Page 110 of Throne Off Course

She didn’t back away. “You don’t have to hate it,” he murmured, voice low. “Because it doesn’t matter.”

She swallowed hard. “Alexander—”

“But you—you do matter,” he said, his fingers brushing against her wrist, tentative but warm. “And I’m so tired of pretendingotherwise.”

Suddenly, it felt like the air had changed—charged, heavy with something inevitable. “If we do this,” she whispered, “there’s no going back.”

His lips curved into something small, something almost tender. “Good,” he murmured. And then, he kissed her.

The world dissolved around her. His lips, impossibly soft against hers, moved with a delicate precision that made her breath catch. She hadn’t prepared for the way his hand would cradle her face as if she were something precious, something that might break under too much pressure. The restraint in his touch was maddening.

She smiled against his lips, enjoying him trying so hard to be gentle when she could feel the tension in his body.

The kiss deepened, heat rising between them in waves. His lips traced the corner of her mouth, her jaw, then lower.

A thud sounded from the hallway.

They froze.

Alexander pulled back slightly, his gaze flickering toward the door. Footsteps echoed faintly beyond it. Someone lingering. Someone listening.

Emilia exhaled sharply. “Right,” she murmured, voice still breathless. “The palace.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to think.

She watched him, still trying to steady herself. “Do you—?”

A soft knock interrupted them, followed by the clearing of a throat.

“Your Highness,” came Thomas’s steady voice through the door. “Lord Davenport is looking for you regarding tomorrow’s charity committee meeting.”

Alexander’s eyes met Emilia’s. Relief and frustration warred in his expression.

“Thank you, Thomas,” he called, voice remarkably composed. Then, lower, only for her: “Come with me.”

She blinked. “Where—”

“Somewhere private.”

He moved to the door, opening it just enough to address his equerry.

Thomas stood there, posture perfect, expression neutral despite the faint flush coloring Emilia’s cheeks. If he noticed anything amiss, he gave no indication.

“Thomas, please inform Davenport I’ll review the notes first thing tomorrow. And ensure we’re not disturbed as we exit.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Thomas nodded, turning smartly to create a buffer between them and any prying eyes in the corridor. Even at this hour, the palace walls had ears.

Emilia let Alexander lead her, their footsteps soft against the polished floors. They slipped out of his office without another word, the air between them charged, thick with something that had no place in palace corridors.

She realized where they were going only when he pushed open a different set of doors.

His palace apartment.

A room no one would question him retreating to.

A place where no one would interrupt.