The Darkest Promise. Gena ShowalterЧитать онлайн книгу.
chest puffed up with pride. “The plants fear me. With good reason.”
Gorgeous warrior. His strength tantalized and tempted her. I burn for him right back.
I’m doomed, remember? He’s not for me.
As their group motored forward, Lazarus said to Viola, “Where’s your pet?” His gaze slid to Cameo. “Princess Fluffy—whatever gnawed off my hand at our first encounter.”
“Did you retaliate?” she asked.
Urban and Ever burst into tears, and Cameo withered. Right. The two were no longer covering their ears. Better zip her lips.
Lazarus flicked the children an irritated glance. As if he were protective of Cameo’s feelings. Had to be a misinterpretation on her part.
“I could have retaliated,” he said. “Quite easily. Instead, I chose to forgive the slight.”
Her brow knit with confusion. “Why?” Forgiveness clearly wasn’t his thing.
“My reasons are my own.”
“And probably manillogical. Meaning ridiculous,” Viola said. “As for Fluffy, he’s chasing a hideous beast who’s been following me for weeks. A fun game of hide-and-seek.”
The children decided to play a game themselves, throwing and catching a small rock. Urban threw it first, flames erupting from the ends of his fingers.
Ever possessed the opposite ability. She sprouted ice, dousing the flames.
They were opposites in many other ways, but they were also two halves of a whole, complete only with each other.
Oh, to have a devoted partner in crime.
Cameo’s gaze slid to Lazarus, and lingered on the bulge of his biceps. One small vein glinted silvery white in the moonlight. The desire to touch registered a split second after she’d already reached out.
Without turning in her direction, he captured her wrist, his long, strong fingers forming a hot brand and unbreakable shackle. As electricity arched between them, her heart galloped, a racehorse headed for an invisible finish line.
A low growl rose from his chest, echoing through the trees. Birds took flight, squawking in protest, and leaves wrinkled as they drew back.
“No touching in public.” Lazarus released her.
“Why?” Minutes ago, he’d said he wanted her. Now she wasn’t allowed to caress him in front of other people?
He’s embarrassed of you. Misery cast a dark shadow over her thoughts and wrapped her in sorrow.
The tears she’d so often caused in others welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back.
His spine rigid and his stride long, Lazarus moved ahead to claim the lead. Cameo and the others followed him through the rose garden, past the statues she’d admired earlier and into the palace. The children stopped playing, stopped laughing.
Her misery was already spreading, affecting those around her. The knowledge only added to her sorrows.
Viola threw open her arms and shouted, “I’m here at last. Drink me in.”
Lazarus escorted her and the children to a spacious room. “Rest,” he said. “Food will be brought to you.”
He shut the door before the trio could protest. As two guards raced from the shadows to stand sentry at the door, he strode down the hall, turned a corner and stopped at Cameo’s door.
Tension radiated from him and thickened the air, air sweet with his scent and sultry with his delicious heat. Breathing became more difficult, as if she were trying to inhale molasses.
“Invite me in,” he rasped.
The change in him devastated her senses. She licked suddenly dry lips. “Why? Minutes ago, you couldn’t stand my touch.”
“Untrue. We were in public, and you were about to touch a...wound.”
He’s not embarrassed of me. “I’m sorry, Lazarus. I didn’t know.”
He took a step toward her, invading her personal space. “I want a night with you, sunshine. From sundown to sunrise, I want to make you scream with pleasure.”
The blatant sexuality of his claim nearly knocked her off her feet. He’d meant what he said and would do as he’d promised; she had zero doubts about that. His dark eyes sizzled with lust and challenge.
Must decline. But why?
His dislike. Her memory loss.
Um, surely she had more than two reasons?
Only need one. “No,” she croaked.
Without missing a beat, Lazarus took her by the hips, swung her around and pressed her against the door. “Have dinner with me, then. Give me a chance to sway you.”
Misery hissed.
Cameo chewed on her bottom lip. “Why do you want me?” Why not go for Viola, the surer thing?
“Desire is a beast more insidious than your demon.”
In other words, he didn’t want to want her. And she couldn’t blame him!
She should lock herself in her room, end the madness. Problem was, she would only buy herself an hour, maybe two. He was a warrior, and walking away from him would incite him to battle. He would only come after her with greater fervor.
What harm could food, conversation and a little innocent flirting do? He would never breach her resolve. She, too, was a warrior. Yes?
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll have dinner with you.”
“Step five: Plan an attack. Trash it and plan another. Trash that one, and act without planning. If you surprise yourself, you’ll surprise your enemy.”
—How to Achieve Victory
Subtitle: Except with Lovers and Their Family
Cameo’s heart thundered against her ribs as Lazarus led her into the bedroom. She stopped short, dumbfounded.
Damn him. He’d planned ahead.
Servants were lighting candles here, there, everywhere. A small, round table had been brought into the room and covered with dishes. The scent of sweetmeats and candied treats teased her, and her mouth watered.
Misery had curtailed her appetite for years, and yet her stomach rumbled, a sign of hunger she wasn’t used to feeling. Usually, when she spent time away from her friends, she had to set an alert on her phone to let her know mealtime arrived.
Never breach my resolve? I’m an idiot.
“You are not an—” Lazarus began.
Erecting a mental shield, she pressed a finger against his lips. “If you respond to my thoughts one more time, I’ll insist on eating alone.”
He nipped at her fingertip, his straight white teeth sinking into her tender flesh. She barely noticed the sting...but gasped as he licked the same spot, her cells buzzing. Languid heat consumed her.
“Out,” he barked, never looking away from her.
The servants dashed from the room. The males wore T-shirts and jeans while the females wore cashmere sweaters and lightweight pants. I call foul! Lazarus only dressed his pretties scantily while everyone else got to wear whatever the hell they wanted?
“You are no longer in charge of my wardrobe,” Cameo informed him. “Sexable women aren’t your personal Barbie dolls. Some of us prefer to wear