Microsoft Word - Cinder-Marie_Sexton.doc (10 page)

No, not to Jessalyn. To me. But how could I tell him that?

"Milton, come."

Milton went obediently to his master.

Xavier held the shoe out to Milton. "Milton, find."

Milton huffed. He took the slipper in his heavy, wet jowls. He padded across the room. He dropped the sodden thing in my lap, then turned his mournful doggy gaze to the prince.

"Every time!" Xavier said, laughing bitterly. "Every time, he leads me straight to you! It makes no sense! It's as if…" He stopped, his expression going from confused to contemplative. "As if…"

He stared at me, lost in thought.

"Straight to you," he said again.

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My heart began to race. My palms suddenly felt

damp. He stood up, staring at me, his eyes full of wonder and surprise. My mouth went dry.

"Your eyes," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

I ducked my head, suddenly unable to stand the

weight of his gaze upon me. I didn't know if I wanted him to discover the truth or not. I hated lying to him, but if he knew Jessalyn was the wrong person, he'd refuse to marry her. He'd choose another bride, and I'd lose him.

"Look at me," he said, giving me an order for the second time that night. It took every ounce of my will to obey. His intensity was disconcerting. I couldn't think. I could barely breathe. He stepped up to my seat and held his hand down to me. "Dance with me."

I had to force myself to speak. "Sire?" My voice didn't sound right at all. It was entirely too rough, and too shaky.

"You heard me," he said. "Dance with me."

I rose, although my knees shook. He took my right hand in his left. He put his arm around my waist. It made my heart race, being so close to him again. He looked so sure of himself. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"No."

"Yes, you are," he said. "Now."

He started to dance. It should have been easy. He
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was leading. I had only to follow. But I failed. The first step I managed to fake. The second, I went the wrong way, but corrected quickly. The third, I went forward when I should have gone back, and we ran into each other.

"Again," he said, but I'd lost any semblance of grace. As soon as he started to move again, I stumbled and nearly fell, stepping on his foot in the process.

"Eldon, what are you doing?"

"I don't know how to dance."

Only a few words, yet the change they caused him

was profound. He looked shocked, and hurt. "But…" He let me go, backing up a step, obviously confused. "That can't be."

I didn't know what to say, and I watched as he went from confused to defeated, his eyes going dark, his shoulders slumping. "Sire?"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Xavier—" But before I could say more, he waved my words away.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning away from me. "I was being a fool. I don't know what I was thinking."

But I
did
know what he'd been thinking, and the infuriating thing was he'd been right. I'd tried to tell him once, but he hadn't believed me. I still didn't know what I had to gain by convincing him of the truth, but I hated to 99

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see him so lost. I wanted to touch him. I longed to dance with him again, even if it meant tripping over my own feet.

I wanted him to look at me with that bright, astounded expression.

"It was the magic," I said.

It was barely a whisper. It was a miracle he heard me, but he did. He looked over at me, his eyes wide.

"That's what she said when I complimented her dancing."

"I know."

He didn't answer, but I could tell he was

considering it again, replaying the night again in his mind, trying to decide if it was possible. He stepped closer to me again. He put his finger under my chin and tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at him. He used his other hand on the small of my back to pull me closer. "Could it be?" he asked.

Yes!
I wanted to cry.
Yes, it could be, and it is!
But before I could answer, he kissed me.

His lips were soft. His touch was light. It was just as it had been on the dance floor—my legs shaking and unsteady, the gentleness of his hand on my back. The surety that I was only still standing because he held me up.

I put my arms around his neck and opened myself up to him. His tongue touched my lips, testing—
tasting
—and I whimpered. He moaned in response, putting both of his
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arms around me, pulling me tight against him, kissing me deeper.

This was how it should be—chest to chest, not with the strange sensation of breasts pressed between us, but as two men, groin to groin, the proof his arousal hard against me. When he pulled back to look at me, his eyes were full of wonder.

"It
is
you!"

"I tried to tell you. I only wanted to see you again. I missed you that day in the woods, and I just wanted to say goodbye." The words spilled out of me, tumbling over each other in their haste to finally be free. "The witch did the spell, but I never meant for any of this to happen. I never expected you to choose me. I just wanted one dance. I didn't want you to leave without seeing you one last time.

And so I went to the ball, and we were dancing, and it was all so perfect, but then the spell wore off, and I had to leave in such a hurry, and I lost the shoe. And then you showed up the next day with Milton, and I had no idea what to do."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried to, that night at the inn, but you didn't believe me. And I was so worried you'd send me away. I can't bear for you to send me away, Xavier. Please let me stay—"

He kissed me, cutting off my breathless plea. There 101

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was no hesitation. Only urgency. His kiss was a demand.

An order. His fingers fumbled at the buttons on my shirt, and then my belt. He pushed me back on the bed. Part of me worried having this much of him now would only make it hurt more when I lost him, but I had no power to resist him. I was overwhelmed, as I so often was in his presence, the sheer force of his will propelling me forward, carrying me where he wanted me to be. I could only cling to him and trust he'd see me safely to the other side. I was lost in him—the weight of him on top of me, the way he tasted, the sounds he made, the softness of his lips, and insistence of his hands.

Lord, his
hands
.

They seemed to be everywhere, touching and

teasing, and just when I thought the pleasure must surely peak and burn out, he'd shift his focus, touch me someplace new, ignite some yet unknown spark of desire within me, fanning it into a flame, stoking it into a wildfire that burned me up and consumed me.

When it was over, we lay spent and breathless, the sticky wetness of our pleasure cooling between us. His arms were tight around me, his face buried in my neck. I was glad he couldn't see the dampness on my cheeks.

"Eldon," he whispered, "what in the world are we going to do?"

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3

I slept there with him, his arms tight around me as if he thought I might try to escape. Not that I had any intention of doing so. It was a peacefulness I had never known, curled up against his strong body, the brush of his breath on the back of my neck. Knowing he cared for me, on some level at least.

He woke me once in the night, rousing me from the depths of slumber, raising me again to the heights of desire.

His mouth was warm and sweet and his hands were gentle yet insistent. He was firm in his desire. I could not have told him no. And yet what he seemed to want most was to please me.

I wished morning would never come. There was no

price I wouldn't have paid for a magic that would have let my night with him last forever. But it was not to be.

I woke to the bells of the tower. It was six o'clock.

The glow of morning sunlight through the curtains made the room feel soft and somehow secretive. Xavier was already up, sitting in the chair I'd occupied the night before, watching me. He didn't say a word.

For the first time, I felt awkward with him. He had a robe on, but I was still naked. I was painfully aware of the 103

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tan lines on my skin—most of my body was pale, but my arms, face and the back of my neck were tan, betraying the hours I'd spent working in the sun. I hated the calluses on my hands. I was ashamed of my often-patched clothes as I hurriedly pulled them on. His silence seemed ominous.

I finally turned to face him. A billion questions and hopes and worries stormed through my mind. Did he regret it? Did he want to see me again? Was it a one-time thing? I didn't even know how to leave. Was I to be kissed, as his lover? Bid goodbye, as a friend? Or excused, like a servant? Or worse, like a whore?

I could tell nothing by his eyes.

"Sire?" I wished my voice didn't shake. I wished I still felt as sure with him as I had before he'd taken me to his bed.

He smiled at me, but only a barely. It was a thin, sad smile. "Don't call me that."

"Xavier—"

He stood suddenly, cutting me off. "I'll break off the engagement today."

My heart stopped beating. I could barely make

myself breathe, let alone speak. His words felt like the end of everything I'd hoped for. "Why?"

"
Why
?" His voice was hard and bitter, and I instinctively took a step back. "Why do you think?"

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"You have to take a wife—"

"She's not the girl I want!" He stepped closer to me.

His anger gave way to something gentle. He brushed his fingers over my cheek. "She's not the one I love."

If my heart had stopped beating before, it kicked into high speed now. "You love me?"

He smiled at me. He put his arms around me and

pulled me close. "Eldon, you have no idea how many times I wanted to touch you, or to kiss you, but I was afraid you'd be horrified. If I'd only known…" He kissed my neck. His hand caressed my back. "Now that I do, we can be together.

The way we should be."

A ridiculous, giddy grin threatened my composure.

But I knew he wasn't seeing the whole picture.

"And what about your crown?"

He froze, his lips still against the pounding pulse in my neck, and I knew I was right. He hadn't thought it through. "Who cares?" he said at last. "I don't need it."

"So you'll give up your title and your inheritance?

Leave the palace? Renounce your claim to your family's money and all the luxuries that go with it?"

I was challenging him now, and he took a step back, standing up straight, putting his shoulders back, the way he always did when somebody questioned his authority. "Yes.

Why not?"

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"Have you thought about what that would be like?"

"I don't need to. All that matters is that we'd be together."

The fact that he'd consider giving up his title for me was astounding. It made my heart swell inside my chest. It made me feel like I could fly.

But I knew he'd regret it in the end.

"What would we do? Live in my aunt's house, both of us as servants? I'm not even paid a salary."

His certainty began to fade as he considered my

words. "Then we'll leave."

"And go where? What would you have us do? It's true, I could find a spot in another house. You could find work as a clerk maybe, or a tutor. We might make enough between us to get a room in town, at a boarding house. Is that what you want? To live like a peasant?" My words hurt him. I could see it. But he had to consider the consequences of his rash decisions. "No more horses. No more afternoons spent playing fetch with Milton. No more custom riding boots or exquisite meals. No more champagne that tastes like sunlight." That statement seemed to confuse him, but I rushed on. "No money. No title. Nothing. I'm glad you like fish, Xavier, because we'd be eating it nearly every day. Is that how you want to live? Do I mean so much to you as that?"

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He wilted—there was no other way to put it. He

slumped down into his chair with his head in his hands.

"What do you suggest?"

"Marry her," I said. "Marry anyone. Take the wife your father's law demands." He looked up at me, shock and disbelief in his eyes. "Only…" My voice caught, and I had to take a deep breath before I could go on. "Only let me stay. That's all I ask. Don't send me away."

"And then what, Eldon? Hide you away like some dark secret while she enjoys the prestige of being my wife?"

"I don't care about prestige. The only thing I care about is being with you in whatever capacity you'll have me."

It was pathetic, I knew, the depths I was willing to sink just to keep some small piece of him, but my words made him smile—a bright, joyous smile that made his whole face light up. He stood up and took my hand, pulling me into his arms. "Don't you see? That's why you deserve it more than her."

He kissed me, pulling me tight against him. I slid my hands inside his robe, sighing at the warmth of his smooth skin against my fingers. I could feel that power welling up in him, making his kisses harder and his touch insistent. It threatened to ignite a fire in both of us that 107

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would quickly make me forget my duties. But before it could sweep me away, we were interrupted by a knock at the door.

I was still trying to catch my breath when Xavier answered it.

It was a servant—a young boy I didn't know, who

looked with obvious curiosity between the prince in his robe and me. "Sire, the Lady Jessalyn sent me to find Cinder."