The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(86)

Esha’s eyes weren’t avoiding him now. They stared him down. “It brings me that much closer to killing Vardaan and avenging my family.”

She glanced away for a second before pulling the full weight of her gaze back to him.

“And you, Kunal. You could help us, if you stayed . . .”

Kunal paused and glanced back at Esha, unsure what to say.

Before he could answer, she grabbed his head and tugged his lips down on hers.

Kunal was so surprised it took him a few seconds to realize that she—Esha—was kissing him, but once it wore off he wrapped her in his arms. He could feel the promise of their kiss in his blood, as if it was answering some unspoken question for them both.

And he wanted more. He drew her in closer until there was no air between them, the crisp silk of her sari crumpling like fine paper.

Weeks. He had been wanting this for weeks. He captured her lips again with ferocity, his hands sliding against her bare skin at the edge of her blouse, his fingers grazing the metal hooks as they moved closer to the bed. Her fingers threaded through his hair, sending shivers down his body, causing him to pause, to glance up at her. Her eyes were dark, hungry, and in that moment, he knew she was feeling the same as him.

He bent his head, brushing his lips against the hollow of her throat, bringing back memories of the alleyway when without warning, she shoved him away.

Esha scampered quickly across the room, putting distance between them just as the door opened and a maid bustled in. The maid started when she caught sight of Kunal but said nothing, turning her head to the side as she scurried past him toward Esha.

Kunal was almost glad for the interruption. He didn’t have an answer for her.

He slipped out the door, casting one last look at Esha before he left. She was sitting at her dresser, combing through her hair, resolutely looking at the mirror in front of her.

Their eyes caught through the silvery glass and Kunal swallowed hard, knowing that a dam had been broken.

He didn’t know if either of them would be able to deal with the onslaught.

She had kissed him to shut him up—before he said something that couldn’t be taken back. Of course he wouldn’t have an answer for her. It was stupid to have asked and she had realized it instantly when she saw the indecision on Kunal’s face.

Her brilliant plan had been to kiss him.

It had been entirely the wrong thing to do. His lips hadn’t left her mind since then.

Esha padded along the smooth floor, taking care not to fall in her silk slippers. Silk was a better choice for sneaking around in this cursed palace than leather, which squeaked more than pig boy did. But silk was slippery and more than once Harun had smirked at her at their morning meal, knowing the new bruises on her elbows were a result of her night excursions.

But she had gotten good at sneaking around this palace, and she also knew the easiest way into Harun’s bedroom. Esha tightened her grasp on her whip, clenching her jaw.

She hadn’t forgotten what had happened at the performance.

Esha hurried down the last corridor, pushing a small doorway to open up the passageway Harun had once shown her. She vanished into its darkness, feeling with her hands until she got to that sharp, rectangular stone. Pushing it, another door swung open and Esha slid out, brushing off her hair and clothes.

She snapped her whip taut between her hands, cracking her neck as she moved closer to the giant bed in the corner of the room. It was a monstrosity, or that was what she always told Harun. Who needed a bed big enough for three people?

His only response was to wink at her whenever she mentioned it.

She moved like a whisper, ignoring the softly spoken “Esha?” that emanated from the bed. Within seconds, she had the prince in her grasp, her whip wrapped around his throat and her lips at his ear.

“You don’t own me, Harun, and you do not get to pet me in front of the courtiers.”

She pulled the whip tighter around his neck, applying the right amount of pressure to make him wheeze but not to incapacitate. She wanted his response.

“And you brought Kunal. You brought him to throw me off my performance and undermine me. You made a power play against me, Harun. That’s a dangerous game to start. We’re supposed to be in this together.” Her voice became cold as steel as she shook her head.

Harun’s eyes darkened in displeasure.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I will hurt you, even if you are my prince,” she finished, her mouth a grim but set line.

He continued looking at her, his gaze growing deeper and making her blood warm. A smirk curved his lips.

“No, you won’t,” he managed to cough out.

Esha scoffed. “The Blades will still follow me without you. They like me better anyway.”

“Glad to hear you’ve thought about that. But that’s not it.” He licked his lips. “You like me.”

She raised an eyebrow at his words but let the whip slip a bit, revealing a red welt across his throat. He lifted a hand to it, rubbing the spot where the whip had been.

“You like how I make you feel,” he continued. She blinked, trying to ignore the rising heat in her belly.

Curses. He didn’t seem to care that she still had a noose around his neck. Maybe she should remind him of it.

Esha moved to tighten the noose when Harun’s hand shot out, dragging her closer to him. The whip still hung around his neck but he had gotten Esha tangled up in the rest of its length so that they were looped together. His dark, thickly lashed eyes became heavy lidded, and the look he was giving her chilled and fired her up inside. Her body leaned in for a second, used to his touch, before she snapped back to reality.