by Nyna Queen
Copying the other women, Alex slid one leg up his thigh, twisting it around his waist, and arched her back.
Holding her tightly to him with one hand, Darken slowly ran his other hand down from her chin, along her neck, chest, and hip, his hot fingers leaving a trail of pleasant shivers tingling down her body. In Alex’s mind, he ripped open her dress, freeing her breasts and dipped his head, his lips tracing another burning trail along her skin. She almost moaned.
Darken’s hand slipped down her leg, cupped her knee and gave it a sharp push. Using the momentum, Alex twirled away from him, her hands raised above her head, then stopped and leaned toward him, crooking one finger in a taunting challenge, daring him to chase her—not sure if this was still part of the dance or if their little chase had subtly shifted into reality.
The music picked up and Darken stalked her across the dance floor, a gliding panther stalking his reluctant prey. When he reached for her, she put a hand on his chest, holding him off. His nostrils flared. They circled again, their eyes burning into each other. It was just the two of them and the wild, fervent rhythm of the music. For all Alex cared, they could have been the only two people left in the ballroom.
Darken suddenly grabbed her and they flew across the room, their step becoming faster and faster, as the music culminated toward its grand finale.
The song reached its climax and Darken brought them to a stop. He twirled Alex once, pushed her away, then caught her at the last moment and yanked her back to him. She ended up with both hands pressed against his chest.
The music stopped.
Alex’s breath pounded in her ears. Their faces were so close, their lips were almost touching. She was vaguely aware of the applause surging through the ballroom.
They stared at each other, their hearts beating to the same rhythm in their chests.
A moment too late, they stepped away from each other.
Darken bowed. Alex made a small curtsy on unsteady legs. Her entire body was keyed up and shaking.
Darken put a light hand on her lower back and steered her off the dance floor. Alex was keenly aware of his hot skin through the sleek fabric of her dress. A tongue of heat licked the inner side of her thighs and she clenched her hands into tight fists. Sweet Jester, she was so aroused she could barely walk. She wanted to feel his skin on hers with nothing between them. She wanted his touch, real and firm, all over her body. She wanted to feel his weight upon her. Wanted him inside her. And she wanted it now!
They needed a place. An empty bathroom. A broom closet. She didn’t care how many bad clichés they fulfilled, as long as she could have him.
The pressure of Darken’s hand increased a little as he leaned over to her. “Now go back to the other women and wait.”
Wait? Alex blinked. Wait for what?
But Darken had already let go of her and vanished into the crowd. What the fuck? Alex craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of him, but in the thick of the people around her, she may as well have been looking for a specific coin in a penny bank.
Damn him! Not even a ghost could move that fast!
Left with no other option, Alex did as Darken had suggested and made her way back over to the group of girls she’d spent most of the afternoon with.
Wait, my ass! Bastard could at least have told her what for!
Bonny was staring at her with huge eyes when she approached—and she wasn’t the only one. The girls’ expressions showed everything from shock and disgust to adoration and envy. Alex acted as if she didn’t notice.
“Alexandre!” Bonny gushed the moment Alex reached their table. “I had no idea you were such a proficient dancer!”
“His lordship is an excellent leader,” Alex said modestly, wishing he was here so she could strangle him. “I didn’t have much chance to mess up.” In fact, she doubted even a tone-deaf person with two left feet could have messed up that dance with Darken as their partner.
“Well, I could certainly see that!” Bonny fanned herself as if she’d been the one on the dance floor. “That was quite the show!”
For the next few songs, no one approached Alex—either because they considered her somehow tainted by the forfeit’s touch, or because they were afraid that after her performance with Darken they would inevitably come out looking like club-footed imbeciles. Whatever the reason, Alex was grateful for the reprieve. Occasionally, she would scan the room, but for some reason, Darken was playing least in sight.
Someone tapped her shoulder. Surprised, Alex swiveled on the spot. One of the servants in cream and jade livery bowed before her and held out a silver platter, on top of which rested a sealed white envelope.
“A message for you, lady.”
“For me?” Alex frowned and glanced around but nobody within sight gave any indication that they might be the mysterious sender.
Slightly hesitant, Alex contemplated the envelope, remembering very well the last time she’d received a message by letter and what had happened because of it—the kids almost being abducted outside the Pacified Zone and she ending up under Scarface’s little torture stick. On the other hand, this was the Royal Palace. If this letter contained any kind of physical or magical dangers, it would have raised the alarms.
Alex picked up the envelope.
The servant retreated with another bow.
The wax seal was silver and had been stamped with a two-headed eagle in front of an ivy leaf. As Alex began to break it, there was a small magic discharge, stinging her fingertips. She froze and held her breath, almost expecting to be blown to bits.
No explosion came. Instead, the silver wax melted and rolled down the paper like a blob of mercury. Alex caught it by reflex when it dropped off the edge. She raised her palm and found herself looking at a thumbnail-sized, tear-shaped crystal. Now, look at that. It probably wasn’t a diamond but it looked pretty damn close. What a pretty, pretty spell.
Finally intrigued, Alex opened the envelope and extracted a small card. It was made of thick paper with a satin finish and read in elegant calligraphy:
“But he who dares not touch the thorns, shall never hold the rose.”
Huh! Well, someone clearly thought he could dazzle an innocent country flower with corny poetry. Alex turned the card over and found another little note scribbled on the back:
“South balcony. Sixth floor. 7:30 p.m.”
Didn’t even bother to sign it, did he?
Alex checked the huge golden clock above the entrance. Quarter past seven.
“What’s that?” Bonny asked, curiously leaning over. Alex shrugged and held up the card, aware that others were also listening with pricked ears. “Someone asked me to meet them on one of the upper balconies. It’s not signed.”
“Ohhh, how exciting! A secret admirer perhaps?” Bonny reached over and plucked the card from Alex’s fingers. “South balcony on the sixth floor. That’s almost at the top of the building.” She clapped her hands in excitement. “It’s nearly half past. Aren’t you going?”
“Uhm, I’m not sure—”
“Oh, come on, Lexy!” Bonny glared at her. “You must be curious!”
Oh, she was curious alright. But since she had a good idea who had sent the card, Alex wasn’t quite so convinced that Bonny’s secret-admirer theory had any merit.
To the contrary. Had he noticed something? Perhaps even done a background check on her? Or, worse, had her brother blabbed? Was she already exposed and they wanted to corner her, away from the eyes of the crowd?
Cold worry pooled in the pit of Alex’s stomach replacing the heat that had burned there just moments ago.
“Go, Lexy.” Bonny handed the card back to her and gave Alex a slight push in the direction of the corridor that led to the machina ascendere. “Go, go, go.”
Well, she had to go. One way or another, she had to find out what this was about.
Keeping her smile firmly in place, Alex walked along the dance floor with what she hoped was a casual stroll, discreetly stuffing the little crystal in
to her bra.
The corridor that housed the elevation unit was expectedly deserted, as everyone was either dancing, watching the dancers, or socializing as if their petty lives depended on it.
Alex’s worry turned into full-blown dread, squeezing her body like an invisible web of steel cables. What if this was a trap? Were they waiting up there for her with armed guards, ready to collar her when she ambled into her supposed meeting?
Alex was so preoccupied, she didn’t pay any attention to her surroundings.
A hand shot out from an alcove and before she knew it she was pinned between a dark velvet-covered wall and a tall, hard body. Alex gasped.
Darken’s face peeled out of the darkness, its sharp, aristocratic plains cast in the shadows of the alcove.
He was so close, she could feel his hot breath on her mouth. Her entire body tingled, tightening in all the right places. He raised a finger to his lips and his mouth curved into that lazy, slightly insane, and absolutely irresistible smile that always sent her heart rate to dangerous heights. A rush of excitement shot through her body, fervent and liquid, making her giddy.
He must have felt it too, on the dance floor. How could he not have felt it?
Screw Roukewood and all these trueborns and their deceptions! At that moment, Alex didn’t care if she missed her appointment with the senator or whoever was waiting for her up there. Nothing mattered—if only she could have Darken.
Alex tipped her head back in anticipation of his lips, waiting for a kiss that never came.
Darken let her go and took a step back, still smiling this triumphant smile. He cocked his head to the side. “And? What did you get?”
It took Alex a long, confused moment to realize he was talking about the stupid envelope.
Something inside her deflated. Even if the alcove had collapsed on top of them, she couldn’t have felt more crushed.
This was all about Roukewood?
With a stiff movement of her hand, she held the card out to him, fighting against the disappointment that was surging over her in bitter waves.
Darken’s eyes skimmed over the message and he made a face. “Quite cheesy!”
“I’d say it’s rather romantic,” Alex said tartly, raising her chin. It was cheesy, alright, but Darken didn’t need to know that she agreed with him. The amused look in his eyes told her that he wasn’t buying what she was selling—not one little bit.
Insufferable prick!
Alex shifted a little, unsuccessfully trying to bring some distance between her and Darken in the small, sweltry space of the alcove.
The question burned in her mouth. But she wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t. “How did you know?”
Darken looked up from the card. A small, crooked grin tugged at his lips. “I know the look of a man whose interest in a woman has been sparked. He was intrigued by you the moment he saw you in the cloister. I just made sure to sharpen that interest. And nothing sharpens such interest more than the appearance of a rival.”
Alex’s eyebrows arched upward. “So what, now I’m the prize in some stupid male rivalry?”
“If you want to perceive it that way.”
Well, wasn’t she feeling special?
Darken shrugged. “I know men like Roukewood. He’s a player. A man who likes the conquest. By dancing with you I turned you into a challenge I knew he wouldn’t able to resist. I made winning you his greatest triumph. He will chase you as long as he cannot have you.”
The last flicker of hope died inside Alex. So it had all been a game to fire up another man’s libido. She bit the inside of her lip, struggling to keep the disappointment from showing on her face.
Reaching for sass to cover up her wounded feelings, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Please, tell me that men are not that easy to predict.”
Darken gave her another silky shrug. “I’m afraid when it comes to a pretty woman, we are quite one-dimensional.”
Of course!
“What if it’s a trap?” she asked.
“It’s not.”
“What if it is?”
Darken sighed in a way that indicated that she was making a completely unreasonable point. “I tell you, it is not a trap. But if it turns out to be one, you get to tell me ‘I told you so.’”
Great comfort if she ended up rotting in a cell—or worse, at the bottom of some dirty grave.
Darken peeked out into the corridor. “Coast is clear. You better get going. We wouldn’t want you to be late for your date.”
Alex rolled her eyes, slipped out of the alcove, and made a beeline for the machina ascendere, the magic-fueled platforms trueborns often used instead of elevators.
Angry tears pricked at her eyes. An act! The dance. The passion. Nothing but a stupid act.
And she had allowed herself to be fooled by it yet again. Alex pressed her lips together. She had been ready to throw herself at Darken—had been ready to risk their whole operation for a little nooky!—while Darken had been working on their scheme all along.
And the worst was that she couldn’t even be angry at him. He hadn’t done it to deceive her or jerk her around. No, the biggest accusation she could make, was that he had acted professionally and jumped upon an opportunity as it presented itself. If their roles were reversed, she would probably have done the same.
The thought didn’t make her feel less devastated.
Well, he could have told her his intent, right?
Alex angrily straightened her dress and smoothed her hair, before placing her hand on the magic panel in the wall that would call the machina ascendere.
Well, let this be a lesson to you, sugar! Just put him out of your fucking mind!
The problem was, that he was not only in her mind but also in her heart, and she wasn’t sure how to get him out of there without ripping it out as well.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE glossy black doors of the machina ascendere opened with a soft swishing sound.
Alex stepped off the round, translucent crystal platform and into a tiny, crescent-shaped room bare of any furniture, except for an abstract black-and-white painting—another example of artistic expression that Alex would never fully understand—and an armchair, apparently for people who wanted to spend some time in an empty room with an ugly picture. She had to be inside one of the palace towers.
A small door led out onto the balcony. Alex cautiously paused by the door and let her true skin rise beneath the surface of her human skin, gently unfurling her sensory threads and probing the outside area with her acute shaper senses. No response. If there was a battalion of armed guards waiting out there, they were keeping perfectly still and quiet as mice. Not that she’d put it past them. Oh well, if Darken was wrong, she would at least try to rub his nose in it before she died.
Ignoring the tense beat of her heart, Alex pushed the door open and emerged onto the wide balcony that curved around the circular tower. Pots of magnificent yellow and pink mimosas were scattered across the angular stones, as well as colorful bunches of rain lilies, glowing like little jewels beneath the already lit stone lanterns.
To Alex’s right, the lights of the city expanded past the horizon, like a sea of stars shining beneath an already purple sky that was fading to a deep dusk blue, ready to be swallowed by the night.
To her left, at the backside of the palace, vast cultured gardens claimed several acres of land before giving way to dark, majestic woods. The famous Royal Rose Gardens of Crona Palace. A huge maze, flanked by illuminated fountains, rose in the center of the garden, its entwined pathways between towering hedges currently dipped into a deep, eerie gloom. Above the gardens, a breathtaking sunset set fire to the sky with stripes of glowing yellow, orange, pink, red, purple, and violet—so intense, it seemed almost impossible that it could be real.
Alex paused for a second. It had to be one of the most beautiful views she’d ever seen in her life—and the last few weeks had treated her well in that regard. Then again, she’d also seen some of her wo
rst, Alex reflected darkly.
Senator Roukewood was standing at the edge of the balcony that overlooked the gardens, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. She read no alarm in his posture. There was no one else in sight and she didn’t feel any deceitful vibrations, either. They were alone out here. Perhaps, Darken was right and this wasn’t an ambush.
Or it was a very clever one.
Alex quietly closed the tower door and approached Roukewood, still wary.
“Milord?”
He turned to her and smiled. “Ah, Lady de Nuy. I’m glad that you accepted my invitation.”
Hah! As if he’d expected otherwise. She’d bet he would have been most put out if she hadn’t appeared.
He indicated the parapet beside him. “I thought you might be interested in watching the Illuminum for the prime’s arrival. It is always a sight to behold, and I understand this is your first time.” He lowered his voice and, in a more confiding tone, said, “Most people go out into the gardens, but I daresay that you get the best view from up here.” He winked. “Personal tip.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed a little. Humble, aren’t we? Yet she forced a smile and walked over to him, throwing a casual glance over the parapet. Sure enough, far below people were streaming out of the palace onto a big terrace. From above, they reminded Alex of a gathering of bright, colorful bugs.
Together they watched the congregation, while the sun slowly vanished behind the horizon. Out here, the heavy charge of the magic wards that surrounded the palace tingled over Alex’s skin like hundreds of invisible fingers. She suppressed the urge to rub her arms. If the senator had another secret agenda for this meeting, he didn’t seem in any hurry to reveal it.
“I trust you are enjoying your stay so far, my lady?” Roukewood turned his attention to her. “I believe this year they have put a particularly great effort into the decoration and presentation of the palace …”
“Oh, it’s most exciting,” Alex replied. About as exciting as rolling in a bed full of nails, waiting for one to pierce something vital. “The palace is beyond beautiful, my lord.”