Page 60 of Winter's Waltz
“I do trust you.”
Those three words, coming from a woman who had just discovered she had been betrayed by one man and who had hinted she had been similarly deceived by another, held a great deal of significance. But those three words coming from Genevieve Winter?
They meanteverybloody thing.
He cupped her head, fingers trapped within the warm silk of her hair. “Does that mean I can stay here tonight, empress?”
She smiled. “It means you damned well better, Marquess. Or I shall punch you in the nose again.”
She was teasing. He hoped.Christ, one never knew with her.
He grinned. “Anything but that. I promise to remain on one condition.” He paused, thinking it over. “Nay. Make that two conditions.”
She raised a brow. Her hands had come to rest on his shoulders, and she looped them around his neck now, using the action to tug his head lower. Bringing their mouths nearer. “Oh?”
“First that we check on Arthur together. It’s been a week since I’ve been here to give him his meat scraps from the kitchens.”
“Are you the reason that beast of mine has been haunting the kitchens?” she demanded.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Guilty. I’ve been giving him sausages. The little scamp loves them.”
Her gaze sank to his mouth, and he swore she muttered something that sounded rather likegoddamn dimples.
Max raised a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
She fluttered her lashes in an exaggerated imitation of a coquette. “I asked you what the other condition was.”
Ha.She had not, and they both knew it, but he would play along, because his other condition possessed far more potential for satisfaction than the first, his fondness for Gen’s three-legged beast aside.
“My other condition is that you kiss me.”
“With pleasure,” she said, and then she rose on her toes, pressing her lips to his.
