and place would have held a grin. “Looks like they’ve seen better days.”
“They’ve seen plenty of days,” she said about the scratched and nicked metal. “Not sure I’d call them better.”
His attention fixed on her. “These even legal here?”
Eyes on the weapon, she gave a small shake of her head. Brass knuckles had been illegal in Kiraly her entire life—but the law couldn’t keep a young woman safe in the fierce reality of a violent moment. That, she’d had to do herself.
Kris’s frown was loaded with questions.
“Laws are cultural myths.” She raised a shoulder. “To work, they require enough people around you to believe in them.”
Concern bloomed in his blue gaze. He drew the knuckles off his fingers and set them back on the table with a light clunk. “What was life like for you here, Frankie?”
“I—”
It was with a sudden and sharp puncture high in her heart that she feared honesty, not lies, might be the only way out of this mess.
“I might tell you one day,” she muttered.
“Sit with me,” he said again, more firmly.
Giving in, she moved to sit on the coffee table opposite him. If he brought his spread legs together, they’d press against the outside of her knees, trapping her inside his borders. Physical awareness of him snaked through her, a faded shadow of itself, too tired and battered to tie her in knots, but there just the same.
He extended the bag. Silently, she reached in and took a handful.
“Nice room.” He spoke without taking his eyes off her. “Better than the dump over Rose’s Diner.”
“Hey.” She piled several nuts into her mouth. Roasted and salted. Delicious. “I liked it there. The mold in the bathroom was sentient. We had conversations.”
“It was disgusting.”
“It was as close to you as I could afford,” she said.
He frowned a little. “Don’t royal guards get paid enough?”
She winced, but didn’t answer.
“You can’t even answer that honestly?” he asked in insulted disbelief.
“No, it’s just—” She sighed. “King Vinci didn’t want any resources spent on your dad or his family, okay? No allowance. No staff. Not even basic security or monitoring. As far as your uncle was concerned, the day Erik left Kiraly, he was on his own. Philip couldn’t have me on the books as a royal guard in Sage Haven, so he found a way to pay me to gather information on political figures instead.”
“That’s what you did when you left on private investigations?”
She nodded. “And the bouncer work helped cover the rest.”
“So.” Kris was still frowning at her. “You stayed to watch over us even though you weren’t properly paid for it?”
“I guess.” She hesitated, skin prickling at what she’d given away. “Philip promised me a role in the palace when I got back, but I wanted some experience. And I figured if I could track you boys down, someone else could, too. So it wasn’t, you know, just because of . . .”
You.
Shit.
He didn’t answer. Just scanned her face, expression serious. She braced for a comment she wouldn’t be able to handle.
But all he said was, “Your mascara’s smudged.”
“I had a shower—”
In a single, fluid movement, he’d licked his thumb and placed it beneath her right eye, the contact as gentle as it was startling.
With a delicious thrum, her body tightened.
He adjusted, leaning forward, his careful attention set just beneath her gaze. Scared to breathe, to do anything that would remind him of who she really was, she held still, her cheek tingling, aching as the rest of his hand hovered just out of range. Another moment for her collection—alone with him, but unable to enjoy the wonder of his intimacy for fear of losing her head.
“You been crying over me?” he murmured as he smoothed the makeup away. If he intended it as a joke, his tone completely missed the mark.
Always.
His touch ruined her—for something so light, brushing against the outskirts of her body, it felt like playing out a thousand heartbreaking moments at once. It was the kind of contact that broke the sky and put a stutter in the pulse of the earth. Then with another soft swipe, put it all back together again.
He stilled the instant he collected her tear on his thumb.
“Frankie,” he breathed.
She blinked, refusing to meet his shocked gaze. She was too tired to miss him this much and have him this close.
“You were lying,” he said, and shifted his thumb to her left side. Used the damp of her tear to clear the stain from her skin. “When you