Page 98 of The Royal Art of Revenge

Neither of us say a word as he pays equal attention to each finger. It’s strange, standing here in the dark having him touch me so intimately. There’s nothing sexual or heated about it. It’s soft and deep, the kind of touch that reverberates through my whole body with nothing but tenderness.

“Is that better?” He brushes the pad of his thumb across my palm, tracing its movement with his gaze.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He nods slightly. “Does it make you feel better? Doing this?”

Ah.

I… don’t want to answer that.

“You don’t have to answer that. Forgive me. It was insensitive.”

“No. I, um. Yes.” I close my eyes as my heart thumps. “It… grounds me. It’s a control thing, I guess.”

“Okay.”

I open my eyes and look at him. “Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to tell me to stop doing it?”

“I’d wager that if it were that easy, you’d have already found an alternative method to help you.” He raises my hands one by one and presses a warm kiss to each palm. “I do wish you would, but only because I hate the thought of you hurting yourself. Especially because of people like your father.”

“I want to,” I whisper, dropping my chin and focusing my gaze on where the hem of my dress brushes against his shiny shoes. “I hate it. I don’t want to do this. I just… I can’t just stop.”

“I know. I understand.” Another kiss to each palm. “Let’s deal with this issue with your family, then perhaps we can return to this conversation.”

I nod. “That sounds good.”

“Okay. Good.” He drops my hands and cradles my face, kissing my forehead. His lips linger there for a moment, and I lean into his touch, letting his signature warmth flood me with calm. “Do you want to go back out there for a little while, or shall we call it a night?”

“Let’s go.” Regrettably, I pull away from his warm embrace and look up at him. “Do I still look presentable?”

Something twinkles in his eyes, and he smiles crookedly. “The most beautiful woman I’ve kissed tonight.”

“Oh? Are there many women on the receiving end of your kiss, Your Royal Highness?”

“No. Only one.” He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him, making my cheeks prickle with heat. He lightly touches his lips to mine, still smiling, and says, “Only one who’s ever had one. Only one who ever will.”

“That’s right,” I murmur against his mouth, grabbing the back of his neck to hold him against me. “Don’t forget it, either.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – FINN

Rage.

It’s all I’ve felt for hours.

Ever since I walked out of that ballroom and saw that bastard who calls himself a father getting ready to raise his hand against his daughter.

Against my fiancée.

My Harriet.

I have no idea what the fuck he was thinking, but thank God Valentina got me when she did. A few seconds later, and I’d have been walking into a completely different scenario.

One where I fear I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.

I’ve never seen William Sinclair that angry in my life. I have no doubt he would have followed through and hit her in the heat of the moment, and that’s exactly what’s feeding this simmering anger in the pit of my stomach.

Not even my stomach.