Without warning, something bumped into Harleen, sending her sprawling on the floor, causing the bag that contained her private book to fall from her hands. The book slipped out of the bag, but Harleen had yet to notice it or prevent it from happening because she had to break her fall.
“Oh my God,” a voice said from behind her. “Miss, I am so” - the man cut himself short when he realized just who it was he was talking to - “Oh, Your-Your Highness, my apologies!” He seemed to get flustered, quickly offering her his hand in order to help her up. “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not see you there. I am truly sorry. Have I ruined your dress? Shall I buy you a new one?”
Harleen felt herself smile at how badly the man seemed to feel. “It’s okay,” she reassured him, wiping her hands together. “Please, calm down. I’m not hurt, and I’m sure after one washing, the dress will be back to normal. It’s okay. I promise.”
The man stared at her with piercing blue eyes for a long moment, as though he was trying to decipher if the woman in front of him was lying or not. Harleen took that time to study him; he had unruly jet black hair and those blue eyes, which contrasted greatly against his pale skin. He appeared to be growing a moustache that connected with a goatee – something men did that Harleen would never quite understand - but his face was chiseled to the point where he could pull it off. Wearing a royal blue long sleeved tunic and matching slacks, he was quite handsome, the more Harleen looked at him, but there was something off about him that Harleen couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Oh, I caused you to drop your book,” he said, noticing the reading material. Before Harleen could stop him, he knelt down to grab it, his eyes skimming over the concept of the book before standing back up. His lips had curved up into a mischievous grin, especially when he noticed Harleen’s blush. “Here you are, Your Majesty. If I may speak freely,” he began, handing Harleen her book, “there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about when it comes to furthering one’s knowledge about sexuality.” He stuck out his hand. “I am Nigel Curry.”
Despite his words, Harleen felt herself blush anyways. “I’m Harleen,” she said, slipping her hand within his.
Nigel drew her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “It is an honor, Your Majesty,” he murmured against her skin.
There was something wrong about this, but Harleen couldn’t decipher what that was. She gently tugged back her hand before placing the book back in its bag as fast as she could. “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder as she started to head back indoors. Something felt wrong about him, about what he had done.
She wanted to go back to her room and nap. Or eat lunch first and then nap. Yes, that sounded like a plan.
However, when Harleen returned to her room, she wasn’t expecting Andrew to be back. In fact, she hadn’t expected Andrew to arrive until after dinner. At least, that was what she had thought happened with other kings, based on what she read about or saw in movies. Then again, she couldn’t exactly base her knowledge of the practices of kings on movies and stories. Maybe Hell worked differently.
“Harley,” he said, seeming genuinely happy at the fact that she had returned. He gave her his notorious crooked smile as he took in her outfit, something he definitely approved of, though he would never say. “Good to see you, my wife. Did you have fun?”
Harleen ignored the fact that he had called her his wife, but her eyes did flash when he had called her Harley. Andrew immediately recognized the look and his smile deepened, as though he was challenging her to say something about it. “Actually, I did,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and letting the bag dangle from her fingers. “Hell is a very beautiful place.”
“It makes me glad you say that,” he said, his dark hazel eyes suddenly noticing the bag. “And I see you wasted no time when it came to shopping, though I must tell you, you are the only woman I know who would rather spend money on a book than clothes. What did you get?”
Harleen was poised to make a comment on just what kind of women he knew, but his interest in the book threw her off. “Nothing,” she said, a little too quickly, thrusting the bag behind her back. “Who is Nigel Curry?”
The name caused Andrew to frown, forgetting, at least temporarily, the contents of Harleen’s bag. Something in his eyes darkened, and he suddenly regarded his new wife with a serious expression on his face. “Why?”
“He accidentally bumped into me in the courtyard,” Harleen explained. “I was wondering about him.”
“You be careful around him, you hear me?” Andrew told her, and though he wasn’t exactly ordering her around, it felt as though he were. “Be wary of him, Harleen. He is a member of the court and he is known for being sexually aggressive with women. I hope that because you are my wife, he will not try anything, but I cannot be certain of it. You are incredibly tempting.” He tilted his head, his eyes dropping to her lips as he took a step forward. He attempted to kiss her once again, but like before, Harleen managed to dodge the kiss, causing amusement to tickle Andrew’s features.
“And how was your day?” she asked him genuinely, once she had distanced herself from him.
“As usual,” he murmured as he followed her. Once he was close enough, he reached up and ran his fingers through her wavy tresses. He felt her freeze under his touch, and a warmth spread through his body at this effect he seemed to have over her. “I made decisions, executed the law, things like that. Things kings do.”
“I would like to be there next time,” Harleen told him, unsure if Hell was patriarchal and her presence would not be accepted at court. However, she did want to see what it was that he did, especially if she was to be his wife.
Andrew pressed his lips together, thinking a minute before finally nodding his head. “Yes, I agree,” he said. “I would like you to sit beside me and assist with my decisions. You are my queen, after all. Although, I suggest that maybe you should wear something nice.” He stared pointedly at her dress, as though trying to signify something to her.
“You don’t approve of this dress?” Harleen asked as Andrew took a step towards her.
“Quite the contrary,” he said, once again tilting his head downwards, though it should be noted he wasn’t attempting to kiss her this time. Yet. “I approve of it, and I believe others – my court – would as well, which could prove to be quite distracting.” An enigmatic smile touched his lips. “You are beautiful, you do realize this right?”
Harleen felt those butterflies that seemed to have followed her from her new house in Dover Shores to her new place in Hell. “I will wear something more appropriate then,” she agreed, hoping she didn’t reveal her obvious attraction to him in her eyes.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Harleen woke up alongside Andrew. Her head wasn’t on his shoulder or anything cliché. In fact, her back faced towards him and her head was resting comfortably on a soft pillow. But his arm was wrapped securely around her waist, and though she would never admit it aloud – least of all not to him – she felt safe in his arms. After another moment of mindless pondering, she decided it was time to get up. If she wanted to dress appropriately for City Hall, she needed to shower and go through her wardrobe to pick out a dress that was both classy and elegant.
And she wanted to make sure she looked good. She wanted Andrew to know that she did care about what she looked like when the two went out together. Yes, she was upset with him for tricking her, for stealing her soul and sending her to live here, in Hell, away from her friends… But she realized it could be much worse than it was, and for that, she couldn’t help be grateful. He could have raped her or worse, but he didn’t. He could have done so many things to her, but he hadn’t. At least not yet. If it took dressing up in order to please him, in order to keep things safe between them, then she would do it.
Harleen attempted to slip out of his grasp without waking Andrew up, but somehow, even in his sleep, his grip tightened around her. She had to lift her hand and cover her mouth in
order to keep her silent giggles from slipping out. It took a few more tries, but she finally managed to get up and headed immediately to the restroom before taking a shower. Once everything was washed and her hair was dry, Harleen stepped outside, only a towel wrapped around her body. She had assumed Andrew would still be asleep, but he was up, and oh, he was shirtless.
Harleen couldn’t help as her eyes dropped to take in his chiseled torso, saw scars litter his otherwise flawless body. Andrew watched her, noticed the desire so clear in her eyes that he couldn’t help as his own darkened even more so than they already were. He always knew she was attracted to him, much like he was attracted to her, but she had yet to actually do anything about it. Until she did, he would keep a safe distance, but it was indescribably difficult to do when she looked at him the way she was…
“While I personally admire your choice of outfit,” Andrew said, his voice breaking through the silence, cutting their tension down, at least for now, “I find that it might be a tad distracting.” His crooked smile was on his face, and though Harleen wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes and walk away, she couldn’t stop a smile from touching her lips.
“Hmm,” she said, placing her hands on her hips while making sure the towel didn’t fall off her body. “I had a feeling you might say that. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a dress then.”
Andrew nodded but said nothing as he watched her walk across the room, his dark hazel eyes filled with arousal and approval. He could not wait until he had Harleen completely naked, making love to her over and over again. He wanted to hear her say his name through a gasp, wanted to feel the way her fingernails would sink into his flesh as she begged him not stop… And he wouldn’t.
But now was not the time to think about that.
Andrew finished dressing in fifteen minutes and headed down the stairs and outside, waiting adjacent to a ready carriage. He glanced at the watch on his left wrist, which indicated they had about twenty minutes to get to City Hall if they wanted to be on time, and Andrew was always on time. He wore a black and white suit that fit his frame quite nicely; it was simple and comfortable, and that was what he needed when he had to endure long days making judgments and carrying them out.
It was then that he noticed Harleen, and his breath suddenly escaped from him. She wore a simple but elegant gown, gold in color, that cut low in front. A thick, silk belt one shade darker wrapped around her waist and was tied as a bow in the back. The skirt clung to her thighs before flitting around her legs and stopping just below her ankles. On her feet were matching high heels, and her hair was left down with natural makeup on her face. She looked…
“Are you ready then?” he asked, breaking from his thoughts before his mind could express them. He offered her his hand and helped her into the carriage.
“I think so,” she replied. “Though I’m not sure just what I should be ready for.”
“I find you’ll enjoy yourself,” Andrew said, giving her an encouraging smile.
City Hall looked just like every other City Hall up on earth, except that the size was much more massive. People were already lining up, no doubt having some issue they needed to speak with the devil himself about. When they noticed the carriage, they dropped to their knees in a respectful bow. When they noticed Harleen with her arm through Andrew’s, they started murmuring to themselves, surprised that the Queen would be participating in Judgments and that the King would allow her to do so. Though Hell never claimed to be patriarchal, the people had only been used to Andrew’s presence, and weren’t exactly sure how they felt about someone new – a woman; a human – listening in on what their problems were.
“No time for a tour, I’m afraid,” Andrew whispered to her as he led her inside the doors of City Hall. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her down a long hallway before stopping at a small door. Harleen peered at it oddly as Andrew grabbed the door handle and opened it, but without relinquishing his touch on his wife’s back. “After you, my dear.”
“Please, no terms of endearments,” she whispered as she walked by him.
“Ah, that’s right,” Andrew murmured back as he followed her inside. “You prefer to be called Harley.” He threw her a cocky, crooked smile, leaving Harleen to do nothing except roll her eyes and walk into the room.
The members of Andrew’s court, as well as the audience, all stood up to show proper respect for the couple, but most were surprised that Harleen was even there. However, Andrew said nothing, as though Harleen’s presence wasn’t all that unusual, and when the couple took a seat, so did they.
Court began. Harleen watched with sharp and even admirable eyes as each member of the Court announced a case. Andrew would listen to both sides of the case intently, look over the evidence, and then make a decision. Surprisingly enough, Andrew was fair. Sometimes, he would even go against the recommended decision made by his Court in order to give out a fairer sentence. Harleen didn’t even feel the need to speak because she thought Andrew handled everything quite well on his own.
Up until Nigel, the man she had bumped into in the Courtyard, brought in a young boy and requested that his left hand be chopped off because he was caught stealing. They had witnesses, and even the boy confessed to it, although he did say that he was doing it in order to feed his family.
When it came time for Andrew to make his judgment, Harleen turned to Andrew. “You cannot possibly punish the boy,” she told him in a quiet voice, though many members could clearly hear what she said. “You would be punishing him simply for being poor and that is not his fault. Especially since you know that if you were in his place, you would be doing the exact same thing.”
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” Nigel said in a sharp voice. “But you do not know our practices here yet. Maybe it would be best if you continued to observe and allowe your husband to continue to make decisions.”
“I know enough to know that you shouldn’t cut off a boy’s hand off because he stole a loaf of bread,” Harleen snapped, her green eyes burning with fire.
“I am inclined to agree with my wife,” Andrew said after finally shifting his focus from Harleen’s profile and out to Court. “This particular punishment is too severe, though I do agree that he needs to be punished in some way.” He thought about it for a moment before leaning over the table and looking at the boy directly. “You there. Do you go to school, son?” The boy, completely flustered at being addressed by Satan himself, took a moment before nodding his head. “Right, every Monday and Wednesday after school, you come to my castle and help in the kitchens. You may take leftovers home, but it is necessary that you are on time and you don’t steal anything from the grounds. Is that clear?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically and once Andrew’s gavel hit the surface of the desk he was at, the boy was led away. Without saying anything, Harleen reached over and gave Andrew’s hand a squeeze, a brilliant smile on her face. Andrew remained silent, but realized if she smiled like that at him again, he would probably give her anything she could ever want.
--
“He’s gone soft, Nigel. Did you see that sentence he handed out to that boy?”
“Of course I did,” Nigel snapped.
“They have not yet consummated their marriage. Doing what she wanted is just a ploy to get the Queen on her back with her legs spread wide open.”
“This is all her fault. She’s influencing His Majesty, and not in a good way.”
“She shouldn’t even be permitted in Court!”
“Don’t worry about the human,” Nigel said, his voice low and crisp as he narrowed his eyes at no one in particular. “You leave her to me.”
Chapter 6
That night, Harleen changed out of her dress and into cotton pajamas that would no doubt keep her warm that evening. Apparently, Sean found it ironic that the pants were black with cute flames on them while the tank top was white with one flame on the chest. Sean was into irony, it would seem, and simply had to have it incorporated in his ever
yday life. In fact, Harleen assumed that he picked out the majority of her wardrobe. She wasn’t complaining, though; she secretly loved the new clothes, and everything fit her beautifully.
Currently, she was laying the wrong way on the bed she shared with her new husband, her hands resting on her stomach, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. To be honest, she couldn’t believe members of the Court wanted to chop off some eight year old’s hand simply because he stole some food for his starving family. She felt that such a punishment did not fit the crime, and was even outdated. Shouldn’t Hell’s standards be up modernized? Or was her new residence still living in the Medieval Ages while Earth had progressed into what it was now? But then again, Hell was a kingdom, not a democracy. Whatever Andrew said was the law of the land, whether people liked it or not.
Harleen still couldn’t believe that she was married to him. Every now and then, her left thumb would reach over and brush the cool metal that resting on her ring finger, and suddenly she would remember that Andrew wasn’t her friend from high school. He was her husband. She had no idea why she wasn’t that upset with him either. It was nice to finally be away from her old life, especially her uncle. She was more mad at him than Andrew. Given the fact that they had known each other from before and he hadn’t hurt her…
Dancing With the Devil (The Devil #2) Page 3
