Pure Destiny (PureDark Ones #12) - Aja James Page 0,48

coarse manners. Even though she was secretly thrilled he wasn’t the polished poppycock she’d been led to believe.

Pushing the boundaries of civility, she’d goaded him, interrogated him, tried to make him make a mistake that would lower him somehow in her eyes. But with each answer, every action, he quietly established his position, held his ground with her, while he listened intently when she spoke. There was no arrogance in his demeanor. No presumption and expectation.

Which was why, soon after she discovered her shocking lust for him, she was bowled over by another even more startling realization:

She liked him.

Perhaps even more than she lusted for him. Oh, very well, as much as she lusted for him. Which was to say—she liked him A. Lot.

Kira didn’t often feel at a disadvantage, but she felt it keenly with Prince Cambyses.

What did he think of her? Even if it was just her looks? He didn’t seem repulsed by the seeds she planted earlier—that the Princess was rather a hellion with her “unnatural” manly pursuits and inclinations.

She decided to simply ask him. If there was one thing she learned about the Prince by now, it was that he didn’t shy away from the truth.

“What do you think?” she leaned in close to whisper in his ear, her lips almost brushing the sensitive shell, her hand on his forearm, their skin separated by the cloth of his sleeve.

He started visibly, whether at her closeness or her words, she couldn’t tell. She just knew that she loved having the ability to surprise him.

“Do you find her beautiful?” she asked and gestured with a tilt of her head toward her doppelganger, who sat at the King’s left side on the raised dais.

While Kira, in her manly disguise, the Prince’s small contingent and other noblemen and guests were to sit at a gigantic long table that ran the entire length of the Great Hall.

“I…”

He seemed at a loss for words, his obscenely thick and feathery eyelashes fluttering when he quickly slid a gaze at the dais and back down at his feet. The sharpness of his cheekbones tinted with a faint flush.

Kira found this fascinating. Was the preternaturally self-possessed Prince actually shy?

“Yes,” he finally answered.

Kira frowned as she scrutinized him closely.

Should she be glad or jealous? Her doppelganger obviously looked like her, but not exactly the same. The girl resembled a more feminine, reserved, polite version of her. And if Kira was absolutely honest, which she always tried to be with herself, her companion was the far prettier one. With lusher curves. Rounder eyes. Fuller lips. Creamier skin.

Hmm. Jealousy it was then. The first time Kira ever felt the emotion.

She didn’t like it.

She decided to focus on the nonexistent speck of lint on her tunic sleeve instead of dwelling on the unpleasant rash of heat burning her skin and the churning ball of disgruntlement that weighed down like an anvil in her belly. The most unpleasant of indigestions.

The Prince surprised her by expounding further, “She is not what I expected, based on what you told me of her pursuits.”

“Why?” Kira muttered rather sharply. “Did you think she’d be wearing trousers and act like a man because of her mannish interests?”

“No,” came his slow, considering answer. “I thought she might be bolder and meet my eyes like an equal. She seems bashful.”

Said the man who fluttered his own lashes like a love-sick moon-calf at the sight of the Princess. Or rather, her look-alike.

Kira was starting to confuse even herself.

Finally, they took their seats at the long table.

She couldn’t resist leaning in again to whisper, “Even the boldest women are bashful around the men they admire. Perhaps the princess is very taken with you. Perhaps it is love at first sight.”

Her heart stuttered at the way her thoughtless mouth revealed so much of what she felt so carelessly. With bated breath she awaited his response.

But alas, his attention was shifted to King Apries, who engaged the Prince in polite conversation.

To distract herself from the almost irresistible desire to worship him with her eyes throughout the entire meal, Kira turned to converse with one the Prince’s retainers on her other side. All the while listening with one ear to the discussion between her father and the Prince.

Once in a while the King involved Kira in the dialogue as well, and she answered as truthfully and as obliquely as she could, given her current pretense as Amon. She ensured that her father received the message loud and clear, however—she was pleased with