Evil Twin

“Or learn to fish.” There were plenty in the sea and the rivers.

He nodded. His gaze dropped to her lips.

“Have you poisoned them?”

If not for the frogs and the crickets, he’d have probably heard her heart thumping away in her chest. “If I did, would I tell you the truth and give away my scheme?”

“A kiss would be worth the risk.” His big hand cupped her jaw, his fingertips slipping into the curls behind her ear. “Especially as I recall the last time I was poisoned.”

“Yet you’ve not kissed me since then.”

“You wonder if I lost interest? You wouldn’t think so if you knew how many times I jerked my cock on the ship. Because you were sore…and I’m taking this time to court you, instead.” His thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip. “Can you not tell? I lift you up so often.”

She was delighted by that admission. “That is why you always carry me around?”

“So that you know I’m strong enough to protect you.”

That was never in doubt.

His voice deepened. “Is it working?”

“Lifting me?”

“Courting you.”

Better than she liked to admit. Which was terrifying. At least when she’d thought him in love with Sapphira, she’d had some protection. A shield to put between Bane and her heart.

Now she had nothing.

His mouth was a breath from hers. “Is it working, my queen?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Probably because I’m not lifting you enough.” His hands skated down her sides to grip her bottom and heft her up. Pulse racing dizzily, she wrapped her arms around his neck. His voice was a low rumble. “Now?”

She shook her head, overwhelmed by his nearness, his solid strength. He’d picked her up so easily and held her without effort, and she’d never felt so safe and yet so much in danger.

The heat of his mouth skimmed the side of her neck. “Now?”

“No.” Her reply was the softest of exhalations.

He suckled the skin below her ear, drawing a shiver from every inch of her flesh, tugging open the lust residing deep within.

Her breath shuddered. “No.”

“I didn’t ask again.”

“You did. Silently. Though I’ve forgotten the question.”

“Courting.” Playfully he nipped the curve of her jaw. “Is it working?”

“Oh. Of course not.”

A flick of his tongue teased the corner of her mouth. “Are you sure?”

Not at all. But she only laughed breathlessly and felt his smile against her lips.

“Tell me to kiss you, Echo.”

She closed her eyes and tried to make herself say no. She couldn’t.

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

“One day you will trust me, my wife.” His warm mouth brushed over hers. “One day you will love me.”

Her chest tightened. “Do not ask me to.”

“It would do me no good if I did. A heart cannot be demanded or stolen or forced—love and trust must be given. So when I say that one day you will, I only speak my hope.”

Hope that she would love him. Wasn’t she a fool to even consider opening herself to this? Or was it as he said before—that she was simply afraid?

But perhaps only a fool would not be afraid.

“You truly want my heart?” Her voice sounded terribly, terribly small.

“I do,” he answered gruffly. “It is certain that we will set our marriage bed afire and do well there. But outside of our bed…you can keep me at a distance from your heart, or we can love and trust each other. That is the life I hope for.”

Sheer yearning filled her. “I have never hoped for such a life.”

She had never even dreamed of such a life.

“Neither did I, before you. But that will be my purpose now—to give you hope.”

Did she dare? Tears ached in her throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Then I’ll court you until you decide.” A wicked smile curved his mouth. “I enjoy lifting you.”

She enjoyed it, too. Especially when Bane lifted her as he did now, hard fingers digging into the soft curves of her ass and dragging her up the rigid trunk of flesh that had been burning against her stomach—making certain the sensitive spot between her legs got a good rubbing along the way. With a confusion of aching emotions still clogging her senses, on the first lift she could only cling to him, pressing her face into his neck and breathing hotly against his skin. Then he lifted her again, and again, and again, each time like a strike of flint against steel, sparking the flames that licked and seared, lighting the dark pit of lust gathering below her belly.

Then he stopped.

Which, of course, had been the wicked part of his plan.

Laughing against his throat, panting through her need, Echo buried her hands in his thick hair, wrapped her legs around his hips, and held on tight. He was right. They would set their bed afire. No matter what else was between them.

And when she’d begun this—her own evil scheme—what had she wanted? A kingdom where she could be queen. Where no one could command her, or have power over her…and she could escape her family for good. And in the midst of her scheme, hadn’t she been thrilled to discover pleasure in the bedroom, too?