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“Everyone is a mountain.”
If people are mountains, this man is a volcano. Lucky for me, I’m used to living near one.
His nearness sends a shiver over my skin. He is pure male power deceptively draped in whispering robes and silky hair.
“When you smile, I feel as if there is happiness quivering on your lips, just here.” He brushes my mouth with the tip of his thumb. “And if I want it, all I have to do is…” His mouth dips toward mine.
“Do you realize how often you deny me the things I ask? I am your king, you impertinent vagabond. Obey me.”
Why can’t I see anything but a weary, lonely man who comes to me with hunger and hope in his eyes?
“As I said, any Queen of mine must be able to calm volatile people. They must know how to deal with monsters.” There’s an intensity to his eyes, a pointed significance to his words.
“You think very highly of yourself, Majesty,” I manage. “I truly don’t,” he says, and I look up in time to see the agony of truth in his eyes. A mere flicker, and then gone.
Because I’ll throw myself in the fires of Analoir Doiteain before I let her assassinate the man I’m beginning to love.
“And you love this mountain, the one that could kill you without meaning to?” I press my palm over his heart. “I do.” “The mountain would give you everything in its power.”
