Wild Heir (Fated Royals 4)

“Can we knock that shit off, please?”

With a growl, I thrust myself off the sofa and set about exploring again. I was fuming at first, annoyed at myself for missing my chance, but with every step I took I forced myself to calm down. If I wanted to keep control of this situation, I had to keep my wits about me. Anger was the most blinding emotion of all and I had to let go of it as fast as possible.

I realized, I was not doing very well at the seduction part of my plan and resolved to change my approach.

As I made my way from room to room, Vasile followed, re-igniting fires in most of the rooms as we went, intense but not threatening.

With my body and movements, I tried to convey as much confidence as I could, but it was just an act—I was nervous, in an unfamiliar place, and with a man who looked at me and treated me in a way that had me feeling things I’d never felt before.

His heavy footfalls followed me, big authoritative thumps on the stone floors. It was a reminder that he was just that—a man. A real man. Not some boy I was dancing with at the New Years’ dance, not some suitor barely into adulthood.

Vasile Greengallow was a man. I was as intimidated by him as I was turned on.

I trailed my finger along a polished length of wainscoting and then let myself through a pair of French doors. The air that met me was warm and sweet. The distinctive scent of oranges filled the air, and the heavy warmth of summer air enveloped me in the most wonderful way.

The sound of a click made me turn back to look at Vasile; in one hand he held a mechanical flint, and with a flick of his finger the gas sconce on the wall lit up, followed by sconce after sconce down the row.

I gasped and smiled as the room lit up with light. We had no such luxuries at my house; gas lamps were for the truly wealthy. The pleasant warm light filled the orangery, and revealed a swimming pool surrounded by the waxy-leafed orange trees.

For the first time since I’d left his brother’s house, I got a really good look at Vasile, not by moonlight but by the warm light of the glass gassier. His eyes were locked right on me, and he worked his jaw back and forth making the muscles of his jaw flutter.

“It’s like summer in here,” I said, saying the first thing that came to mind. “I barely remember the last one.”

“A needless indulgence, my father would say. He’s used to this cold. But I’ve spent so long away from here, living in warmth, that I missed it when I returned.”

Taking a step toward him, I mustered up my courage. “What is it, exactly, you plan to do with me?”

He shook his head, then looked me up and down, once and again. An ever-so-brief flare of his nostrils reminded me of some big animal in the rut. “You don’t want to know.”

But oh, how I did want to know. So much. And yet, I was so nervous that I could hardly summon up a thought, let alone a word.

Don’t just stand there, you silly girl, I told myself. Do something.

I bit my lip and blinked up at him.

Driven by desire and instinct alone, I threw off the blankets he’d wrapped me in. As I took hold of the hem of my nightdress, he gave me a warning glare to say watch it. But I felt no fear from him, no danger.

I felt nothing but heat and want.

Emboldened by that look in his eye, I slowly dragged the hem of the nightdress up, from my knees, over my thighs, until it barely hid my secret lips.

Do I dare?

I felt almost childlike there, dressed like that, with him so brawny and burly in his heavy, rugged clothes. All felted wool and leather.

I felt one last flicker of doubt, that is, until on a single deep breath, I dragged the nightdress up over my head and dropped it to the floor then reached down and removed my wet slippers.

I then stood, tall and proud, naked before him.

“Fuck,” he growled, sounding irritated with me, frustrated by me.

A rush of warmth invaded my muscles, my bones, my very being. I felt so powerful.

Rarely in my life had I felt like a princess at all. But, standing before him, he made me feel every inch the princess at last. What irony—finding such power in vulnerability.

I raised up on my tiptoes and spun around for him, watching him watch me over my lifted shoulder. Then I raised my hands up above my head in a V, overlaying my fingertips, before sucking in a deep breath… and diving into the pool.