Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
I didn’t want him to let me go.
That damnable feeling— the one of belonging with him— surged through me, and dear gods, there truly was something wrong with me.
My hands flattened against the wood. In my chest, my heart raced. Then the door cracked open beneath my palms. He was letting me go. Something akin to . . . to disappointment flashed through me, leaving me even more confused, with him— with myself.
“All right, I’m officially . . . flabbergasted.” The soft glow from the lamp near the bed I sat upon lit Grady’s profile. He sat on the edge of my bed, his sword resting against the chest at the foot of the bed, more relaxed after most of his anger at learning that the special guest hadn’t been expecting me had passed.
“Flabbergasted?”
“Dumbfounded and every other unnecessary adjective you can think of. The Prince of Vytrus came to discuss the Iron Knights? Who wouldn’t be surprised.” Grady dragged a hand over his face. “And you’re sure he’s not going to say something to the Baron about you telling him the truth?”
“I’m pretty sure.” I tipped my head back. It was late, about an hour after I’d left Prince Thorne’s chambers. I’d just finished telling Grady what had happened— well, not everything. I didn’t want to traumatize him with unnecessary details. “But I can’t know for sure since I can’t read him. I tried several times to get inside his head, but I couldn’t.”
He scratched at the faint growth of hair along his cheek. “You have to tell the Baron that you got the information at least partly that way, though. If he thinks the Prince simply told you because you asked, he’s not going to believe you.”
“I know.” Which meant I really hoped Prince Thorne held to what he said, and that he wouldn’t speak a word of it.
Tugging the edges of the black robe— my robe, one made of comfortable cotton that wasn’t transparent— around me, I smothered a yawn as silence filled the large, fairly empty chamber.
There wasn’t much to the immaculate space. A wardrobe. The bed. A settee near the terrace doors. A nightstand and chest. The antechamber, though, was outfitted with more than the necessities— a deep-seated settee and chairs arranged upon a thick plush rug of ivory chenille, a small dining table and credenza made of white oak, and various odds and ends the Baron had gifted over the years. The space was beautiful, well maintained, and leagues above any other place I’d have ever slept in, but it wasn’t home.
I wanted it to feel like that.
I’d yet to know what that even felt like, but I thought it would be a lot like what I felt when I was in the gardens, my fingers sunk deep in the soil, and my mind quiet. There was a sense of belonging there. Peace.
“You were with this prince for a while.” Grady tentatively broached what he’d yet to bring up.
My toes curled against the sheet. “Not that long.”
“Long enough.”
Stay the night with me. My stomach made that idiotic dipping motion again. I shook my head. Why in the world did he want me to stay the night with him? I wasn’t sure I had pleased him beyond providing a release. Except, he had said I’d interested him, enthralled him.
“What happened?” Grady prodded.
Immediately, the memory of the Prince and me in that damn bathtub flashed in my mind. His hands on me. His finger inside me. Holding me. And it was the last bit that stuck with me. The holding me part. I dragged my teeth over my lip as I swallowed. “Not much.”
“Lis . . .”
“Grady?”
A muscle ticked at his temple. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that. So, if something happened that’s got you feeling— ”
“Nothing happened that I didn’t allow to happen,” I cut in.
“That’s the thing, though.” Grady scooted closer. “You didn’t really choose to go to him tonight, now did you? You felt like you had to, so were you ever in the position to not allow whatever it was that happened?”
I wiggled a little, discomfited with that being the second time I’d been asked that question. “He gave me a choice, and I did choose to go to him— something we’ve already established.”
Grady stared at me as if I had sprouted a third eye in the center of my forehead.
“Seriously. He gave me a choice in what we did— and we didn’t have sex,” I told him. “And so what if we had? I’m not a virgin, Grady.”
His lips curled, and though I couldn’t see the flush in his brown skin, I knew it was there. “I really didn’t need to know that but thank you for sharing.”
“You’re welcome.” Dipping my chin, I giggled at the glare he sent me. “He really did give me a choice, Grady, and I get that the whole idea of me wanting to do anything that I did is a complicated mess. Trust me. I know, but . . .” I thought of what Naomi had once told me when I confided in her that I sometimes enjoyed it when Claude sent me to find out information for him. Few things are black-and-white, Lis. Most of life exists in that messy gray area in between, but if you wanted what was happening— you enjoyed it and so did the other— then there’s nothing wrong, she’d said. Anyone who tells you different either hasn’t been where you’ve been or they’re just living a different life. Doesn’t make either of you right or wrong. I exhaled slowly. “But this Hyhborn . . . he’s different.”