Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,7

gaze rove casually over her fae-like features, just as she had slowly and methodically categorized his own a few moments before.

She liked what she’d seen of him, that much was clear, though her eyes hadn’t dared to stray from his face.

She found him…attractive.

Even though his height, size and strength intimidated her. He could see that as well. The spike in her temperature, the flush in her fine, porcelain skin, the dilation of her pupils, and the agitated huffs of her quickened breaths told him so.

He might even venture to say that she found him frightening and arousing. Or frighteningly arousing.

This bit of knowledge he took in stride.

Most females, no matter their Kind, found him pleasing to look upon. Even more females found him desirable to rut upon. And all females, with the exception of either the very brave or the very stupid, knew instinctually that he was not a male to ever cross.

He used his sexual hold over others as a distinct advantage. Now, he just had to figure out how to use it to his maximum benefit with this particular female.

She was small, barely over five feet and gracefully curved, as a woman should be, though understatedly so.

Everything about her was soft-looking. Her dark auburn, wavy tresses that glinted bronze in the fire-lit cabin framed her face lovingly like caressing hands. Her skin was flawlessly smooth, sprinkled liberally, but not excessively, with freckles—on her bare arms, upper chest, and blushing cheeks.

Her generous, full, red lips (still slightly pursed in an O) pouted just so beneath a small, button nose. Along with her eyes, they took up most of her face, and were the most prominent features on a delectable, creamy palette. Her pointy chin gave her an elfin look, as did the slightly tilted corners of her long-lashed eyes.

Hers was an unpretentious beauty, especially since she did nothing to emphasize it. She wore no enhancements upon her skin or face, and the clothes she donned were made for comfort, not ostentation. She didn’t need it. She was quite remarkably lovely.

Unfortunately, Ramses had to admit: He was attracted as well.

She stirred… something inside him.

He didn’t like it.

This mutual awareness and attraction put them on a more equal footing. How to make the scales tip back in his favor? And by a landslide?

All these considerations churned through his busy mind in the brief moments he took to assess her.

And then he recognized who she was.

Eveline Marceau, if he wasn’t mistaken. The Seer and Scribe of the Pure Ones. A member of the Pure Queen’s inner circle.

Though they’d never met, he made it his business to know all about his enemies, as well as his supposed allies. He had reams of documentation on all of the Royal Zodiac, including video surveillance footage.

There were only a few blurry pictures in his file about Ms. Marceau, for she seldom ventured out in public. But those photos and detailed descriptions about her were enough to confirm her identity.

Ramses never forgot a face. And hers was distinctly memorable.

He wondered how long he could get away with pretending to not know who she was, and have a little fun in the process.

“You’re the Dark King Ramses,” the little fairy suddenly declared, the sound of her crisp, bell-like voice straightening his spine in attention.

“I’m Eveline Marceau, one of Queen Sophia’s Circlet members. Thank goodness it’s you. Now we can clear this all up, and I can return home.”

So much for pretending not to know her identity.

Ramses sighed internally at the loss of his little game. It would have been an entertaining diversion after a long, tedious night.

“You are correct, little sprite,” he said slowly, his mind efficiently calculating his options with this new news, “I am who I am, and you are who you are. But…”

“I’m not a little sprite,” she pointed out quite firmly, before prompting, “But?”

Her sleek brows raised aloft in question.

Ramses almost quirked his lips in amusement.

Why did she bother to gainsay him? He’d call her whatever damn name he chose, though he didn’t state this aloud.

“But that doesn’t mean you can return home,” he answered instead.

She blinked rapidly, clearly not comprehending.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked in that same calm, reasonable voice, not at all appreciating the precariousness of her predicament.

“We have an alliance between us,” she reminded him. “Friends do not detain friends without their permission.”

Ramses took a small step closer to her, and she took a large step back.

Was the fairy more afraid of him than attracted?

But no.

Her clear eyes showed no