The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,44

she was rewarded with a chuckle. “Yes. You are perhaps one of Our Princess’s biggest supporters.”

“She’s My Princess, not yours. And I would not presume to place myself so highly in her lengthy list of admirers.” Myth sniffed for effect.

“She is a princess of both countries.”

“Indeed.”

He shook his head slightly. “Thanks, Myth.”

“Whatever for?”

“For cheering me up.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Myth gave Arvel her best stoic translator look, but was unable to hold it when his smile unfolded.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Arvel asked.

Myth rolled her eyes. “Now you’re getting sentimental.” She was casting around her mind for something hopefully clever to say, when she felt it.

The air changed, again.

She was afraid to look, but almost unwillingly, she turned to peer in his direction.

And there he was, the Prince of Seduction. His eyes seemed to smolder even in the shade of the trees, and his smile was just the barest twitch of his lips, but his presence filled the area around him, making Myth uncomfortably aware of him. He took only a step closer to her, leaving plenty of room between them, but Myth swore she could feel the heat he radiated anyway.

Why, why must his body posture change so markedly? That’s the one language I cannot understand!

She just about jumped when Arvel picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.

“No, you really are wonderful, and intelligent, and beautiful.” He hadn’t released or lowered her hand, so his lips brushed her skin every time he spoke.

“Um.” Myth tried to give her mind a good kick in hopes of rekindling her intelligence—which would apparently leave her disoriented at the sight of a pretty face.

Naturally. I couldn’t be a smooth and controlled elf. Goodness, no. Too advantageous for a peasant like me when working with princes!

Myth squeaked, and even her internal thoughts went up several octaves when Arvel switched his grip so their fingers were now intertwined. “W-what?” she stammered.

The Prince of Seduction rubbed the top of her hand with the pads of his fingers. “We’ve got work waiting for us in the study. We’d better go,” he purred.

Myth finally found her voice. “No, no, no—no, no.” Despite her words, she let Arvel pull her along by their clasped hands, their shoulders brushing every other step. “This is—people will get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that?” Arvel innocently asked.

“That we are involved!” Myth hissed.

“Oh.” Arvel paused and nodded. “I see. Yes, you are right. We can’t have people thinking that.” He still hadn’t lost his Prince of Seduction aura—Myth’s hands were rapidly warming and heading alarmingly toward sweating as he still hadn’t released her. She looked up at him with suspicion instead of relief at his words.

As such, she only bulged her eyes when he smiled down at her. “We’re only at the point where I’m trying to sway you into being involved with me.”

“Arvel!”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes!”

“A creepy uncomfortable?”

Under his intense gaze, Myth sucked her neck into her shoulders. “No,” she mumbled in hopes that he wouldn’t hear.

“Perfect,” the Prince of Seduction said with great satisfaction. He leaned in close, hovering just close enough to her so he wasn’t touching, but if she made even the tiniest movement, they’d brush. “I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you before, but you are a confounding combination of cool beauty and entrancing warmth.”

I’m going to die, Myth realized. Like this. My heart can’t take…him, and so it will just stop. It will be the most embarrassing recorded death ever. Here lies Mythlan, daughter of Wylorym and Lusana. Her heart was overcome by a handsome human, and she DIED!

Myth cleared her throat. “You seem…overcome. Perhaps you are hungry and we should call for some tea for you.”

The Prince of Seduction chuckled and let go of her hand, only to raise his fingers and brush Myth’s jawline. “What if I said I was hungry, but not for food?”

Myth exploded into motion, taking a huge leap down the garden path that she, frankly, wouldn’t have had the strength for at any other moment in her life. “Since you seem to need a breather, I’ll meet you at your study!” She hustled down the path, her coat flapping behind her, and Arvel’s laughter chasing after her.

Odious prince. She checked behind her to make sure he wasn’t hot on her trail. He can’t seriously be attempting the human courtship Blaise mentioned, can he? But I’m just a translator—I’m not even the right social class!

Because of the unexpected exercise—not at all due to the blushing