Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Life was full of surprises, wasn’t it?
Nicolo turned off the water and wrapped me in a towel, his movements sure and steady while I was still wobbling like a newborn baby giraffe trying to figure out how legs worked. I was dimly aware of him carrying me to my bed, and as Nicolo laid me down on the soft sheets, I thought I heard him murmur something that sounded suspiciously like...
Mine.
I WOKE UP ALONE IN bed the next day, and for a moment I couldn’t remember why my body felt so languid and satisfied, like I’d just had the world’s best massage combined with eight hours of actual sleep for once.
Then the memories came flooding back.
The shower. Nicolo. What we’d done.
Oh. My. Gosh.
I sat up quickly, looking around my room for any sign of him, but he was gone. Like he’d never been there at all. Like maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing in some kind of fever dream after a day of compatibility tests and shifter princes and family dinner disasters.
Except for the note on my bedside table.
It was written on heavy cream paper in Nicolo’s bold handwriting:
Tomorrow night. Lucent Summit. Masked ball.
Be ready by eight.
I’ll choose what you wear.
N
I stared at the note, my heart starting to race all over again as reality crashed back into me like a wrecking ball wrapped in anxiety.
It was another compatibility test for sure, and something told me I was in for a very long night.
I fell back against my pillows with a groan, covering my face with my hands like I could somehow hide from the memory of kneeling in front of Nicolo, of his fingers between my legs, of the way he’d said my name like it was something precious and forbidden at the same time.
What had I done?
Chapter Seven
Ispent the entire next day in a state of panic that bordered on clinical.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Nicolo’s hands in my hair, could taste him on my lips, could remember the way he’d made me fall apart with just two strokes of his fingers. And every time I opened them, I saw that note on my bedside table promising another “test” that I was absolutely not prepared for.
I’ll choose what you wear.
What did that even mean? Was he going to show up with some horrible formal dress that made me look like a rejected bridesmaid? Something so revealing I’d spend the entire evening trying not to flash supernatural dignitaries?
Or worse—something so perfect and beautiful that I’d have to admit he knew my body better than I did?
All three options were equally terrifying.
I was pacing around my office for the fifteenth time that afternoon when Ada knocked on my door.
“Your stepbrother is here,” she announced, poking her head inside with the expression of someone delivering bad news. “And he’s carrying a garment bag.”
My stomach dropped. “Tell him I’m not here.”
“I tried that. He said to tell you that hiding from protocol violations won’t make them go away.”
“Protocol violations?”
“His words, not mine.” Ada stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Also, he looks really good today. Like, unfairly good. The kind of good that makes you forget you’re supposed to be a professional.”
“Ada.”
“I’m just saying, if my stepbrother looked like that, I’d—”
“Ada!”
“Right. Sorry. He’s waiting in Conference Room B.”
I took a deep breath and tried to channel some semblance of professional composure. I could do this. I could walk into that conference room, find out what fresh torture Nicolo had planned for tonight, and handle it like the mature businesswoman I was pretending to be.
I made it exactly three steps into Conference Room B before my brain short-circuited.
Nicolo was standing by the windows, dressed in another beautiful and beautifully expensive suit that just made him seem more lethally hot even without revealing any of his abs. His loosened tie and rolled-up sleeves, however, added a touch of roughness to his magnetism, and the way he—
Stop it, Maryah!
Because I had just noticed my stepbrother was smirking at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking about for the past fifteen seconds.
Ugh.
“Close the door, please.”
Since he said the magic word, I did as asked, but as soon as I turned around, I wished I hadn’t done it at all, seeing how he now had the garment bag in his hand.
“Um...” I cleared my throat. “About last night—”
“We should talk about tonight instead,” he suggested.
“But—”
“But yes, you’re right, you should change into this first.”
I stared at the bag like it might contain a bomb.
“You have nothing to worry about. It’s entirely appropriate.”
Right, right.
I’m totally buying that.
Not.
“What do you know about the Lucent Summit?”
“Not much,” I admitted warily.
“It’s to celebrate the revival of the Faes’ High Circle,” Nicolo murmured, “and this is their second year to host it.” Nicolo unzipped the bag while speaking, his fingers working its usual brand of elegance and efficiency. “Invited guests are to showcase the floral species unique to their territories...”