Page 9 of Fae-King It (Mystical Matchmakers #5)
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dominique was left to her own devices all day long. Any other time, she would have been angry that she took time off work to be there. But, after meeting Ronan’s parents, she understood now why he’d said what he had in the truck that morning.
He thought she was like his parents. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Dominique recognized that his parents were manipulative, and their behaviors were dictated by their desire for power. She didn’t give a damn about power. She merely wanted to survive her own family. The only way to do that was to shut down.
She couldn’t explain all of that to him, not without revealing too much of herself, so she hadn’t bothered trying.
With all of that on her mind, Dominique wandered through the castle and found herself downstairs near the kitchens. When she stepped inside, everyone stopped dead, looking straight at her. Obviously, news of her arrival had spread through the castle like wildfire.
Uncomfortable, she started to turn and leave, but her stomach growled loudly.
A young fae male came over to her. “Ms. Proxa, let us serve you some lunch. Please come sit.”
He guided her to what appeared to be the staff dining table, pulling her chair out for her. She didn’t bother to say she wasn’t hungry because it would have been an obvious lie.
Dominique watched as everyone moved around the kitchen, each doing separate tasks. The young male was clearly making her lunch, but others were obviously prepping for dinner later. Several of the kitchen staff kept glancing at her, and Dominique knew they wanted to ask her for help. The services of fairy godmothers were often reserved for the upper classes and nobility in Magic, but some fairy godmothers dedicated a small amount of time each month to those who served the wealthy or weren’t rich themselves.
As she watched them and saw the hope in their eyes, Dominique decided she would do what she could to aid them this weekend. It hurt her heart to see so many fae desperate for a partner. For someone to love them.
Often, the lower classes in the fae realm never got the chance to even see a fairy godmother, much less consult with one. Sometimes, they were lucky enough to find their mates, but oftentimes they weren’t.
That was another reason she’d left Magic. She believed all supernaturals deserved to find love, whether they were considered “undesirable” or not. It used to upset her when her mother and sisters dismissed the brownies, house elves, and other lower forms of fae when they asked help. Even if they offered up their hard-earned gold, they were often turned away.
Dominique ate a delicious lunch and let the kitchen staff know that she would be back in the morning to speak to anyone who wished for her help. Judging from their smiles, most of them would be there.
She returned to her room and stretched out on the bed. The Lake room seemed to be named specifically because of the gorgeous mural painted along the wall behind the bed. It depicted a peaceful lake at sunset. The light of the fading sun in the painting seemed to glow. The furnishings throughout the room echoed the colors of the mural. Restful blues and greens were accented with lavender, yellow, and warm peach. The illusion of being at a secluded lake was so complete that Dominique could almost feel the breeze on her skin and hear the water lap at the shores of the lake.
Feeling calmer than she had in the past week, Dominique’s eyes grew heavy. Since the day Ronan walked into her office, she hadn’t been sleeping well. A nap seemed like just the thing. Especially since she hadn’t brought her laptop with her. There wasn’t much else to do.
Setting her phone alarm for five p.m., she turned on her side and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, she almost swore she could feel the sun warming her skin.
Her sleep was so deep and restful that when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t even sure if it was day or night. She picked up her phone and released a small shriek. It was nearly five-forty-five.
In a flurry of motion, she jumped off the bed and dashed into the bathroom to turn on the shower. It normally didn’t take her long to get ready for events, but the expectations at fae court were different than in the human realm.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Dominique was still in her underwear. Her makeup was done, as was her hair, but she couldn’t find the shoes she’d packed to match her dress. The brownies had unpacked for her, and everything was exactly where it should be. Except for her damned shoes.
The wardrobe had a row of shelves for footwear, but none of them contained the ones she needed. With a sigh, she shoved some of her clothes out of the way and noticed a gleam at the bottom of the wardrobe. She leaned down, and sure enough, her shoes must have fallen off the shelves. Leaning over further, she snagged them off the floor and straightened.
Right into a long, hard body just behind her.
Large hands clamped down on her hips, heat seeping into her skin from everywhere he touched her.
“You’re not dressed,” Ronan said. The words were barely more than a rumble.
Dominique couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her, even though she fought it hard. Ronan’s hands seemed even hotter as the tips of his fingers dug into her flesh. He stepped even closer, surrounding her with his heat, and she shivered again.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked, trying to ignore the breathy sound of her voice. “And why didn’t you knock?”
His warm breath fanned her bare shoulder when he answered, “I did knock. When you didn’t answer, I thought you made a run for it and came through the connecting door.”
‘Connecting door?” she asked.
Distracted by his words, she didn’t consider her actions as she turned around. It was a mistake because Ronan’s eyes immediately moved from her face down over the rest of her body, clad only in the brief undergarments she wore. His eyes came to hers again, his pupils expanding as they stared at each other.
“Your room is next to mine. It’s customary to place the heir’s fiancée close by when they come to stay at the palace. While decorum requires separate rooms, our ancestors weren’t stupid enough to think that betrothed couples weren’t finding every chance they could to fuck, so they did what they could to minimize the chances of scandal when the couple snuck into each other’s rooms at night.”
Dominique refused to outwardly react to his words, but heat burst low in her pelvis at the idea of Ronan creeping into her room tonight and fucking her until she couldn’t move.
No. She wouldn’t do this to herself. She wasn’t even going to consider Ronan as a sexual partner. They didn’t even like each other. It would end in nothing but trouble.
She stepped to the side, skirting around him, and walked over to the bed. Tossing her shoes on the padded bench at the foot of the mattress, Dominique scooped up her dress and slipped it on. Before she could reach back to zip it, Ronan was there, his long fingers brushing hers aside.
Once the zipper was pulled up, he didn’t move away. He trailed a finger along the low back of her dress, tracing the vee shape. Goose bumps ran down her arms and legs. Mentally, she cursed her body’s reaction to him, but it was completely out of her control.
All her life, she’d worked hard to master her body and mind, to control the way she portrayed herself to the world. Yet here she was, coming undone at the touch of a single finger on her back.
She glanced at her gold watch. “We’re going to be late.”
His finger didn’t stop moving, dragging a line from the bottom of the vee up her spine to stop just between her shoulder blades. With her hair pinned up, the skin of her back suddenly felt very, very naked.
“Ronan,” she said.
“What?”
“We’re going to be late.”
He sighed, finally removing his finger from her back. “Are you ready?”
“I only need to put on my shoes.”
Dominique did her best to ignore his presence as she sat on the padded bench and slipped her feet into the nude stilettos she brought. They were a series of slender, shimmering straps that very nearly matched her skin tone.
Her dress was a bright teal, the blue-green color bringing out the color of her eyes and the golden hues in her skin and hair. The tight bodice clung to her upper body, the deep vee in the back offset by another vee in the front. The shiny, snug fabric had a wide pleated waist and gave way to a filmy light skirt that floated around her legs. When she walked, the wrap-style skirt split and bared most of one thigh. Her only jewelry was the aquamarine engagement ring and a pair of dangle earrings, a single chain with a freshwater pearl attached to the end.
She didn’t bother to ask him if she looked okay because she knew he wouldn’t give her an honest answer. At least not at the moment.
Ronan was staring at her as though she’d screwed up his entire life.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Yes.”
“Then, let’s go.”