Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 165618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
But the buck stopped at Tanyn.
He could intervene. He could veto. He could introduce his own laws, and unless the legislature voted against them with a ninety-five percent decision, they would pass.
Arnaud had used these things for nefarious, frightening, and sometimes disgusting reasons (like lowering the age of consent of females to ten years old).
For the past three weeks, Tanyn had been in the thick of disentangling all this mess, overturning Arnaud’s most morally despicable edicts and setting his realm to rights.
Obviously, there was a good deal of work to be done, but he didn’t dally in diving right in to do it.
I didn’t want to think about any of this either.
I refused to be fascinated by King Tanyn.
And I definitely refused to admire him.
“It isn’t yet my place to intervene in your family dynamics,” Tanyn brought my attention from thinking about him to talking to him. “It also is. I’m simply saying, it’s something to think about.”
“Right,” I replied, before I noted, “I thought you weren’t calling about that.”
“I lied.”
He said this dispassionately.
Then again, he was full demon.
Of course he lied effortlessly.
“Dad and I have had these situations before.” Not this bad, I did not share. “We’ll get over it.”
“Good.”
“I have a spa-visor program to finish,” I informed him. “Are we done talking?”
“Is that what that thing was?”
“You’ve never seen a spa-visor?”
“I’m a male.”
I scoffed. “Males use spa-visors.”
“Not this male.”
“I’m sure you haven’t just recently been introduced to females,” I drawled.
“If I want them, I fuck them. Once I have them, I’m done with them. And they don’t tend to give themselves facials while I’m fucking them.”
There was so much there to bite back about, it was unreal.
But since I was putting all my effort into not letting my head explode with how offended I was on behalf of myself and every female breathing, I didn’t have it in me to bite back.
“And no, to answer your question, we’re not done talking,” he carried on.
“What else would you like to discuss, sire?” I asked through my teeth.
“Have you ended it with him?”
Oh my gods!
A million percent yes.
I refused to be fascinated by this infuriating male.
Another million percent YES!
I absolutely refused to admire him.
“That’ll be done this weekend,” I said tightly.
“Confirm with me when it’s done,” he ordered.
“Listen, Your Majesty, I’m not one of your subjects.”
“Yet,” he inserted.
I ignored that and stated, “So how about you give the kingly commands a rest until I’m chained to you and the cage is firmly locked around me.”
“I’m going to make you happy,” he announced, not grandly, not vehemently, not warmly, simply matter-of-factly. Like he could say, You’re going to be happy, and then I would be.
“That remains to be seen,” I retorted.
“Indeed it does, and it will.”
This farging male.
“Can we be done talking now?” I requested.
“When are you ending things with him?”
One-track mind.
“Tomorrow, if he confirms,” I pushed out. “By the end of the weekend, definitely.”
“Don’t sleep with him.”
I had no intention of having farewell sex with Bash, even if I liked having sex with Bash. It would be too painful. Maybe not for him, but for me.
Even so…
“You can’t tell me what to—”
“Hear me, Catla,” he said, the silk of his voice taut, which surprised me, since it denoted emotion. “Do not, as you are legally tied to me, fuck that male. Understood?”
I wanted to latch onto the fact that yes, I was tied to him, but no, I was not bound to him, so he could not tell me what to do.
But a little niggly section in the back of my brain reminded me his father cheated on his mother, that had cataclysmic results for the both of them, and this was not cheating (per se), but it might not be about him being a bossy, domineering king, but considering he’d made it clear he already thought I was his, it might be about that.
“I had no intention of doing that, and therefore I already was not going to do that,” I forced out.
He nodded.
Once.
And then said, “I’ll comm you Sunday afternoon.”
“I’ll be busy.”
“Then I’ll comm you Sunday evening.”
“I’m busy then too.”
“Then I’ll jet to Nocturn and be in your flat Sunday night so you can not only confirm things are over with that male, we can enjoy a long chat.”
Gah!
“I’ll accept your comm Sunday evening,” I relented.
“Excellent.”
“Are we done now?”
“Now? Yes. Done? Never.”
How much trouble could you get in for slapping a king?
I’d have to look it up.
“Talk to you Sunday,” I bid.
“You will,” he replied, like it was a threat.
Okay then.
I was officially done.
Without saying goodbye, I ended the comm.
I allowed myself a moment to seethe. That felt so good, I allowed myself several more moments.
Still minorly seething, I tossed aside the straw, downed the last of my martini in one gulp, donned the spa-visor to finish the program and sat back in my pool.