Stealing His Princess (Kings of Conquest #2) - Adelaide Forrest Page 0,4
one swig. He gave the glass a look that was as discontented as I felt. "You're right. More than one glass feels necessary. But since we're both without a drink and standing around doing nothing, I suppose it’s as good a time as any for us to dance."
I sighed, "Must we?" He took the glass from my hand and handed it off to a server going around collecting empties. "The least you could have done was get me another drink."
"One dance, Bristol, and then I'll get you as many drinks as you want." He leaned down to whisper by my ear. "Come on, now. We must keep up appearances."
He held out his hand for me to take, and I entertained the idea of saying no. Of saying I was done doing what was expected of me in favor of doing what I wanted to do for myself. It was a push and pull I was familiar with: one I'd lived with for what felt like the whole of my life.
But there was something about this night. A tension in the air that I couldn't quite identify. Like a frisson down my spine, sending tingles crawling down my arms until I felt engulfed in sensation.
Holden took my hand in his and I allowed him to lead me to the dance floor where he kept a proper distance between us. His palm touched my waist, but I felt nothing as he guided me to the music, nothing to think of but the steps of the dance.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the way other women in the room watched us. Sharp gazes watching me with envy in their eyes, a desperation. I knew some of them wished me ill for what they saw as my fortune, while others could only desperately hope for a match half as good as Holden. "They hate me, you know."
He started a little and looked down at me distractedly, head tilted in question. Rather than feel miffed at his inattention, it soothed a part of my soul that Holden was as unenthusiastic about our arrangement as I was. The last thing I would want was to hurt a good friend. "You’re a well-liked and well-loved Princess, even if you are stubborn as an ox. Why would anyone hate you?"
"Many of the women watch us dance and think me cruel for stealing you from them. That I'm the lucky Princess who didn't have to make much effort to land a match that is not only suitable..." I looked up at him and gave him my cheekiest smile and a wink. "But enviable." I stuck my tongue out in disgust, ever the picture of feminine grace.
He threw his head back and laughed, returning my wink with one of his own. "Exactly how many women?”
With a shake of the head, I give his arm a light backhanded slap. "Trust you to latch on to that one tiny part out of everything I said. Enough of them. Don’t be too flattered, though. They want you for your attractive portfolio, not your pretty face." I stuck my tongue out at him again and rested my forehead on his arm as the desire to laugh and cry at the same time overwhelmed me.
“I don’t think that was too much of a compliment.” He rubbed circles across my back to comfort me and had me sighing and looking beyond the royals in the room. I called on all my training and managed to regain my composure as Holden twirled me around, giving me a view of the other side of the room.
That was when I saw him. He was hard to miss, a figure larger than most of the other royals, with their leaner figures. He half-hid in the shadows by the curtained area that led to an outdoor terrace. I could feel his scrutiny; those sharp green eyes taking in everything, not missing a thing.
I started, and not just because the way he looked made me uneasy, but because even from so far away, I could picture his stare. I could feel it. "Where’s your boyfriend?” I struggled to make my tone teasing, pushing through the tension as much as I could.
He narrowed his eyes at me and tweaked my nose with a flick of a finger. “Naughty girl you are, Bristol. I don’t have a boyfriend. You and I are getting married, but even if we weren’t, men are not to my taste.”