House of Shadows (Royal Houses 2)

Fordham laid her backward on the steps of the hot spring. She lay naked against the wet stone for his eyes to rove over her. And he took her in appreciatively, as if she were the most glorious thing he had ever witnessed. She took in her full at the same time, her eyes widening at the sight of him as he came out of the water naked in all of his glory with water streaming down his beautiful body.

He smiled something fierce and primal. “Mine,” he growled, as he pressed a kiss to her swollen lips.

“Yes,” she breathed, beckoning him to her.

His body moved over her, discovering her in a whole new way. Her back arched, and she shifted, wanting more of him. He must have recognized that and his lips came back down on her. He shifted into position against her, and everything narrowed so closely. She groaned softly, a wave releasing through her body. Then he moved and finally, finally, they were joined.

The feeling was unfamiliar, almost painful. But then he was seated entirely and that pain passed. She released a harsh breath and opened to her eyes to look up at him. A coupling during the winter festival was more than a blessing. Fordham was unequivocally more than her heart could ever encompass, and to have him here, now, was almost too much to bear. Here, they were united as one. As they always should have been.

Water lapped at them as Fordham began to move, and soon they were meeting the fluidity of the water all around them. A stroke as perfectly timed as the tide and just as inevitable. Magic lit in response to them, as if the faerie lights from the party had never truly dimmed. It had just followed them to this moment. The moonlight touched the surface of the hot springs, brightening the water and forest beyond. Right before her eyes, frost drops bloomed to life. And then, miraculously, snow began to fall as if the very elements approved.

Fordham pushed a hand up into her hair and drew their lips together. Heat sparked through her as she hit the crest of a long wave. And everything crashed down all around her. She quivered in his embrace as he grunted and came unleashed in her arms.

After a moment, they lay, sprawled on the steps of the hot springs. They breathed heavily, releasing hot puffs of air into the sky. Snow touched their lashes.

Fordham pulled her body closer. “I fear to ask…”

“Ask,” she said, kissing his chest.

“Once your engagement has ended, may I court you properly?”

She laughed, leaning on an elbow. “And how do you explain this?”

His eyes were so sincere though. He wanted to do this right.

She pressed one more kiss to his beautifully swollen lips. “Yes. Once I break everything off, you can court me.”

He grinned devilishly. “Then, I believe we should do this a few more times before we get to that point.”

She laughed in relief and fell into his arms all over again.

43

The Geivhrea

Geivhrea dawned the next morning to a bright winter wonderland. Snow blanketed the ground in thick drifts, cloaking the forest and beyond. The temperature had dropped precipitously in the middle of the night, and Kerrigan might have noticed if she’d ever made it to her bed.

“No, don’t get up,” Fordham groaned as she tried to slip out of the covers.

She laughed and snuggled in close again. “We have to return to Rosemont today for the party.”

“Maybe we could stay here instead.”

“I wish. We were invited by the king and queen.”

He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. “Politics,” he said dismissively.

“Come on, you,” she said. “We have to get moving.”

He dragged her in for another lingering kiss. “We didn’t sleep. Maybe we should stay in bed a little longer.”

“And I thought I was the bad influence.”

He grinned devilishly and pinched her rear as she slid out of bed. She swatted at him and pulled her shift back over her head. She found a thick robe in a wardrobe and drew it close around her shoulders.

“I should probably change before someone notices.”

A sharp knock at the door had her heart racing. She waved at Fordham as she hastened to hide behind the curtains.

“Yes?” Fordham called.

A servant, Mereda, peeked her head in. “Sir, Lord Argon sent me up here. Lord March has arrived from Rosemont for Geivhrea breakfast with the House of Cruse.”

Kerrigan bit her lip so hard that she reopened the bite from last night.

“We will break fast as soon as you have arrived. I must locate Lady Argon,” she said, purposely looking around the room, as if Kerrigan would jump out at any moment, “and prepare her. None of us would want Lord March to suspect she was not in her bed last night.”

“Thank you very much,” Fordham said with a nod. “I will be down promptly.”