by Heidi Rice
But not tonight.
Tonight every time she opened her smart mouth, made a suggestive comment or attempted some subtle—and some not so subtle—mockery, instead of irritating Leo, she had amused him. And he had only become more attentive.
And attentive was bad, because it only encouraged the impulsiveness that had always been Juno’s downfall.
As soon as she’d descended the stairs into the anteroom and seen the ludicrously hot figure Leo cut in his formal clothes, his black hair almost blue, the tempting dimple in his chin making her want to lick it, the shot of adrenaline had become addictive.
And as the night had gone on, it had only got worse.
Because beneath his formal attire and curt mocking manners, Leo had discovered how to neutralise her super power.
No man had ever been aware of her every breath and blush and heartbeat with the same raptor-like focus. No man had ever spoken to her with such respect for her intellect while also relishing, even encouraging, her attempts to outrage and disarm him. No man had ever enjoyed her company the way he appeared to.
And as a result, the only person who had been disarmed was her.
And that had not been the plan at all.
Even as she knew her reaction to Leo was getting out of control, her body swayed in time with his as he swung her round in the steps of the dance. Her breath seized and she got a lungful of his rich exotic scent—starch, salt and subtle, sandalwood cologne.
Her pulse throbbed heavily in her sex—and everywhere his body touched hers—as the lights from the chandelier whirred above their heads.
At last the other guests began to join them on the ballroom floor. The lights dimmed, the dancers glided around in the golden glow of candlelight—their finery as dazzling as the ballroom’s ornate rococo design. But all Juno could focus on was the man she clung to.
As the waltz ended, Leo brought them to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room, then leant down.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he murmured, his breath sending a shiver down her neck. ‘So we can discuss our future plans.’
Not a good idea.
‘We... We can’t,’ she managed, disturbed by how much she wanted to say yes. ‘I’m the host. I’m supposed to stay till the end of the ball.’
I think!
His lips quirked in the super-sexy smile that had been driving her insane all evening. ‘Really? You’re going to play the protocol card after teasing me to death through two solid hours of too-rich food and that never-ending speech from your minister of state?’
‘Well... Yes,’ she said, stupidly flattered by the thought she’d had the power to tease him at all. ‘It will look bad.’
‘Jade, honey.’ He sighed, cradling her cheek. His calloused palm skimmed over her skin, as his thumb found the pulse hammering in her collarbone. She could feel the eyes of the assembled guests on them, hear the hushed whispers above the music at his forward behaviour. He was making a spectacle of them both, why did that only excite her more?
Was that Leo’s superpower—the ability to seduce any woman into compliance at fifty paces?
‘We have much to discuss,’ he added. ‘And everyone will think it’s romantic if I drag you away after one dance.’
‘But it’s not romantic,’ she murmured, mesmerised by the challenging light in his eyes as the hot sweet spot between her thighs burned.
‘True,’ he said, and her chest deflated. ‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t create an impressive show.’
As if to prove his point, he caught her fingers, lifted her hand, opened her closed fist and bit into the swell of flesh under her thumb.
Arrows of sensation darted down, turning the sweet spot into a molten bundle of unrequited yearning. She groaned and he laughed. She tugged her hand free, brutally aware of their audience, but even more brutally aware of the insistent ache between her thighs.
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she murmured, the challenge issued before she could stop it.
‘Watch me,’ he said, then clasped her hand and began to lead her through the crowd.
The music had stopped, the eyes of everyone upon them as the guests parted to let them through.
This was madness, but it was an intoxicating madness. The reckless child inside her, who had once sneaked into another ball to kiss him, wanted to see what he would do.
As he headed towards the back of the ballroom, she spotted doors leading onto a balcony that overlooked the gorge, closed now as the snow fell in scatters of white.
It was the same balcony where she had propositioned him all those years ago, at another ball. And been discarded far too easily.
‘Wait.’ She tugged him to a stop, a laugh trapped in her throat when he shot an impatient look over his shoulder.
‘We’ve waited long enough,’ he said. And she had the terrifying thought he knew who she was. That he recognised the rejected girl she’d been. But then he added, ‘I thought that waltz would never end.’
‘Could we go that way?’ she managed, pointing towards the secluded balcony. If he was going to kiss her, she wanted it to be there. Where he’d refused to kiss her all those years ago.
It was nuts, but somehow she felt she owed it to that reckless child. Apparently she still had something to prove to that love-struck girl.
He frowned, his gaze drifting over her ball gown. ‘Are you mad?’ he said. ‘You’ll freeze.’
‘Perhaps you can find a way to keep me warm,’ she said, a little stunned by her own boldness. Her pulse leapt as arousal flared in his eyes.
‘Excellent point,’ he said, but as his grip tightened and he changed direction towards the balcony doors her sister’s chief of staff—Major Something or Other—stepped into their path.
‘Your Majesties...’ The man introduced himself and bowed low, effectively blocking their escape route.
Juno scrambled to recall his name. Jade had told her who he was in the list of details they’d exchanged that afternoon, about their respective lives, but...
‘Garland? What is it?’ Leo said, his impatience obvious.
Garland. Hallelujah.
‘Perhaps you would both like to repair to King Andreas’s former study, so we can discuss...’ Garland leaned forward, lowering his voice so their crowd of inquisitive onlookers couldn’t overhear ‘...the latest trade agreement.’
Say, what now? Panic ricocheted through Juno. A trade agreement? Jade hadn’t mentioned anything about having to negotiate a trade agreement tonight?
‘Queen Jade and I wish to speak alone about our trade agreement,’ Leo said.
Relief rushed through Juno as she figured out what trade agreement they were discussing. Otherwise known as the political union with heirs attached. Leo’s large hand landed on Juno’s hip, his palm skimming over the satin, possessive and provocative. Sensation rioted over her skin.
‘But, Your Majesties...’ Garland began. ‘The advisors are ready to discuss—’
‘We can have this discussion without our advisors, Garland,’ Leo’s commanding voice interrupted.
Dismissed, Garland bowed and turned to leave.
‘Wait, Garland, take this with you and give it to my valet,’ Leo said.
He let go of Juno’s hip, and lifted the ceremonial sword and scabbard he had been wearing all evening over his head. Then handed it to the astonished advisor.
As Garland held the sword, Leo flipped open the buttons of his uniform jacket.
‘Leo? What are you doing?’ Juno murmured.
To her total astonishment, he winked at her as he took off the jacket, then draped the heavy brocade garment over her shoulders. The fabric was warm from his skin, the jacket large enough to reach her knees, enveloping her in the scent of soap and sandalwood and clean male. An older female guest nearby sighed, the hum of approval from the crowd matched by the strange glow suff
using Juno’s chest at the chivalrous gesture.
‘Let’s go.’ Leo grasped her hand and headed towards the balcony doors.
The colour rose in her cheeks as he led her through the adoring crowd. She felt like the head of the cheerleading squad, wearing the captain of the football team’s letter jacket after a winning game, times about a hundred. Except she’d never been a cheerleader in high school and never been on the captain of the football team’s radar.
It was a heady feeling, but also kind of shocking, not just to be singled out by Leo, but to know it could make her feel important, when she had always laughed at those girls in the past.
Leo grasped the crystal handle and pulled open the heavy glass door to the balcony, then executed a sweeping, mocking bow.
‘After you, Your Majesty,’ he said as the blast of cold air chilled Juno’s flushed cheeks. ‘Our private sanctuary awaits.’
Memories of that night eight years ago clogged Juno’s throat. She’d surprised him out here then, having snuck down from her room to catch a glimpse of her crush. She’d grown up since then, a lot, because she’d had to, hiding her mother’s addictions while dealing with all the responsibilities her mother had abandoned over the years. And lost any belief in fairy tales.
But as she stepped outside, the frozen air misting her vision, a part of that wild, troubled but still innocent child stepped into the night with her. And a lump got lodged in her chest making it hard for her to breathe.
Let it go. You’re not that besotted kid any more.
This wasn’t romantic, she told herself staunchly. Leo had an agenda—he wanted a political union, and probably to get into her pants.
But even as her natural cynic tried to control her breathing, the lump grew, threatening to block off her air supply, as Leo stepped onto the balcony behind her. His big body shielded hers as he rested his hands on her shoulders.
The door slammed shut behind them. And suddenly she was alone with him in the still night. Her pulse accelerated to warp speed.
He pressed his face into her hair, and inhaled.
‘Your new scent is killing me,’ he murmured. ‘It reminds me of summer. What made you change it? Because I definitely approve.’
‘I wanted to torture you...’ she said, pushing the words out past the ever-expanding lump—she’d started wearing this scent eight years ago to impress him with how grown up she was. It hadn’t had the desired effect then.
‘It worked.’ The rough chuckle against her nape was a salute to that desperate teenager. ‘Vanilla doesn’t suit you.’
She tensed, the moment of panic not helping with her breathing difficulties. Jade had told her during their long exchange of details to be careful of Leo, that he was an exceptionally observant man.
Juno had dismissed the warning. If Leo was so observant why hadn’t he been aware of her long campaign to get him to notice her that summer?
But Jade had been right. And whatever happened tonight, she couldn’t afford to have their ruse exposed.
But the danger of discovery only increased her excitement as Leo gripped her hand—his fingers warm, hers already chilling—and led her away from the prying eyes of the crowd inside the ballroom, to the far end of the snowy balcony.
Towering over her, his body heat warming her, he cupped her cheek, then ran his thumb over the line of her lips. ‘How did I not notice how exquisite you are until tonight?’ he murmured.
Her cheeks heated, panic and exhilaration combining in the pit of her belly, as his gaze lifted to her tiara and then glided down.
Was it her sister he saw now? Or her?
She shivered.
‘How are you not freezing?’ she managed, trying for mocking but getting breathless instead.
He barked out a laugh. ‘Great circulation,’ he said, but then he framed her face in both hands and tilted her head up to the torchlight. ‘And hours of anticipation.’
He lowered his mouth, his wide sensual lips hovering over hers—the tantalising promise hurtling her back in time.
‘Kiss me, Princess,’ he demanded.
Her mouth opened on a sob of longing and welcomed him in.
Leo threaded his fingers into the silky locks at the Queen’s nape and claimed her mouth. At last.
Her lips softened, her throaty moan a siren call to his already overwrought senses. He captured the sultry taste of wine and desire, as the kick of need throbbed in his groin.
The woman had bewitched him, all evening, and the only way to break the enchantment was to give them both what they needed.
Her fingertips settled on his waist, making the muscles of his abdomen tense and the burgeoning erection throb as the kiss became carnal in a heartbeat.
He grasped her hips to draw her closer. The satin glided under his hands like a whisper, but the feel of the firm, toned body beneath, the lush curves shivering under his touch, sent the twist of need into his gut.
His tongue tangled with hers, exploiting, demanding, so hungry for the taste of her he doubted he would ever be sated. He found her nipple with his thumb, rigid beneath the thin satin of her dress; she gasped but arched towards him in an instinctive cry for more.
He drew the bodice down, ducked his head to warm the taut pebble with his lips, her scent surrounding him now. He drew her breast into his mouth, felt her buck in his arms, as her nipple engorged. The frantic need echoed in his groin. Holding her in place, he found the apex of her thighs through the gown, pressed the heel of his hand where he knew she would need it the most. He heard the tortured sob. The sudden desire to pull up her gown and find the slick nub with his fingers was so sharp and shocking, he tore his mouth away from her breast. Lifted his hand to her hips.
This was more than temptation.
Too much more.
They were on a balcony, in the snow, damn it.
He dragged a staggered breath into his lungs. Her eyes were fixed on his, glazed with arousal, but also shadowed with shock as he drew the bodice of her gown back up to hide the reddened nipple.
What the hell had just happened?
He’d planned to seduce her, to charm her into agreeing to the marriage—or at least to debating it—but this sudden, visceral connection, this stark hunger didn’t seem charming or expedient.
This wasn’t a seduction. It was something more. Something he did not recognise. Something he wasn’t even sure he could control.
She shuddered and stepped back, out of his arms, the dazed look replaced by wariness.
‘That was a mistake...’ she said.
Gripping the coat, his coat, she wrapped it tighter around her body, the body he was suddenly far too eager to explore.
‘Why?’ he demanded, even though a part of him agreed with her.
The taste of her had been too real, too addictive.
The benefits of a political and financial union had been the last thing on his mind as he’d fed on her surrender.
The truth was, he was finding it hard even now not to drag her back into his arms and finish what they had started. Her flushed face, and the reddened skin on her chin from his kiss, the memory of her hard nipple engorging in a rush made the throbbing in his pants painful. But why be coy?
He wanted her and she wanted him. That didn’t have to be a bad thing. In truth it could be a very good thing.
Her gaze darted away as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip.
The pounding in his pants intensified.
Not good.
He grasped her chin. ‘Answer me, Jade,’ he said. ‘Surely discovering there is some chemistry between us—’ And wasn’t that the understatement of the century? ‘—will make a marriage between us even more beneficial.’
And hot and wild and...
Focus, Leo.
He curbed the insistent ache. And dropped his hand, to stop himself from devouring her al
l over again.
Her eyes flickered with something that looked like panic.
‘I’m tired. I should...’ She hesitated, and it occurred to him the kiss had shocked her too, as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ‘I need to go to bed. I’m exhausted.’
Really?
But the ball wasn’t over yet. It had barely begun. And they had not even discussed the marriage.
He forced himself not to voice his impatience though. Her flushed face and wide eyes made her seem younger than she had a moment ago. The sense of déjà vu niggled at the back of his mind—why did he feel as if he had been here before with her?—but he dismissed it.
‘As you wish, Jade,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, to control the desire to drag her back into his arms.
She was an innocent, he needed to remember that. What had just happened had shocked him as well.
‘Let’s continue this discussion tomorrow.’ Once we’ve both calmed down enough to have a conversation.
‘Yes, let’s... Thank you.’ Her visible relief made him smile.
She would be his, all he had to do was wait.
‘I’ll... I’ll see you tomorrow. When do you leave?’ she asked.
He frowned; didn’t she know the schedule? ‘Noon.’
‘Okay, good,’ she said, then rushed past him.
He watched her disappear around the side of the building—the sight of her in his jacket as appealing as everything else he had discovered about the woman he was now determined to make his bride.
Before tonight, all he’d seen were the political and economic benefits of their union. But tonight he had discovered that there would be considerable fringe benefits too.
The Queen was skittish, that much was obvious. But perhaps that was to be expected. Until tonight there had been no hint of any chemistry between them. Especially not a chemistry of this magnitude. The truth was the intense passion between them had blindsided him; he wanted to be able to control it, before they took this further.
But if it had blindsided him, what must it have done to her? After all, she had no experience of men.