The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(57)

The heart of my future king rests in my palms. Mine to hurt, or mine to heal.

Ellie closed her eyes. “I can’t be that selfish.”

“What do you mean?” His gruff voice whispered across the sensitive skin of her neck. The quick brush of his lips followed.

“If I were to admit my feelings, admit my love, my desires…what kind of queen would I make when all I want to do is be with you? Damn the kingdom. Damn the responsibilities.”

A baritone laugh reverberated off the library walls.

She opened her eyes on a confused scowl.

Gerard was bent over in mirth. “Oh, my dear,” he finally managed. “The same kind of king as I.”

“Huh?” She shrugged, unsure if she understood.

“What kind of king will I make when all I want is to be with you?”

“Some pair we’d be.” She stuck out her tongue and accepted Gerard’s embrace. She rested her cheek against his strong chest, listening to the heartbeat within, matching her own frantic pace.

“I think we’ll be fine, my dear. Great teams accomplish the hardest of tasks. And besides, if I don’t marry you, the entire kingdom is likely to disown me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked and burrowed deeper into his arms. Male warmth eclipsed the cold sweat of her dissipated anger.

“Oh, love, the crowd gasped and adored you when I danced with you during The Ball. They cheered only for you while you fought tonight. Only for you. Always for you.” Gerard kissed her forehead. “And, my love, I did the same.”

“It sounds like you’ve already made your decision.” She craned her neck to catch his gaze. “Does it matter if I don’t want to be queen?”

“Of course it matters, Ellie.” Gerard smiled, a feral gleam in his eyes. “Despite your reticence, you will make a great queen. The entire kingdom and I are looking forward to convincing you for the rest of your life.”

She shook her head on a wry grin. “It has to be my decision, Gerard.”

“As if I ever possessed the power to change your mind.” He gently chucked her under the chin. “You stubborn, independent vixen. I love you, as a man, as a prince, as your future king.”

Tingling joy bit into her skin like the battering of butterfly wings—it scraped, slid, feathered.

Gerard dropped to one knee, hands holding her fingers in a tight grip. “I can’t promise you constant happiness, or a perfect life without stress. But I can promise to do my best to make you happy, and to remind you every day that I love you.”

“As a man, as a prince, as my king…,” Ellie finished. A lone tear, bittersweet and salty, trailed down her cheek. “Fruitcake.”

“Was that a yes?” He beamed. “Will you marry me, Elizaveta?”

Heart soaring, she managed a nod as another happy tear escaped. “Yes, yes, of course, yes. I love you.”

Firm lips met hers and Gerard pushed her bodily into the settee. The kiss should have been sweet but it wasn’t, and she smiled as she moved her mouth against his. This pressing of lips was savage.

She couldn’t breathe and she didn’t want to. She needed to feel this heat. This yearning. This insistence for more.

Her fingers twined in his dark hair. Tugged him closer. “Yes,” she gasped as Gerard trailed his lips from her mouth, along her cheek, to that sensitive place behind her ear.

He pulled back, grinning. Eyes alight with mischief. They panted.

“Up.” He stood and dragged her with him. “We’re getting married now.”

“Now? But I was enjoying that.”

“Oh, I was too.” He elbowed his way out of the library and down the hall.

“Then why did we stop?”

Gerard laughed. “Because had it gone on any longer, I wouldn’t have been able to stop and I’d rather make an honest pair out of the two of us first. Plus, my bed’s softer than that settee and I plan on wearing you out.”

Desire flipped her stomach and clenched her bare toes against the cool wood floor.

His words dripped through her like molten lava. Gerard. Bed. Me. Us. Together. Not stopping… She shivered. Excited. The town square bell tower chimed out eleven bells.

“It’s late, no one will be up.”

He halted so fast she ran into his firm backside. Her palms lingered on the muscles there.

“We’ll wake them.” Gerard yanked a corded rope hanging outside a servant’s door.

A sleepy raven-haired man poked his head out.

“Yes?” His eyes widened upon realizing the prince stood outside his door. “Oh, Your Highness, what can I do for you at this hour? Has something happened?” The man, a butler if Ellie’s guess was right, shoved his sleeping tunic into untied black trews and made quick work of slicking back his hair.

She held in a giggle.

“James, we’re getting married. Right now.” Gerard tucked Ellie into his side, a goofy smile tilting his lips.

“Right, of course. I’ll set about readying the chapel.” Straight-faced and in fine butler form, James didn’t blink at Gerard’s statement. “Oh, a healer intercepted your parents as they were retiring.”

“Yes?” Gerard asked.

“The hex victims have made a miraculous recovery,” James said blandly, though a small smile lifted the corners of his thin moustache.