didn’t want.
“I am out of my mind.” He spoke between clenched teeth. “And it’s your fault.”