by Dani Collins
This was the tricky moment. Everett held his breath, wondering if the official would recognize her, but he only glanced at the blank backside, then stuffed the photo between the pages. He handed the book to Everett.
Everett set the photo on the side table and pretended to read.
Twenty minutes later, the doctor came in, gave him the North Korean brand of an antihistamine pen, and discharged him. Everett neglected to pick up the photo on his way out.
The next morning, as they were about to climb aboard the van, the same official pulled him aside. dpg!
Damn. That was never a good sign, but Everett kept an unbothered expression on his face.
A Korean woman offered him a small package and a silk scarf with cherry blossoms embroidered on it. The scarf was delicate and seemed valuable, but the woman motioned that this was to protect his still raw throat.
He got the message and put it on, bowing his thanks.
The official inspected the tea, sniffed it, and allowed him to board the bus.
When he gave Freja the scarf she cried into it, but for once Giovanni didn’t scold him for interfering.
Coming next month
CHRISTMAS IN THE KING’S BED
Caitlin Crews
“Your Majesty. Really.” Calista moistened her lip and he found himself drawn to that, too. What was the matter with him? “You can’t possibly think that we would suit for anything more than a temporary arrangement to appease my father’s worst impulses.”
“I need to marry, Lady Calista. I need to produce heirs, and quickly, to prove to my people the kingdom is at last in safe hands. There will be no divorce.” Orion smiled more than he should have, perhaps, when she looked stricken. “We are stuck. In each other’s pockets, it seems.”
She blanched at that, but he had no pity for her. Or nothing so simple as pity, anyway.
He moved toward her, taking stock of the way she lifted her head too quickly—very much as if she was beating back the urge to leap backward. To scramble away from him, as if he was some kind of predator.
The truth was, something in him roared its approval at that notion. He, who had always prided himself on how civilized he was, did not dislike the idea that here, with her, he was as much a man as any other.
Surely that had to be a good sign for their marriage.
Whether it was or wasn’t, he stopped when he reached her. Then he stood before her and took her hand in his. loz
And the contact, skin on skin, floored him.
It was so…tactile.
It made him remember the images that had been dancing in his head ever since he’d brought up sex in her presence. It made him imagine it all in intricate detail.
It made him hard and needy, but better yet, it made her tremble.
Very solemnly, he took the ring—the glorious ring that in many ways was Idylla’s standard to wave proudly before the world—and slid it onto one of her slender fingers.
And because he was a gentleman and a king, did not point out that she was shaking while he did it.
“And now,” he said, in a low voice that should have been smooth, or less harshly possessive, but wasn’t, “you are truly my betrothed. The woman who will be my bride. My queen. Your name will be bound to mine for eternity.”
Continue reading
CHRISTMAS IN THE KING’S BED
Caitlin Crews
Available next month
Copyright ©2020 by Caitlin Crews
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