Page 130 of The Shadows Between Us
I try to keep my face neutral at the sudden weight.
“Oh, sire, thank you! But I have plenty of land for the two of us. He doesn’t need it. But a title! We would be honored to accept that.”
“Then I will make it all official and have my man draw up all the particulars. We’ll gift it to him in public to help do away with the suspicion about you two.”
Rhoda leaves the table abruptly and runs over to Galen. She takes him by the hand before leading him from the room.
Meanwhile, Kallias’s hand slides to the inside of my thigh. I don’t know how he manages it while also bringing food to his lips. I nearly drop my spoon when his thumb rubs over an especially sensitive spot. I’m so glad I opted for a dress with thin skirts today.
Even though it makes it impossible to focus on a single word Hestia is saying.
Something about inviting me to visit with her at Lord Paulos’s estate. Or maybe—
Kallias’s hand slides higher.
Oh, that wicked man.
“Forgive me,” I say, standing from the table, “but I’m not feeling so well. I think I’ll retire to my rooms.”
I practically run from the table, hoping to hide the heat in my cheeks and my quickened breath. I don’t spare Kallias a glance.
WHENIREACH MY ROOM,I dismiss all the servants who had begun moving my things over to Kallias’s rooms. They appear to have madeit through my vanity and washroom but stopped just shy of the wardrobe.
Perhaps I should consider a cool bath.
There’s a knock, followed by the door opening. Kallias, of course.
“You’re unwell? Why didn’t you say—”
I throw myself at him, layering hot, openmouthed kisses on him. Though startled at first, he soon returns them in kind. Lavender-mint fills my senses, and his mouth has the light taste of wine.
I lean him against the nearest wall, fusing our bodies together, let my hands slide the jacket off his shoulders.
“I’m just fine,” I say as I pull back slightly to deal with a button that’s impeding my progress. “You, however, are in trouble.”
“For what?” he asks innocently.
“Distracting me to the point of not being able to eat my meal.”
He spins us around, spinsmearound, so my front is pressed against the wall, my head turned to the side to look at him.
“That doesn’t seem right,” he says. “All I did was…”
And then he’s bending down, pulling up my skirts so he can trace the same path he did under the table, only this time on my bare skin. Meanwhile, his lips are exploring the back of my neck, and I’m trapped, helpless to do anything but feel him as his fingers explore higher and higher.
When I can’t take it any longer, I push off from the wall, spin to face him. His lips find mine, and his fingers are in my hair, pulling out the pins I used to hold it up this morning.
I place my hands at my back, trying to reach the laces holding my dress together. I need it off. Now. There is too much between his body and mine.
Once he realizes what I’m doing, he says, “No.” He steps backward. “No,” he repeats.
And I think I might scream if he tries to stop this, if he—
“Let me,” he adds.
In mere seconds my dress is gone, and I’m before him in my chemise.
He looks me over slowly, at the skin he can view beneath the practically see-through material.
