Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“This is reckless even for you,” he argued.
She sighed. “Look, you aren’t even supposed to be here. I told you that I’d come back to New York when I was ready. I don’t know what part of that you don’t understand. I don’t need your help.”
“As flattered as I am that you think that I came all the way to Paris just for you,” he said with a pointed look, “you needed my help to extract you from that guard.”
She snorted. “Like I couldn’t have handled that on my own.”
“Without leaving a trail of bodies…”
“What were you even doing in that hallway anyway?”
“Lurking.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you ever give a straight answer?”
“Can you?”
“I don’t have time for this…for you,” she said, pulling away from him. “Contrary to what you think, I’m not acting reckless. I’m going to go scope out the room and the queen and form a plan from there. You can stay here—out of my way.”
But he grasped her elbow again before she could leave. “I am trying to keep you from getting thrown into jail.”
She laughed. “Like a jail could hold me.”
She’d broken out of a number of them long before she’d known she had magic. Growing up as a prodigy to a New York thieving master sometimes came in handy. As long as she didn’t think too long about the abuse she’d endured from Jason.
Graves looked her up and down as if reassessing her. She knew that look. He sized people up the way she evaluated objects. He was determining how much he could get out of her if he helped keep her out of a jail cell.
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “Don’t look at me like that.”
His gloved hand slid from her elbow to her wrist, tugging her palm flat against his chest. “Like what?”
She swallowed at the nearness. “Like you’re trying to determine my value.”
“We both already know what your value is.” His other hand slipped around her waist, drawing her nearer. Her breath hitched as his head dipped to her ear again. “Priceless.”
“Graves,” she warned.
“I can help you.”
Her eyes lifted to his mercurial gray orbs. “How?”
“I am…acquainted with the queen. Once she is in the ballroom, I can get you close enough.”
“For what price?”
“Must there be a price between us?” he asked almost gently.
For a second, he seemed earnest. As if he wanted to help her out of the goodness of his own heart. A magnanimous gesture for the man—monster—who had never done anything magnanimous.
Somehow that made her more suspicious.
There was an angle here that she wasn’t seeing. That was how it always was with Graves. She didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t answered what he was doing here in the first place. Obviously he’d known she was going to be here, but he’d known she was in Dublin, too. He could have flown across the pond at any point to interfere in her life. What was different about Paris? Why accept this invitation?
And yet she couldn’t deny that she and Graves worked well together. The weeks leading up to the winter solstice had proven that. She recalled hours spent locked away in the Holly Library going over blueprints and vault sequences. The feel of his body pressed against her whether in training or sex. All of it had been exquisite.
She cleared the image that conjured of her pinned against the stacks. Not helpful.
“Just spit it out,” she said instead.
“You’re going to dislike this enough for that to be the cost anyway,” he said as he drew her out of their nook.
She blinked at him. “What does that mean?”
“Smile,” he commanded. She bared her teeth at him, and he chuckled. “There you are.”
A clock chimed midnight as one wall of the throne room opened to a magnificent ballroom straight out of a faerie tale. Everything was gilded and marble and towering chandeliers. It was almost too beautiful to look at let alone hold hundreds of people while they drank, danced, and celebrated.
Graves led Kierse into the ballroom, and her first look at Queen Aveline took her breath away. She was solid as the tree she derived her name from, with ample cleavage spilling out of her ornate golden gown. Her skin was as brown as tree bark, and her eyes were the vivid blue of a spring. She had a defined dimple when she smiled at her adoring subjects. The layers of her dress accented the curve of her waist but didn’t hide her full figure and round stomach. And there on her wrist was the goblin bracelet.
“We should—”
“Not yet,” Graves interrupted.
“But—”
“Dance with me.”
Her eyes widened as she watched couples join the dance floor. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“I’m good enough for the both of us.”
She shot him a look. “So modest.”
He smirked. “If you keep complimenting me, I’ll think that you like me.”