Blakeshire (Insight #9)(19)
“He never held me. Untouched,” I said just under my breath, feeling both instant joy and anger surfacing within Drake. He was happy I was faithful to his memory but furious that he could not say the same, at least not about his past lives.
“I don’t play games, Drake. I may like a mystery, a bit of wit, but I do not play games.”
His eyes moved rapidly across me. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath.
“For?” I breathed, feeling how sorry he really was deep in my soul. I felt sick. I’d pushed him too far; he was telling me that whatever this was had to end.
“For testing you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling utter relief. I had to learn to shut up. Not to nag on old arguments. Guilt absorbed me. I was the one that tested him, in every way.
“If I’m going with you, I need to get dressed,” I said as I opened my eyes and nodded for him to leave.
He stepped back and leaned against the vanity before crossing his arms.
“Seriously?”
A sinful smile echoed on his lips as he turned his head away.
He wanted to play? Fine, let’s play. When you don’t have fear, you develop nerve.
Slowly, I let my towel fall. I grinned on the inside when I saw him tense and heat come to his stoic, blank expression. The room was submerged in the scent of roses; it was intoxicating to my soul.
With more care and ease than I should have had, I dressed in the dark jeans and tank top that I had brought into the bathroom with me. I acted like he wasn’t even there when I brushed out my hair and started to pull the long dark strands into a French twist, so that I would in some way match the formal world he was asking me to step into.
“Leave it down,” he said under his breath.
I ignored him and pulled it tightly into place. Just as I put the last pin in the twist, he moved so he was standing behind me. I stared at his dark, taunting eyes next to my reflection, wondering how bad it irritated him that I didn’t listen to him.
“What’s wrong, Drake? Do I look too proper for you? Do I look too different from Willow now?” I asked slyly. Dammit, I did it again. I needed to learn to shut up.
That comment only intensified the anger I could feel from him.
He stepped forward so that his body was against mine. I held in the breath that wanted out as his hands clasped my waist. I felt his fingertips on the tender skin just beneath the rim of my jeans.
I saw that wicked grin that came to life right as I tensed. “No,” he murmured as his lips hovered just below my ear. Slowly, seductively he moved his lips so that they were touching my neck. Instant fire hotter than any lava ripped through me as a gasp left my lips and my head fell back, inviting him to continue his pursuit. He pulled me tightly against his firm body. Just when I was sure my knees would buckle, he stopped his tender kiss that had turned every inch of my skin crimson. “I just wanted to hinder this temptation for now.”
Damn. He matched my play.
As if he could read my thoughts, his grin grew. “I agree that games of the heart are fruitless," he said as he glanced over my reflection in the mirror, "but we can play these games. All. Night. Long.”
“Drake Blakeshire. You are dangerous,” I breathed.
“Perhaps,” he said under his breath as he grabbed my bag from the counter.
Chapter Four
Drake
I had to walk out of that bathroom before I let every raging emotion in my body take control. That woman was a drug to me. She brought out the king in me, that harsh tone I had been groomed to use, yet somehow she brought out the real me, too. My very aged soul.
Chrispin was in the doorway. He caught me slowly raking my hand over my face, trying to get control. I glanced to the direction of the bathroom that was through a small closet and decided I didn’t want anyone, at least not any male, near her. I ushered him out of the bedroom, finding my other brother Marc in the hall waiting on me.
Marc could be my twin in the right clothes. He was the oldest. In a very real sense, if any of the nonsense my mother was speaking about before were true, then Marc was the first born in the Blakeshire bloodline. He was the born king, and more often than not he had to play that role for me, and he hated every single second of it.
“Mom thinks you ran,” he said to me evenly.
“We couldn’t let that happen until I give her an heir, now could we?” I responded coldly.
Neither of my brothers seemed to have any idea about what I was talking about, so I dropped it. Our mother was an angel in their eyes. Mine, too, but I knew her. They only had very young memories of her, and the recent ones she had given them showed her as a grieving widow who was fighting for each of her sons’ happiness—which was true in its own way, but still. I was the only son she had sacrificed, so I had a right to be a little ticked off right now.
“You want to run, say the word. Maybe that will keep Landen and Willow here,” Marc chided.
I knew exactly why they wanted Landen to stick around here. It was a secret that two future kings had shared as lost boys long ago. Landen didn’t want his fate any more than I did. I would be damned if I would forsake the bond we had built years ago any more than I already had.
“You two think you can keep him here?”
They both looked away, knowing they couldn’t.
“I’m not running. I have earned a break. She comes first.”