A Vow Of Hate

When the orchestra started playing something different, a waltz tune, my eyes widened and I grasped for Gracelynn’s elbow. She went rigid too as we watched a few people move toward the center of the room, for a couple dance.

From my peripheral vision, I watched Killian stride toward Gracelynn and I.

“He’s coming,” I hissed to my sister. “I think he’s going to ask me for a dance. Do something!”

William Spencer and my father were watching us carefully, pride shining in their eyes. There was more attention on us now when the guests noticed Killian coming toward the Romano sisters.

As Killian approached us, coming toward me – Gracelynn quickly sidestepped into his path, halting him. She smiled, her hand fluttering to his chest. “I think you owe me a dance, Killian.”

“I do?” Killian muttered in a tight voice.

Her eyes widened with feigned innocence and even I was fooled to almost believe that her smile was real. “Of course, you do.” Her voice softened to a low whisper, only loud enough for me and Killian to hear. “If you think you can waltz my sister away so easily, think again. You have to work for it.”

Killian made an impatient sound in the back of his throat but nodded nonetheless. Gracelynn wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow. My fiancé gave me a look filled with longing, before guiding my sister toward the rest of the waltzing couples.

I grabbed a glass of fruit punch off a server’s tray and watched Killian and my sister dance. To an outsider, they looked like a normal couple. Gracelynn fluttered her lashes up at Killian and her pretty smile never wavered. She was a good actress; I had to give it to her.

I peeked at my father and saw him nodding approvingly, looking quite pleased at the sight of Gracelynn and Killian dancing.

She successfully convinced Killian to dance two songs. Afterward, he guided Gracelynn back to where I was standing.

My sister appeared flustered, showing the guests just how amorous and captivated she was by her fiancé, while Killian’s attention was solely on me.

“Dance with me,” he said in a low voice, loud enough for my ears only. I swallowed, my eyes darting to his outstretched hand and back to his handsome, sculptured face.

“Are you asking or telling me?” I whispered.

His dark eyes flared. “May I have this dance, Princess?”

I nodded, while handing my glass to my sister, and Killian grasped my hand in his.

Once we were in the middle of the dance floor, his hand curled around my waist. Since my gown was backless, it was skin to skin. His callous fingers brushed along the curve of my back, my bare skin erupting with goosebumps at his teasing touch. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

My left hand went to his shoulder and he grasped my right one in his. The orchestra began a new song, and Killian guided me through the rhythm. It wasn’t a waltz, but it was a slow dance.

“You look enticing tonight,” he said, the rough timbre of his voice caressing my skin. “I’m more than pleased that you didn’t braid or put your hair up in a bun.”

I had kept my hair down, in soft waves, the way Killian liked it. The only thing fancy I did with it, was my hair being pearl-speckled – the tiny pearls woven and scattered into the platinum strands of my hair.

I matched Killian’s pace, making sure I didn’t step on his foot. “I wanted to wear a red dress, but then I thought it would be too bold.”

“You made the right choice, because if you had worn a red dress – I would have defiled you right there behind a pillar.”

“Maybe another time,” I breathed.

“Indeed,” Killian rasped. “Patience is a virtue, but mine has been stretched thin. I throb for you, Princess.”

He pulled me closer, so that our bodies were touching – so close, I could feel his breath fanning against my cheeks and his…

Oh.

Is that –

His erection pressed into my stomach and I stumbled, my heels catching the back of my dress. That was what Killian meant when he said he throbbed for me.

His arm tightened around my waist as he helped me regain my footing before I could further embarrass myself.

“You – I mean,” I stuttered before clearing my throat. “Your courting gifts were very thoughtful, Killian. But I truly feel like you shouldn’t have–”

“You’re worth it,” Killian said, cutting through my useless rant. “And as for my gift… well, you’ll be giving me something on our wedding night, alright. I can be… patient until then.”

It was then I realized that he was responding to my last letter.

“That’s very gentlemanly of you, Mr. Spencer.”

“You won’t be calling me a gentleman when I’m between your thighs and taking what belongs to me, Miss Romano,” he said, in a gravelly calm tone.