The Serpent Prince (Princes #3)(48)

“No, actually, I can’t.” He straightened and picked up the paring knife again. “If I touch you, I’m not certain I’ll be able to stop.” He bent and peered at the rose as he made another deliberate cut in the stem. “In fact, I’m fairly certain I won’t stop. I’d be intoxicated by your scent and the feel of your white, white skin.”

Lucy felt warmth in her cheeks. She doubted very much if her skin was so white right now. But he’d hardly touched her at all in Maiden Hill. Surely if he could restrain himself then, he could now. “I—”

“No.” He took a breath and shook his head as if clearing it. “I’d have you on your back, your skirts tossed around your shoulders like a common cull before I could think, be in you before I could reflect, and once started, I sure as hell wouldn’t stop before we’d both reached heaven itself. Maybe not even then.”

Lucy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Heaven itself . . .

He shut his eyes and groaned. “Jesus. I can’t believe I said that to you.”

“Well.” She cleared her throat. His words had made her feel shaky and hot. “Well. That’s certainly flattering.”

“Is it?” He glanced at her. He had spots of color high on his cheekbones. “I’m glad you’re taking your fiancé’s lack of control over his animal nature so well.”

Oh dear. “Maybe I should go.” She made to rise.

“No, stay with me, please. Just . . . just don’t come near me.”

“All right.” She sat back straight and folded her hands in her lap.

His mouth curled down at one corner. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I, you.”

They exchanged a smile before he hastily turned away again, but this time she knew the cause and was unperturbed. She watched him set aside the stem and pick up a pot that contained what looked like a small stump. The fountain laughed in the background, and the stars began to fill the sky above the dome.

“You never finished telling me about that fairy tale,” she said. “The Serpent Prince. I won’t be able to finish the illustrations if you don’t tell me the rest.”

“Have you been making illustrations?”

“Of course.”

“I can’t remember where I stopped.” He frowned over the ugly stump. “It’s been so long now.”

“I remember.” She settled her bottom more firmly on the stool. “Angelica had stolen the Serpent Prince’s skin and threatened to destroy it, but she relented and spared his life in the end.”

“Ah, yes.” He made a careful V-shaped cut in the top of the stump. “The Serpent Prince said to Angelica, ‘Fair maid, since you hold my skin, you hold my very life in your hands. You have but to name it and I will grant you a wish.’”

Lucy frowned. “He doesn’t sound very bright. Why does he not simply ask for his skin back without telling her what power she has over him?”

He shot a glance at her from under lowered brows. “Perhaps he was enthralled by her beauty?”

She snorted. “Not unless he was extremely dim.”

“Your romantic soul overwhelms me. Now will you let me continue?”

She clamped her mouth shut and nodded mutely.

“Good. It occurred to Angelica that here was a very lucky thing. Perhaps she could meet the prince of the land at last. So she said to the Serpent Prince, ‘There is a royal ball being held tonight. Can you take me to the ramparts of the castle so that I may see the prince and his entourage pass by?’ Well, the Serpent Prince looked at her out of his gleaming silver eyes and said, ‘I can do better than that, I assure you.’”

“But, wait,” Lucy interrupted. “Isn’t the Serpent Prince the hero of the story?”

“A snake-man?” Simon inserted the pointed end of the stick into the notch he’d made in the stump and began wrapping both with a narrow strip of cloth. “Whatever gave you the idea that he would make a good hero?”

“Well, he is all of silver, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but he is also quite nude, and usually the hero of the story has something more to his name.”

“But—”

He frowned censoriously at her. “Do you wish me to continue?”

“Yes,” she said meekly.

“Very well. The Serpent Prince waved one pale hand, and suddenly Angelica’s drab brown rags had turned to a shimmering dress of copper. In her hair were copper and ruby jewels and on her feet, embroidered copper slippers. Angelica twirled in a circle, delighted at her transformation, and she exclaimed, ‘Wait until Prince Rutherford sees me!’”

“Rutherford?” Lucy arched an eyebrow.

He stared at her sternly.

“Sorry.”

“Prince Rutherford, he of the curling golden hair. But the Serpent Prince did not reply, and only then did Angelica notice that he had sunk to his knees beside the brazier and that the blue-flamed fire within burned lower. For in giving the goat girl her wish, he had depleted his own power.”

“Silly man.”

He looked up and smiled at her and then seemed to notice the dark sky for the first time. “Good Lord, is it as late as that? Why didn’t you tell me? You need to return to Rosalind’s town house at once.”