Her voice shook. “Haven’t you ever needed something from someone, but couldn’t tell them why?”
He squeezed her hands tight remembering too many times when he’d needed exactly that—and gotten nothing. No one deserved that. Not even false princesses who could get him killed. “Shit.”
He got up, crossed to the doors, and double checked the bolts. Then he went into every room in the suite, checking closets and locking doors and windows.
“I’m crazy to be doing this, but you already hold my secret in your mind.” He called his magic and sealed the room.
She sat on the couch and watched his every move. Her pupils were wide and dark, and her chest heaved as if she’d run a marathon. A feeling of being on the cusp of no return shivered over him. This was wrong. It was right. It jeopardized everything: this mission, Siobhan’s rescue, his life.
But he was so close to done. And there was something about her deep green gaze that had him taking the risk.
His aura swirled and he dropped the glamour.
Chapter Eight
Cassie stood up. She stared at the real Bosco, at the face that had been playing hide and seek with her all evening. On the surface he looked the same, with shockingly white hair punked up in a rebel’s short cut. But his face had leaned out and sharpened. He’d shot up at five inches, and slimmed down, Tuathan slim. But he wasn’t a Tuathan, not with that pearly moon-white skin and black eyes that blazed a challenge at her. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Bosco.” His head tilted to the side. “I didn’t lie to you. It’s the name I go by in the Black Court. Do you know of me?”
“No.” Panic surged. “Should I?”
“No. We’ve never met before tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
He cocked his head at an arrogant angle. “I would remember someone as unique as you. Now, where were we?” He moved toward her, the heat of his gaze boring through the thin gauze of her dress.
Anticipation rippled along her skin. She wanted him to touch her, wanted that oh-so-clever mouth to be on hers. Wanted to see if he could bring back her memories, but suddenly she was awkward and unsure. This man—this sharp-eyed, edged-with-intent man— he was someone with whom she should be very, very careful.
He touched her shoulder, slid his hand slowly down her bare arm, and cupped her elbow. When she didn’t move away, he wrapped his fingers tighter into the careful grip of a man holding something rare and precious, something that he wasn’t going to let go.
Her heartbeat fluttered in her throat and the thrill of taking a risk surged through her. Even though he gave her the control, even though his hand was gentle, even though she was sure she could tug free and run to the door and scream for the guard, she knew she was trapped. And she wanted to be trapped.
She craved the danger. The risk. The change from being cooped up and never allowed the chance to be anything other than the Princess Cassandra. She knew she could be so much more. Knew, deep down inside, she was so much more. And he held the key.
“What do you need, Princess?”
“Cassie.”
“What do you need...Cassie?” Her name rolled out of his mouth low and sure.
He was close enough now that she had to tilt her head to look at him. “Kiss me,” she said. He pulled her to her feet, drawing her in and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned up, hungry for the potential of his kiss.
He stopped short, so close his breath caressed her lips. “Is this what you want? No bargains, just sex, pure and simple.” He regarded her with his unusual eyes, so dark she almost couldn’t make out the crystalline fractures in his irises.
He was danger and adventure all wrapped up and gifted to her for dinner, and her blood sang. She’d been so isolated, surrounded by the hordes of spellbound party-goers for months. Now here was someone who might be able to help her remember. Someone who she desired. Someone who earlier, had looked like her death.
Part of her longed for that, longed for a release from this interminable life of parties at night and working her Gift to a sliver during the day trying to get her magic back. She didn’t have memories enough of her life before to know if she was used to something different, but she thought she had been. She thought she remembered feeling...loved.
No one here really saw who she really was, but when this man touched her, she thought he just might. His touch was magic, magic that took away her headache and left her lush and wanton.
She reached up and tangled her hands around his neck, pulling him down to her. “Yes,” she breathed. And then, she kissed him.
The taste of him rocketed through her. His lips were exactly what they were supposed to be—hard and soft. Lean and sensual. Emotions she hadn’t felt in too long rushed along her skin. Lust, heat, passion. All for this stranger. But no memories. She pushed in closer, opened her mouth, and deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet flavor of honey.
His hands slipped down, cupping her ass. He picked her up and carried her to the sofa, turning and sitting down. For a moment she was separated from him and she heard her own sound of frustration. Then he rucked up her long dress and she straddled him, settling where she needed to be—her center cradling his erection.
And still she kissed him, hungry for more. More of his taste, more of him. Demanding more of this thing that grew hot and wanting between them. She forgot about her memories, forgot about why she was doing this. Forgot even that he was a complete stranger. She only knew that she hungered for this man, hungered for every drop of who he was. And she stole it all from his lips.
The knock at the door startled her. “Cassandra, open this door at once.”
Cassie didn’t even have time for her heartbeat to decide if it should slow, stop, or stutter.
Bosco stood up dropping her to the floor. “Shit.”
She landed hard on her ass. His face rippled, his glamour reasserting itself faster than she’d ever seen anyone glamour before. She’d barely time to register the reappearance of the suave courtier before he’d yanked her to her feet and pushed her at the door.
“It’s Lord Haddon,” he hissed.
“I know,” she hissed back, adjusting her skirt and darting to the mirror to check her face. The pale depressed woman she’d come to know was gone. Instead, her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes...her eyes were hungry.
“The door is locked, Cassandra.” The doorknob rattled. “Come at once and open it.”
“Coming, my lord,” she called loudly. She looked frantically around and dropped her voice. “He’ll be furious. You have to hide.”
“Where? It’s a tower apartment.”
She had no fire escape. The balcony was too high up for him to jump. And there was no trellis. Suddenly she realized that she was just as trapped here as he was.
“Shit.” Bosco gathered his magic. “My seal is still on the door. Stall him, or when he comes in we’ll have a problem.”
“Cassandra!”
“I’m coming,” she called through the door. As slowly as she could she fumbled with the lock, peeking over her shoulder and watching Bosco pull his wards from the room. The wards were down, but Bosco was still in the middle of the room. She flipped the lock and eased the door open a crack. Behind the solid wood of the door she waved Bosco in the direction of the bedroom. He ran, slipping through the door just as Haddon, the queen’s advisor and the man who ran her entire life, pushed his way into her suite.
“I know he’s here. Everyone saw you leave.” He sniffed and arched a thin, dark green brow. “Everyone but me.”
She was short for a Tuathan, barely five-foot-seven, yet another item on her list of failings as a royal. She had to crane her neck as he loomed over her.
“Why is that, Cassandra?”
“M-m-my lord?”
He rounded on her and she shrank back. “Why are you hiding your lover from me?”
She stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. She was the princess here, not him. “I wasn’t aware I nee
ded your permission to take a lover, Lord Haddon.”
He’d been by turns gracious, kind, and brutal since she had taken up residence in the castle. He insisted on results, and anything that got in his way infuriated him. She watched, fascinated, as he gathered his rage and smoothed it out. He bent down closer to her, the smell of garlic from the snails as dinner heavy on his breath. He lowered his voice to a threatening whisper. “Don’t think you can take that tone with me, Your Highness. You may not think I outrank you, but I am the queen’s right hand and I wield all of her power.”
Something in her quailed at the look in his eyes, but she kept her chin high. His hand rose, the long green fingers spidering out over her head. And deep in the reaches of her hidden memory—someone screamed.
Bosco stayed quiet and searched the bedroom for another exit. It was a large room with it’s own separate sitting area, but nowhere to hide, except under the wide king-size bed. He peeked into the adjoining dressing room, but unless he thought Haddon wouldn’t look behind the rows of dresses or inside trunks, he was screwed.
Back in the bedroom, the windows were narrow, but he might fit. He looked out and swallowed hard at the steep drop. This had to be one of the tallest towers on the castle. The stone walls had some toe-holds, and he was pretty good at climbing. Not for the first time, he wished for a Gift like shifting or something that would give him super grip. Glamour was useful, but fairly passive in terms of physicality. Given the number of times he’d needed to use this kind of emergency exit strategy maybe he should have used his power boluses to change his Gift, instead of enhance what he’d already had.
Cassie’s muffled gasp from the other room snagged his attention. He eased over to the door and peered through the crack.
The tall green form of the queen’s advisor loomed over Cassie, casting a long shadow over her. Haddon’s hand rose, heading up high, and by the look on his face it was going to come down hard. Her face drained of color, but Cassie had her chin up and back straight facing the oncoming blow.
It took seconds for Bosco to run through the options. It seemed to take an hour.
If he stepped out of the bedroom he’d be risking everything. His mission, his contacts, his life. He hadn’t become a spy to be the hero. He’d done it because there’d been no place for him. No station in life, no place at the Winter Court, and no way to go back to the home of his childhood. He’d done it because he’d learned no one would look out for him, besides himself. Stepping out of that door and pretending he was something he was not would not benefit him in any way, shape, or form.
Still, he hesitated. Haddon’s hand hit the top of its arc and began its descent.
“Fuck it.” He pasted on a silly drunk grin and pulled the door wide. “Princess, thank you for letting me use your facilities.” He dipped low in a sloppy bow. The green man jerked his arm out of its downward trajectory, his expression turning from anticipation to shock.
Cassie’s breath hitched. Suddenly he was glad he’d come back, even if it put everything else in jeopardy.
He pretended befuddlement and stumbled towards Haddon. “Oh, and who’s joining the party now?” He winked and reached out a hand toward the advisor. “Another lover to share your couch?”
“Bosco.” Haddon stepped back and eyed Bosco’s hand wavering in the air just beyond his waistcoat. “I didn’t know you were in attendance.”
“At your service...m’lord.” He bowed and added a hiccup for good effect.
Haddon backed up and pulled out a crisp, white handkerchief. He waved it in front of his nose, the scent of lilies wafted through the air. “The princess needs her beauty rest. You should go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m crashing here tonight.” He gave a suggestive nod and elbowed Haddon for good measure.
Haddon’s eyes bulged. “Here?”
Bosco kept his expression soft. He wondered if Haddon intended working his way into Cassie’s bed by the threats and intimidation he was famous for, or if there was something else going on. Given the fact that Cassie wasn’t a real princess, and Haddon was in charge, anything was possible.
Cassie finally recovered. “Yes, my lord. He’ll be sleeping here.” She pointed to the long couch that took up center space in the reception room. He had to admit it, she was good. Many fae had trouble facing up to the queen’s man but she jumped right in and followed his lead. “Bosco has nowhere to sleep. All the other beds are full and I have room here.”
Haddon’s thin lips pursed closed. He eyeballed the distance between the couch and the bedroom. “It simply cannot be done. The princess can’t possibly let you sleep here. We’ll kick the servants out of their beds. They should be cleaning up all night anyway, not sleeping.” He gave Bosco an imperious wave and headed for the door. “Come along. I have some questions for you.”
Bosco knew the green man. He’d seen his tactics before. Haddon would have him out of here and down for interrogation before the blush was back in Cassie’s pale cheeks. His glamour would hold up under torture, he’d certainly had enough practice, but he wasn’t sure anything else would.
“But my lord, the princess has pledged a bed to me. If she doesn’t let me sleep here, she’ll break her vow.”
“Vow?” Haddon whipped his glance to Cassie. “You made a vow? A magical vow?”
Bosco had to give her credit; she knew she had little magic, knew she was no match for the queen’s man yet she only flinched a little before jumping in.
“Yes, my lord. I’ll be forsworn. Even the small Gift I have left will be gone if I don’t provide him with a place to sleep.”
“Damn it, Cassandra, you have obligations.” The man’s green skin flushed purple and his voice raised high and tight. “You have no right, no right at all, to risk your Gift when there is so much at stake.” He moved in close, long fingers fisted closed at his sides.
Cassie backed into a chair, tangling her feet in its rails and tripping. She righted herself. “I’m sorry, my lord, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly.” Haddon grabbed her arms and stared into her eyes.
The urge to interfere, to jump between them and strangle the man flashed through Bosco’s nervous system, but he held himself back. A small surge of magic prickled over his skin, so small he wasn’t even sure it was there. Opening his inner sight he caught Haddon running a quick finger of power over Cassie. Then the power turned its seeking touch to Bosco and skimmed his disguise. It’s nearly undetectable touch probed his aura, checking to see what he looked like inside and out, checked to see if the castle spell was there. Cassie had seen beneath his disguise, but it had been his mistake to let her in. He wasn’t doing that with Lord Haddon. It happened fast and the magic was skilled. If he hadn’t been super-aware he wouldn’t have even known it had happened. But thank Danu all the power his lady employer and others had fed him over the years bolstered his natural Gift. His glamour held. Inside and out.
The green man let Cassie go, smoothing the frown from his face and the tension from his fists. “He’s only a fool and a drunk one at that. I’ll let him stay.” He moved over to the door, stopping to turn and stare into Cassie’s eyes. “But you need to be more careful, princess. We can’t have you risking yourself. The queen would be heartbroken if you lost your Gift.”
Cassandra blanched.
A heartbroken queen was nothing anyone wanted to see. Bosco wondered how far this thing went. Did Cassie even know she wasn’t a princess? Did the queen?
The door closed behind Haddon and Cassie sank onto the couch. “Thank you.”
What kind of man had he become that he’d almost left her here to deal with that asshole? His sister, Siobhan, would be ashamed. She hadn’t sacrificed herself for him to become exactly the kind of selfish man who existed in the courts. And yet, here he was.
“Don’t thank me.” He crossed to the table and filled both their glasses. He took a huge swallow, wishing it was whiskey instead of merely wine.
“You’re shaking.” He s
at beside her and set their glasses down. Pulling her into his arms he buried his face in her curls and took a deep breath. The fresh scent of her hair eased his tension.
She turned into him, like someone lost finding home. “Stay with me,” she whispered.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he whispered into her hair. And yet, he didn’t let her go. He’d comforted many women. Used women, and been used by them in return. Made his way from bedroom to bedroom, sometimes just to have a place to lay his head. But something about her fragile strength when she’d stood up to Haddon moved him. And something in the way she asked to stay had him re-thinking his plans to use her.
“I’m sure. I’ll be sure enough for both of us.” She leaned up, gently kissing his lips, as if he was the one who needed wooing. As if he was the one she should be careful with. And at the very carefulness of her touch, his good intentions broke.
He kissed her back, opening her mouth and delving deep. She tasted of fine, red wine and the luscious heaviness of ripe peaches. And something else it took him time to identify. Innocence.
It had been so long since he’d recognized it in someone that he nearly stopped. But when he meant to pull away she held on to him, and he gave in. “You’re still shaking,” he murmured against her mouth. He trailed kisses along her fine cheekbone and along the edge of her ear, tracing the point with his tongue.
She shuddered. “I am?”
“Mmm, yes.” He nibbled down to her collarbone and along the tops of her breasts, chasing the light scattering of freckles that disappeared into the dip of her gown.
“Take it off,” she whispered. “Take off the glamour. I want to see the real you. I want to touch the real you.”
He walked to the door and barred it. Taking a quick magical check of the hallway he only sensed the sleepy auras of two guards at either end of the hall. Haddon was gone. It was just the two of them in the room.
He dropped the glamour. Tension eased out of her and she relaxed into his embrace.
He had a quick flash of worry at the instant way he felt connected to her, as if by dropping the glamour he’d let her inside a wall, then he brushed it aside. He had other things to occupy his mind. Her scent and taste and touch flooded him, and he grew hard.
Enchanted: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 3) Page 7