Ira took a tentative step forward, and she knew he was afraid she would run. It was a legitimate concern. Even as she tried to say she wouldn't, she knew it was a lie.
“It works if you want it to,” he said.
She snorted and wrapped her arms around herself.
“The next in line for the throne can’t marry an orphaned servant,” she said.
Another step forward.
“Then I’ll abdicate to Gladys. She would do a better job anyway,” he said
“I hate court,” she said.
Another step.
“I assumed you’d want to be close to Blythe anyway, but I suspect Brielle and Lucien may have formed an attachment which may complicate living scenarios,” he said.
He was close to her now. If he reached out his arm, he would be touching her. Still, she didn’t step backwards. She didn’t run.
“If that’s true, Brielle has very bad taste in men,” Luci said.
Ira laughed, but it was tight, like pressure was building, holding his infectious laugh at bay.
The last step.
“Don’t run,” he whispered.
Midnight, but she wanted to. Almost as much as she wanted to reach out and touch him. It was a bloody war within her chest, but he’d long since grown on her. Much like Ivy that grows without invitation, covering everything it touches. So was Ira Vencia. He’d grown over her, and now she was covered.
“I’m scared,” she confessed.
He nodded, but slowly reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she forced them open, needing to see the sincerity in him. There it was, written like a book on the sunniest day, he only ever knew how to be himself.
“I don’t care where we live, I don’t care what titles we hold, I don’t care about anything as long as you don’t run. As long as you want this as much as I do.”
His fingers grazed her cheek, then trailed down to caress her mouth, sending a shiver down her spine. A want that was buried beneath everything else she was. Orphan. Servant. Friend. It was a pressure that begged her to add another title to her list. If only she were brave enough to take it.
“You are everything, Lucinda. I knew it from the moment I met you, and you accused me of lying before you asked if I was capable. I knew it when you challenged everything and anything and held your head high. Midnight, I even knew it when you threatened me over a piece of pie. I was dying trying to hold onto a promise I made to the wrong person. It’s you, and it’s been you from the beginning,” he said.
“Who announces an engagement without even proposing?” Luci whispered.
She loved being the reason his dimples returned. Being the reason for that smile that stopped her heart despite its intent to beat outside her chest. She loved the smell of cinnamon that radiated from him like a warm fall night by the fire.
“Someone who is very sure they’ve met the love of their life,” he said.
His lips were inches from hers, and she’d never hated a few inches of space as much as she did then.
“Arrogant,” she whispered.
He murmured a response, but it was lost in the gentle meeting of their lips. His were soft and hesitant while his hand wrapped around her cheek, warming her through. Luci didn’t know much, but she knew she liked how it felt. How right it was.
Parting her lips, she deepened the kiss, and he answered her without hesitation. His hand lowered to her neck while his thumb pushed up her jaw, forcing her to fall into him and give him more purchase of her lips. He kissed her like a man starved. Before she could think twice about it, her hands were tangled in his hair, and she was being kissed within an inch of her life.
His tongue slipped in her mouth, and a hunger that was foreign and demanding built where fear used to live. She gave him exactly what he pushed from her, and when he made a low throaty groan, she thought her stomach might implode from this need.
She broke the kiss to catch her breath, but he only gave her a moment’s respite, barely enough for one breath before he captured her lips again. It was everything, and she could no longer deny how much she wanted this. Wanted him. The prince who swept her off her feet from the first dance, even though she’d try to resist.
The smell of cinnamon grew, and jolts of energy pecked at her skin. It was easy to ignore it at first, but it quickly became insistent. Pulling away, Luci looked down and stared at what shouldn’t have existed. Blue shimmering trails peppered her skin before skittering away up the path towards the top of the mountain.