Page 67 of The Princess Tied

He was warm, and a man, and making her hotter than seemed appropriate in public, apart from the prince’s banquets. One of his hands cradled her jaw and then… she felt John move in behind her, and he laughed softly, and he too held her, around the waist with a hand to each hip, then one hand slowly slid downward to her ass.

“Hey,” she whispered glancing behind her.

“Yes?” John’s question was impossible to answer, here, now, sandwiched between them.

Xander’s hold on her jaw shifted, and he traced around her mouth as he looked at her. “Hello, my beautiful princess.”

An unexpected shyness arrived.

She covered his hand with hers, toying with his fingers, feeling the bumps where fingernails grew, the hardness of old callouses from swordplay or hard work.

He didn’t know what she and John had been… doing. What if she were wrong?

What if he hated that she’d said yes to John, and shared herself with his brother? How could she tell him? Though he must have noticed where John was standing—too close for a mere friend.

His gaze flicked past her shoulder, and she realized Ruth and Shades had moved outside to let them have privacy.

“Thank you, both of you, for coming for me.”

“Of course, we did.”

“We’re brothers. Of course I came, though I had to convince the princess.” He squeezed her butt, and she pretended not to feel it. Not yet. Too soon. This was the wrong place to say such intimate things.

If Xander recalled the vow, he’d decided it was no longer noteworthy.

Then Po remembered what had begun this. A sense of wonder suffused her next words. “I… I woke you with a kiss.”

She could barely believe it herself.

“Mmm. Forgive me, Po, it was his idea.” Xander cleared his throat. “I took the antidote earlier.”

“What?”

“You have to admit it was a perfect romantic moment.” John chuckled.

“Oh! It was not.” Well, a little. “Apart from all the dead people?” Po levered herself away from Xander, then cleared her throat due to being flustered. She backed from her men—and was flustered even more—to think she’d called them her men.

“Who do I hit first?”

“Not me, unless you want yourself to get yourself in trouble and upended, with your butt bared while I do nasty things that will give poor Xander a heart attack.”

That made her brain cease to turn over.

Had he just?

Yes, he had. Open mouthed, she looked to Xander, who was shaking his head at John in exasperated amusement, she guessed, then back to John.

“What have you said to him already?” She swiped loose strands of hair from her face.

All three of them had eyes for each other and nothing else that might be happening.

Which rang alarm bells in Po’s mind. Dead bodies. Thulians. “Where is the Storyteller?”

“He has gone to the nearest port city to seek a ship.” Xander looked at the edge of the coffin and frowned. “Good point. We need to move. We don’t know when the Storyteller will return. Help me out of here, both of you. If you can find another dose to get me properly functioning?

“I apologize for John, my princess. Yes, he has told me much, but I am sure not everything.”

“Not everything, no.” John smirked.