Page 59 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
“See, you don’t dance horribly,” he pointed out, twirling me away before pulling me close so that my back was pressed firmly against his chest. “You just need the right partner.”
“You’re insufferable,” I muttered, spinning out once more.
“You like it,” he replied, his grin infuriatingly charming as he pulled me back towards him.
When I stepped on his foot, it wasn’t entirely accidental.
Clay chuckled softly, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he ran his thumb slowly over my palm. His eyes, still that magnificent shade of gold, trailed down my body, lingering on the slit of my skirt where the blade at my thigh was visible once more.
“I have to admit,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, “the dagger on the thigh is an interesting accessory, but I don’t think it’s having the effect you intended.”
“And what effect do you think I want it to have?” I shot back, my tone sharp despite the heat blooming in my cheeks and the tension curling low in my stomach.
“I suspect you want to remind people you’re not someone easily killed,” he said, his gaze flicking to my face. “I suspect that even though you put on a brave face day in and day out, the things you went through left scars, and now you need that blade to scare off anyone who might think of trying to hurt you further.”
I titled my head back, momentarily forgetting about the room around us as my body flushed with heat. “And are you not afraid of me?”
He leaned closer, his lips just brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Princess, I’m terrified of you.”
My knees weakened at his words, and he felt it. His grin widened as his arm tightened around my waist, holding me upright as he continued to guide me through the dance. Around us, the room was insignificant; the music, the laughter, the murmured conversations all faded into the background, as it so often did when he was this close to me.
Clayton Vail had always seen me—truly seen me—in a way no one else ever had. And for that, I hated him. But there was something else I felt forhim, something deeper that I refused to name, that burned just as hot as my anger when he said things like that.
“But as I was saying,” he continued. “That dagger is having a very different effect on me than the one you intended. So you’ll have to excuse me for stealing you away for a moment. I had planned to stay out of your way tonight—I really did. I even told myself I wouldn’t look at you but then you walked in, wearing this dress, with so much of your perfect skin on display and a blade strapped to your thigh, and you looked like a Goddess in a room full of Mortals. After that, I couldn’t help myself. Spending the night watching you, dressed like this, on another man’s arm was not a form of torture I had been prepared for.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled slightly, breaking step. Clay’s arm tightened again, steadying me, his expression unreadable.
He was jealous.
The realization struck me like a blow. Clayton Vail was jealous. The knowledge sent a rush of emotions surging through me—satisfaction, confusion, and something that felt dangerously close to hope.
Although what I was hoping for was beyond me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring up at him.
He held my gaze, not even blinking. “For what, princess? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You haven’t either, not really.”
Clay raised a brow, and I knew what he was thinking without him having to say the words.
“Yes, you should have told me about Elaina sooner, but that engagement isn’t in your control any more than this one is in mine.”
I sighed heavily, unhappily. Dancing with him was easy, effortless. How could something feeling so incredibly right be so terribly forbidden? It simplywasn’t fair.
“Sometimes, I think about how things would be different if it were in my control,” he admitted.
“And what would you change?”
“A lot,” Clay laughed darkly before looking down at me again, the fire in his eyes sending waves of heat down my body. “But for starters, you wouldn’t be sleeping across the hall tonight.”
The music slowed, the melody winding down to its final, lingering notes. We came to a stop, standing far too close, our gazes locked. I opened my mouth to speak, to say anything that might break the tension crackling between us, but no words came.
“Clay, I—”
“Lady Moore, perhaps I might trouble you for the next dance?” Emperor Kamon’s voice interrupted from behind me, startling me back into the present.
I turned quickly, my heart still racing as I forced a smile onto my face. “Of course,” I replied, stepping away from Clay and taking the Emperor’s offered hand.
