Royal Surrender - chapter seven

For a moment even the air between them seemed charged, electric.

Something almost too large to comprehend yawned open inside of Noe, though whether it was a kind of grief or a glorious wanting, she could hardly say.

She was a bit afraid that it was both.

And that she would never be free of either.

He looked at her for a long moment, those amber eyes of his seeming to take in every last bit of her. Seeming to see straight through to her bones.

Noe discovered that she was holding her breath, but knowing it didn’t make her any more able to breathe normally.

Cajetan stood, but he didn’t move to her as she expected. That was a surprise, so much so that she started to feel a little bit dizzy until she found her way back to her breath.

Then, it was clear, that the dizziness was simply the fact of Cajetan. That magnetism of him and his perfect physique right here, on display, in this private room.

And while she was wrestling with all that, Cajetan moved to the corner and fiddled with the music that was playing gently in the background. He made it louder. And then he came to her, stood by the side of her chair, and held out his hand.

Noe stared up at him, understanding for the first time in her life that it really was possible for her heart to lodge itself in her throat.

“Dance with me,” Cajetan said huskily. And his lips curved, sending warmth and something sharper flooding through her.

Suddenly, Noe wondered if it wasn’t passion that she lacked, but that all this time she’d suffered from a simple lack of interest in the men around her. Because none of them were him, nor ever could be.

She slid her hand into his and let him draw her to her feet.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

“You are a prince,” she said, and it was a struggle to keep her voice light. “Surely you must be knee-deep in beautiful women at all times, as part and parcel of your birthright.”

“I cannot recall a single face,” he said, and even Noe knew that was a line.

But somehow, when Cajetan said it, that look on his face, she believed him.

And when he swept her into his arms, it was as if they became, together, the music itself.

His body and her body fit together perfectly, like missing pieces finally making sense. And when he moved, she felt graceful and sensual for the first time in her life.

Dancing with him, around and around the table here with his bright eyes all over her and his hand a warm encouragement at her back, felt like flying.

So when he dipped her, she simply trusted that he would keep her from falling.

And he did.

When he lifted her back up, their eyes met. And held.

The music changed, and so too the mood.

And when Cajetan bent his head to take her mouth with his, he tasted like magic.