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There weren’t enough hours in the day…that was the problem.
He came to the end of the long silken rug that lay on the parquet before the fireplace, turned around, and paced back to the other end of it.
There were other things that needed to be done too. Such as the clearing up of the palace. The King’s office hadn’t been vandalised, as the other rooms had, and it hadn’t taken more than half an hour for a couple of the palace cleaning staff to get it in order. Just as well. He needed a place to work with no distractions.
The room held an antique carved oak desk, a fireplace, oak bookshelves standing against the walls, and had a huge window behind the desk that looked out over the crags of the mountains that surrounded Kasimir.
A utilitarian room, with very little in the way of frills, but it suited his soldier’s temperament.
He came to the other end of the rug, turned, and paced back once more.
Then there was the other question. The one he’d been trying not to think about all day and yet had pushed to the front of his thoughts far more often than he’d wanted it to.
The little Accorsi. The mouse who was clearly not a mouse—as she’d demonstrated so admirably this morning.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the unexpected fury in her eyes when he’d confronted her about escaping. Or about how she’d shoved herself off the window seat to stand before him, curls spilling everywhere, dust on her cheek and anger blazing in her deep blue eyes.
Panic attacks, she’d said. Bad memories, she’d said. That was why she’d escaped from the royal apartments and into the hidden corridors.
Tiberius turned once more and paced another circuit in front of the fire.
Then the look in her eyes had changed…blue becoming violet as something hot and electric had arced between them.
She hadn’t been a beaten dog or a mouse then.
She’d been a woman.
He gritted his teeth, his muscles tightening once more in response to the memory.
Yes, he couldn’t deny it. The way she’d stood up to him, the way she’d blazed defiance at him and then the way her eyes had darkened had been…exciting. It had been obvious to him that she’d felt the same electricity, and with her standing so close, all spirit and fire, he’d had the almost overwhelming urge to take that sharp little chin in one hand and cover her mouth with his, taste all that fire for himself.
You could. She’s your wife. You could make her yours in every way. You could make her want you…crave you. Put her on her knees before you. That would be a fitting revenge for what the Accorsis did to your country…
A growl escaped him as all the blood in his body rushed below his belt. Yes, Renzo Accorsi’s forgotten daughter on her knees, naked before him… She’d have all those pretty curls loose, giving him something to hold on to as he defiled all that innocence, all that sweetness—
No.No.Why was he thinking of this again? He’d dismissed those base thoughts this morning, back in that little library, so why they should be returning again he had no idea.
He wasn’t that type of man. He was a king. And a king didn’t indulge in anything as petty as revenge—still less with some innocent.
Perhaps she’s not innocent?
Perhaps so. But still their marriage was for Kasimir only, and that did not involve anything physical. Besides, he preferred women less fragile, women who liked their sex hard and rough, and the little Accorsi was definitely not a hard and rough type of woman. She’d mentioned panic attacks, for God’s sake, and she’d certainly been terrified of him, which rendered her immediately off-limits.
So no, even if she hadn’t been an Accorsi he wouldn’t have touched her.
And as for this…chemistry. Well, he’d ignore it. Physical attraction was easy to control—and besides, if it proved too distracting he’d find himself one of those women who liked it rough. It didn’t need to be his new wife.
Speaking of…
He stopped pacing for a moment and glanced at his watch. He’d sent her a message earlier that afternoon, instructing her to present herself in his office at six p.m. sharp. Dinner would be served and they would discuss their little…arrangement.
It was now five minutes past six and she was not here.
His restlessness intensified, eating at him, and he broke from his pacing, headed over to the door, intending to go and find her. He pulled it open only to see her standing on the other side of the doorway, her hand raised to knock.
Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and much to his annoyance he found himself staring at it. Because it was a pretty mouth. He could think of many things he could do with that mouth…
Another growl almost escaped him at his own wayward thoughts, but he managed to wrestle them into submission.