Page 111 of The Throne Seeker

The sea rider?

“That’s what everyone’s been calling you after what happened in the third challenge,” Grant whispered into her ear with a proud, informative voice.

“Don’t whisper in front of others, Grant. It’s rude! Please, come sit,” Lilly said, gesturing for Rose to sit down. “Your mother’s told us so much about you.”

It was an easy conversation. Grant’s parents were much more inviting than they’d been portrayed. His father was more of aserious man who didn’t say much. Lilly did most of the talking, taking what Rose hoped was a shine to her.

She was reminded that Grant was the second oldest of seven children—four boys and three girls. Their family owned multiple farms and a large trading company specializing in sheep. Rose also learned they funded a large portion of Cathan’s troops. His father explained the logistics to her and her mother, but much was lost on her. She forced herself to keep engaged, wanting to give her due diligence to Grant’s family.

Grant kept silent, though he watched her ever so closely as she spoke with his parents, making her cheeks warm.

Once lunch was over, her mother suggested they all walk around the grounds. His parents agreed, taking their leave of the grand hall.

It was warm and sunny outdoors. The heat was welcome on her bare shoulders and arms as her blue dress flowed elegantly behind her. She and Grant walked a few paces in front of their parents, giving them a chance to have time alone.

Even with their close chaperons, Grant didn’t bother to keep his distance. His hand glided smoothly into hers, bringing it to his lips and holding on to it as they walked.

Rose couldn’t help but feel a freedom growing within her, reveling in the knowledge no one was watching her. No one cared now whose hand she was holding. She was free to just… be.

“I think my parents might like you more than I do,” Grant said, glancing over his shoulder at them. “I knew my mother would adore you, but goodness, I’m not used to them liking my choices. I might have lied to you. You might just be the furthest thing from a red mark. It makes me uneasy. I’m nearly ready to toss you aside.”

A small, sheepish grin crossed her lips as she nudged her shoulder into his. “It is nice to have a mother like me for once.” Guilt hit her as soon as the words came out.

“She thinks you and I will give her beautiful grandchildren,” he said with an infectious grin.

Her breath caught; the thought of having children with him hadn’t even crossed her mind until now.

His smile widened at her expression. “Don’t worry.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I intend to keep you all to myself for alongwhile.”

She kept her eyes forward, brushing her hair back as heat crept into her cheeks—something that happened a lot around him.

They arrived at the base of a large tree that held a pair of swings hanging from a low, thick branch.

“Sit with me,” he requested, sitting in one of the swings.

She moved to sit on the other, but his hand shot out to her waist to stop her, drawing her close to him. “No, sitwithme,” he repeated with a smirk.

Her eyes flickered back to his parents, still a good distance away and engrossed in deep conversation, oblivious to the two wandering off. Rose looked back at his challenging eyes. Two could play this game. He clearly liked to make her blush.

So naturally, she wanted him to blush instead.

Knowing it was very unladylike, she pulled her long dress up, exposing her lean legs. Then, with one fluid motion, she reached for the swing ropes and pulled herself up to sit on his lap, placing her legs on either side to face him.

Grant’s hands went immediately to her hips to guide her, swallowing hard as he looked at her with dilated pupils. For once, she’d caught him off guard.

Good.

Once she was secure, her hands let go of the ropes as she placed her full weight on him, her arms snaking around his neck.

Grant recovered from the action as his green eyes sparkled like gems. “You keep surprising me, Rosalie Versalles,” he whispered, his smile fading into a serious expression.

She moved to get off him, having proved her point, but his hands tightened around her thighs. “Don’t you dare,” he said, trapping her on his lap.

Then his lips were on hers.

It was a slow-building kiss, a deep one. She was becoming more accustomed to them now, more familiar. She shifted her position on his lap to make herself more comfortable, and she swore she heard a rumble come from his throat.

She pulled away and was met with clouded eyes staring at her lips.