Page 78 of Spar of Hearts

Noticeably, he didn’t dive right in. He hovered awkwardly behind her, awaiting her answer. She appreciated him not forcing his help on her like he’d done so many times on their first voyage.

“Yes, thank you.” She drew her blonde hair out of his way, letting it fall across her chest. Her breath caught as Roderick trailed a hand down the bare space between her shoulder blades. Everywhere he grazed with his fingers felt red hot. She prayed her skin didn’t look like it.

Roderick wrapped the threads around his fingers and worked quietly. She cast a glance back at him, lips slightly parted.

“Who do I remind you of?”

“I was hoping you would forget the question.”

“Tell me.”

The firelight cast dancing shadows on her white corset. The barely audible sound of Roderick’s fingers brushing her skin came between the slosh of the waves, crackle of flames and shifting logs. He was struggling a bit. Though his large hands weren’t made for such delicate work, he approached the task with a patient reverence.

He sighed, sending a puff of breath onto the nape of her neck. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m trying to forget her.”

“You…want to forget her?”

Disappointment wormed into her gut. Anya had wished for a lot of things, but forgetting that night wasn’t one of them. Even if it was him she’d been with, he made her feel like a woman and not a princess for the first time in her life.

“I want to live in the moment for once in my life.”

Anya’s cheeks flushed as Roderick snaked an arm around her waist, tugging her closer, breath billowing over her neck.

“What are you doing?” She looked down at his possessive grip.

“Tying you up.”

“Ah!” She sucked through her teeth as he gave the corset strings a final pull. It wasn’t hard, but her chest was sore from some terrible combination of slamming into the baluster, nearly drowning, and sleeping in her corset.

Anya waited for Roderick to release her, but his arm stayed firmly around her waist. Stars above, just the feel of his hand on her belly was bringing her back to that night, the way his fingers tangled in her hair, the heady scent of wine, sweat and lust—the sensation of his lips brushing hers. Desire sparked to life in her core. She could tell this wasn’t a fleeting flame—more like an ember; a steady, burning coal she would have to contend with as long as Roderick was near. It was irrational. Girlish.

Thrilling.

“Why do you wear this?” Roderick asked, tracing a hand down her side. It seemed like an honest question. Had he never seen a corset up close before? Anya had assumed he had plenty of experience removing them.

“I kind of have to, don’t I?” Her eyes fell to where his fingers were slowly drifting down her waist.

She hadn’t worn a corset at the manor, but that was a special circumstance. Even with her daring choice of fashion at the Council session, she still gave over to the most basic of societal expectations. Compromises for appearance’s sake were a necessary part of her position. Anya couldn’t deny that being without it during such an enchanting evening had made her feel like a new woman. Or was it the effervescent wine?

Or…him?

“Do you like wearing it?”

“No. Who would?”

His hands paused on her hips. “I don’t see why you should force yourself to do something you don’t like. We’re thousands of miles from Valeria, Princess. There are no royal eyes here, aside from your own.”

The truth of those words sent a shiver down her spine. Anya dropped her gaze to where Roderick’s fingers pressed into the slit where her corset ended, giving way to bare skin. A finger occasionally dipped beneath the band of her sea-stained skirt.

Her willpower waned as his words sunk in. No one would see what they did in the solitude of this cave. Only nature would witness her weakness. The foamy waves would surely whisper, but no one would understand.

“My Lord, are you suggesting I take it off?”

His bare chest pressed against her back, slowly warming her center as he brought his face to her neck.

“Anya, I fear you’ve hit your head. That idea was all yours.”

“Ngh…” She tried to stifle a moan as Roderick’s breath diffused across her skin, filling the wolfish part of her mind with immense satisfaction. All her senses tilted toward her inner beast. A real, raw, vulnerable part of her that the weight of the impending Crown had suffocated for far too long.