by Chloe Cole
“We were honored to receive your invitation, Your Highness,” he said with a smile.
The interruption gave me a moment to find my voice at last. “I think our late arrival may have interrupted your party, though.” I glanced at the crowd behind them, all of whom hadn’t bothered to pretend they weren’t listening intently.
Sebastian threw his golden head back and laughed, harder than was merited, in my opinion. “You may be right, but how can you blame them? You are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
At this, the queen’s eyes narrowed, her plastic grin sliding from her face.
“Perhaps the best thing to do is carry on with our evening. Anaya, could I have this dance?” Gatlin held his hand out to her and I glared at him for a long moment before accepting it.
“Yes, all right, then.”
Without another word, Gatlin led me onto the floor as my inner lioness paced furiously.
“I can’t dance, remember?” I hissed under my breath, but he ignored me, pulling me close and wrapping one arm around my waist. “You were the one who reminded me just last night.”
His eyes glittered with barely banked fury as he met my gaze. “You can and you will.”
“Why are you mad at me?” I asked, waiting for the music to start again.
“I’m not. I’m…displeased with the queen’s behavior and, since you must hold your tongue, I thought it best to step in. Now, focus and follow my lead. Nobody can see your feet and I won’t mind if you step on me. I promise to make you look as graceful as a swan.”
I considered his words for a moment, but when the next song began, I nodded in consent. “Okay. You’re the teacher.” And just the fact that he’d tried to stand up for me and was angry on my behalf would take the sting out of my impending humiliation.
Somewhat.
As we began to move, gingerly at first, I replayed my own words in my mind.
He was my teacher. Not my friend, and not my lover. The way the king watched me now was a testament to Gatlin’s success as my tutor, and we’d only just begun. This was exactly the type of response, the kind of adoration, I was meant to arouse.
My eyes were focused on the floor and I bit my lip hard, thinking over every movement as we swept across the floor.
“Look at me.” The words were throaty and low and, when my gaze met his, another thrill shot through me.
“Don’t think about what you’re doing. Just do it. Move with me.” He guided me in a little circle and I followed his command, but then I was looking down again.
“Anaya, look at me. Don’t stop. The eyes are where the intimacy comes in. Moving means nothing without it. Understand?”
But it was no use. I blinked up at him again and our gazes collided. Without warning, thoughts of the way his lips had burned against mine filled my head. The way his tongue had twisted and teased me…
An ache of need rose in my loins as, without warning, he lifted me almost effortlessly onto his feet.
“Now just hold on tight,” he murmured. From there, it was a whirlwind as he glided me across the floor, the hem of my dress hiding the fact that I was a mere passenger on the world’s most dizzying, electrifying ride. And as the song came to an end, he twisted me and bent me back over his arm in a sweeping dip that left me breathless.
We stayed like that for a long moment until I could feel the eyes on us once again.
“The song is over,” I whispered.
Gatlin’s gaze flickered and I realized he’d been as lost as I had. As he straightened, lifting me with him, I could feel the outline of his need pressing hard against my belly, even through my corset. I very nearly pressed back, helpless to stop the urge, when a voice boomed behind us.
“Impressive headway already! I hope you’ve saved the next dance for me,” the king said, reaching his arm past Gatlin toward me.
Panic threatened as I realized our little ruse was about to be discovered, but not a moment too soon, the watchful queen reappeared at her husband’s side.
“I’m afraid dancing is done for now. Dinner will be served momentarily.”
The king eyed his wife, then turned a grin on me, revealing his slightly protruding fangs. “We shall meet again soon, then.”
I nearly slumped with relief as the rest of the Saint John men came to gather round me and lead me to the dining hall.
Dinner was a sumptuous feast that I barely touched, but to my relief, there were so many people present, I seemed to go from the center of attention to an afterthought very quickly.
By the time dessert arrived, I was practically swaying in my chair from my too-tight corset and the stress of waiting for what was to come next. I was both thrilled and shocked when Connor stopped by my chair and tapped me gently on the arm.
“The king has decreed there will be a game of snooker for the men and the ladies are dismissed for the evening. Come, I’ll take you home.”
As I turned to look, I noticed the queen’s gaze pinned on me, but she quickly turned away.
I had no doubt whose idea my early departure was. Little did she know, I could’ve kissed her on the mouth for it.
I eagerly took Connor’s hand and let him lead me from the room.
Our carriage ride home was quiet as I tried to process all that had happened. As we stepped out and made our way into the palace, Connor shot me an assessing glance.
“Looks like you were correct, after all. The queen doesn’t seem to like you much.”
I shrugged and stepped inside, pausing as he closed the door behind us. “I imagine most women wouldn’t in her place.”
“Strange, though, I swear this is a first. I’ve never seen her like this before,” Connor said, scratching at his jaw before shaking his head. “Odd, even after all my practice, women are still a mystery sometimes.”
He flashed his cheeky dimple and took a step toward me. “You should try to get some rest. Tomorrow starts your lessons in earnest, love.”
The air between us crackled and for a second, I wondered if he might kiss me. Instead, though, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the swell of one breast before pulling away.
“Been wanting to do that all night. I’ll send a maid up to help you with your dress.” With a wink and another grin, he jogged lightly up the stairs, leaving me staring behind him, heart in my throat.
Chapter 6
Another morning dawned, and this one felt much the same as the other. Full of promise and a little terrifying but also as if I’d evaded a battle of sorts.
I’d met the king and the queen and, while it hadn’t been perfect, I’d survived.
I dressed quickly and made my way down the stairs, eager to start my lessons and even more so when I caught a whiff of the scent of frying bacon.
When I stepped into the dining room, though, it was empty. I cocked my head and listened, hearing the sound of banter in the distance. I followed the noise to the kitchen and pushed open the door to find all of the Saint John men gathered around a clucking Cook, whose round face was alight with joy. As I watched her interact with her employers, it was clear she was more than just a servant to them.
A resounding crack echoed through the room as she rapped Connor's hand sharply with her own.
"Eat another piece of that bacon and it'll be the wooden spoon next!" she said, her eyes twinkling merrily.
He threw his head back and laughed, reaching around her to pluck a biscuit from an overflowing basket behind her. "Have it your way, Cookie," he said with a grin before stuffing half of it into his mouth. Connor was as easy on the soul as he was on the eyes and it wasn't hard to see why she only laughed and gazed at him adoringly.
I glanced around the room at the others and found a pair of golden eyes staring back at me. Ah, the beautiful Michael. I realized only then that, while I’d spent hours in his company, I had never spoken to him.
"Good morning," I said, working up a smile.
"If you're waiting for him to talk, you'll be waiting awhile," Connor said, gesturing for me to join the
m. “We should’ve told you before but, frankly, it slips my mind. Michael has been deaf since he was a cub. He'll read lips and sign, but he doesn't say much."
I could feel all eyes on me as I made my way over to him and held up my hand. "How do you say ‘good morning’?" I asked, making sure to enunciate clearly as I wiggled my fingers.
Michael regarded me silently for a moment and then took my hand in his, guiding it into a short series of motions. When he released me, I repeated them and then cocked my head.
"Is that right?"
He nodded and gestured behind him to the countertop fairly groaning with food.
"Have you all already eaten?" I asked, my gaze colliding with Gatlin as I glanced around the room. His face gave away nothing but I couldn't help but wonder if he thought of me even half as much as I did of him.
"They're always eating," Cook said with a hearty laugh as she swatted at Connor again before scooping up the biscuit basket and holding it out to me. "Here you go, Miss. Unless you'd like a proper sit-down in the dining room?"
If everyone else was game, I certainly wasn't about to argue. My appetite had returned with a vengeance and I took the profered biscuit and pointed a finger to the cast iron pan of fat sausages.
"Will it cost me a hand if I take one or am I all right since I was invited?" I asked quizzically.
Michael's mouth tipped into a half-smile as Cook forked up a pair of the sausages and motioned for me to break the top away from my biscuit so she could pile them on. I made short work of the sandwich and was contemplating another when Michael stepped forward and jerked his head, gesturing at me to join him.
"Where are we going?" I asked, watching as he grabbed a large plate of scrap meat and bones and made for the door.
"He's going to feed the hounds. There are new puppies," Lucian said, folding his arms over his muscled chest.
"Puppies!" I wiped the crumbs from my hands on my skirt and rushed toward the door, hunger forgotten. "Yes, please."
The walk out to the pen was a short one, and the day was mild. I found myself whistling as we walked, enjoying the ease of the companionable silence between us.
He led the way to a door that he unbarred with one hand while he balanced the plate on the other. Before he let the door swing open though, he motioned for me to step back and rose his brows pointedly.
"They'll jump?" I asked.
He tipped his head in the affirmative and I stepped back, bracing myself.
The attack was fierce and swift as what seemed like a dozen balls of apricot fur came launching at us all at once.
I let out a squeal of joy as the puppies howled in delight, nipping playfully at my ankles.
"Oh my gosh, they're so sweet," I murmured, squatting low to rub their round little bellies.
Michael dropped the metal plate on the ground, a warning in his eyes as he lunged toward me, but it was too late as two massive hounds came loping out of the pen, baying with excitement and launching their eighty-pound bodies at me.
I landed in the dirt with a thump, blocking my face from slobbering tongues as I shook with belly-laughter.
What a fool I'd been.
A sharp whistle cut the attack short as the hounds lumbered away, leaving me flat on my bottom in the dirt as they awaited further instructions from their master.
He picked up the discarded plate and carried it into the pen, laying it on the ground for them all to enjoy, before turning to face me.
He quickly motioned with his hands--what I could only assume by his expression was an apology, as he reached out and helped me to my feet.
"No, no. It's I who am sorry. Of course, you weren't warning me about the pups jumping on me. They're the size of mice, yet. I just got so excited that I didn’t even think of the fact that there might be..."
I trailed off as I realized he wasn't reading my lips at all. His gaze was locked lower, on my chest, and his golden eyes swirled with something I could only describe as hunger.
My pulse quickened as I followed his gaze, realizing with a start that my bodice had torn and my entire left breast was exposed.
The air crackled between us and my nipples went tight under the heat of his stare.
It was an instant, maybe less, before he stripped off his waistcoat and draped it over my shoulders, pulling it tight around me, but it was long enough.
Was it something in the water? Had I maybe mistakenly cast some sort of spell? Because, unless I'd bumped my head and lost my mind, every one of the Saint John brothers seemed to be attracted to me. Instantly drawn as if by some invisible thread or magic. An attraction that I didn't need experience to sense. The air fairly pulsed with it.
Far more terrifying than that, though?
I felt the exact same way.
Lord help me.
Chapter 7
When I returned to the house, I ran straight upstairs and took a long and wonderful bath and then dressed quickly in a simple day frock, trying to will the expression on Michael’s face from my mind.
By the time I got back downstairs an hour later, Lucian was in the great room, standing by the fire, and looked up when I walked in.
Where Gatlin was large and dark, when I looked at Lucian I found myself wondering if he couldn't eclipse the sun. He was massive, eyes as dark as sin, hair black as night. Like the vampires of lore I'd read about in one of the novels my mother had secreted away in her closet.
His gaze trailed over me and his jaw seemed to clench.
"There you are," he muttered. "I'm to tell you that my brothers and I are going on a hunt and you have some assigned reading to do. Then, the rest of the evening is your own." He paused and his brows caved into a dark frown. "You can read, can't you?"
I nodded and released the bottom lip I didn't realize I'd been chewing on. "Yes, very well, thank you."
He pushed away from the fireplace and strode past me as I watched him go in confusion.
We'd spoken only a few times, but for some reason, he seemed perpetually irritated with me and this evening was no different. My relationship with Gatlin had already improved now that I'd lost my initial fear of him. Maybe the best thing to do with Lucian was to get it out in the open.
"Are you coming or what?" he called back over his shoulder.
All right, so apparently I was supposed to follow him. I resisted the urge to tell him that I could read, but that didn't mean I could read minds, recalling how I'd given in to childish urges with Gatlin and lived to regret each and every one of them.
I rushed to catch up with Lucian's easy gait, already wondering where we were headed. I'd been on a tour of the house but knew there were literally dozens of rooms that I hadn't seen. The thought that there might be a tiny reading nook tucked away that housed a few books put a pep in my step.
We navigated some twists and turns until Lucian finally stopped before a set of double doors. He threw them open and waved me in ahead of him.
"Go on."
I stepped forward, unable to stop the whispered curse word that burst from my lips.
Lucian made a sound behind me that could've been mistaken for a laugh had it come from anyone else, but I was too distracted to take much notice. I was standing in the entrance of a library. A real life, bonafide, magnificent library. The room was round and, in the center sat a large desk and several leather chairs all congregated around a crackling fire. The rest of the cavernous space that spanned five times the size of my bedroom?
Books. Hundreds...no, thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands. The walls were covered from knee height to ceiling in shelves and each was bursting with leather-bound tomes.
"How?" I asked, my body trembling and my eyes prickling with emotion.
It was silly to be sure. I was in a house full of strange men, my fate as uncertain as ever, and this would be the thing that would move me to tears, but there it was.
I turned to Lucian, whose sharp eyes seemed to look almost through me.
"Where did you get all these?"
&
nbsp; During the time of the Great Sick, one of the things aside from the virulent nature of the illness that broke down our natural, amazingly strong immune system had been our physicians' inability to figure out how the illness was traveling. There was no rhyme or reason to it. One house would be stricken and the female cubs would be wiped out, but the males would be spared. One town would be overrun with the afflicted and, despite trading and merchants moving freely between them, there had been no cross-contamination to a neighboring town. And, while some adults had gotten ill, it was largely very young females that ultimately succumbed to it.
In a last ditch effort to contain the disease, our kind had burned everything that couldn't be cleaned sufficiently. Porous items like furniture, art, clothes, stuffed bears and children's dolls, potato sacks, even houses made of lighter woods had been torched.
But worst of all, the books. Tens of millions of them, all tossed into the flames.
I had only heard of it as a child, it had happened before I was born, but every time I'd thought of it, even then, it left me feeling bereft and cheated. Every bit of our history, our art, our culture, lost forever.
Once the imminent danger passed, scholars tried to recreate them and a few that had been secreted away had been spared. It was never the same, though. In the past decade or two, younger generations had begun exploring the arts again and the writing of new books was on the rise. Most families had at least a handful now, and some, like mine, who valued the written word, had as many as a dozen.
This, though? This was unheard of.
Lucian's eyes softened just a hint as he glanced over my head at the bounty before him. "It's pretty spectacular, I agree." He scratched at his unshaven chin and shrugged. "Not my doing, though. Michael is the one who insisted on being paid his portion of wages in books and the king doesn't value them much. I think we now boast more than the castle, even."
It boggled the mind and the fact that I'd been here, so close to this treasure for days without knowing about it, made my stomach cramp with grief. No matter how long I stayed, I'd never get through them all but those lost two days would haunt me.