He caught her arm and drew her up, across his body. He kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue and reveling in the mixture of him and her. God’s teeth, but this woman…this remarkable woman…he could scarcely picture what his life had been like before she flounced in and demanded space and time and oh-so-much attention.
He didn’t want go back to the way it had been before. Even though he knew that would happen eventually. There was no stopping it.
Ophelia rested her head on Grantham’s shoulder, counting every long, steady breath he drew in and out. There was something soothing about this. Oh, her body throbbed with need. Making him come undone had turned out to be the ultimate aphrodisiac. The fact that she could still taste the salty-sweetness of him on her tongue made her body hum all the more.
But there was something so peaceful about having only given to him. Not expecting anything in return. She could see it brought him peace, even if it might be fleeting.
She liked giving him peace.
“You know,” she said, lifting her head at last. “I could help.”
If she had softened his edges with her tongue, his entire demeanor shifted now. He straightened up, the man shoved under layers of propriety, the king returning as he squeezed her hand gently and got up from the settee. He refastened his trousers, smoothing himself back into place as if the stolen moment had never happened.
She frowned at how easy it was for him.
“You already did help,” he said, pivoting back to face her, a false smile on his lips. “Very much.”
She wrinkled her brow. “Grantham,” she began.
He turned away. “I have so much to do. May we discuss it later? Tonight. You’re still joining me tonight?”
She nodded without hesitation. “If you want me, I will be there.”
His nostrils flared ever so slightly. “I want you there. Now I must get back to this. You understand.”
She got up from the settee, smoothing herself carefully. She checked her hair in the mirror above the fire, adjusting the places where he had mangled her style as she pleasured him. When she turned back, he was already seated at his desk, his expression lined with worry as if what they’d shared had never happened.
“I’ll see you later,” she said softly as she moved to the door, unlocking it before she opened it.
“Yes.” He glanced up, but only barely. “And Ophelia? Thank you.”
She inclined her head and exited the room. In the hall, she drew in a shuddering breath. She’d been dismissed rather than invited into his troubles. She was a lover, not a love.
She’d do best to remember that or else risk being hurt.
CHAPTER 15
The next time Grantham saw Ophelia was at supper that night. He hadn’t wanted to come, but his mother had insisted, all but dragging him to the table to sit with his family. They were trying to make this better and he appreciated it, but all their idle chatter didn’t work. It was just noise, a background to his worries…and his desires.
It was odd to have the two combined. To have such a weight pressing to his chest but then to look down the table to Ophelia, smiling at something his brother had said, and feel the throb of need, as well…
It made a man’s head spin.
She glanced down at him, as if she sensed his attention on her. She smiled slightly, though her brow wrinkled like she could read his troubles without effort. How had that happened?
She cleared her throat. “I had a question, if the family is up to answering.”
The queen smiled at her. “Of course. Ask away.”
“Well, having been a close observer of your family for weeks, I have surmised that Prince Remington is surely the wild one of your family.”
Remi snorted before he took a long drink of wine. “Don’t underestimate the queen, my dear.”
“Remi!” Giabella burst out, and laughed long and hard. Grantham couldn’t help but smile. Remi had always been able to make their mother’s mask of propriety slip. “Do not reveal state secrets at the supper table.”
Next to her, Dash bent his head, smothering a smile as the rest of them laughed. Giabella glanced at him, and again Grantham saw their connection. Once all this chaos was resolved, perhaps he would have to speak to her about what he had observed. She deserved to be happy, after all.
Ophelia laughed. “I would never ask for state secrets, Your Majesty,” she said, but then she shook her head. “But then again, perhaps I am. Because my question is…what is the wildest thing King Grantham ever did?”
Grantham tilted his head and speared her with a glance, his worries peeling away, yet again. “You assume I have ever been wild, my lady?”
She met his stare and held. “I guarantee it, Your Majesty.”
He blinked as he realized the table had gone silent and everyone was watching the exchange. Bollocks, he was going to cock this up and drag his entire family into it with their loud and unceasing opinions.
He held up his hands. “Are there any suggestions?” he asked. “Ilaria is not here to offer hers, but I’m sure the rest of you have your thoughts. I give full permission to reveal the family secrets.”
Remi snorted again. “That might take all night.”
Sasha arched a brow at Grantham. “I could tell the story about the time you stole the apples.”
Giabella straightened up at the head of the table. “Apples?” she repeated.
Grantham shook his head and chuckled. “You just couldn’t wait to tattle to Mama.”
“After fifteen years, Grantham!” Sasha protested. “And I was certain you knew, Mama.” The queen shook her head and Sasha took a big gulp of wine before she began, “Now, to be fair, the apples did go to the orphans, so perhaps we should call it a Robin Hood tale.”
Grantham smile as Ophelia leaned forward, eyes wide as Sasha told the story of an overturned applecart, a very cruel guard and the future King of Athawick giving the apples to some orphans while Remi distracted the rest.
When she was finished, Giabella told a story of when he was young and used to play tricks of the courtiers. No one named Blairford, but the reminder that he’d always been a thorn in that man’s side was helpful. Finally Remi told a rather bawdier tale of a state visit to their mother’s home country of Everlay and a party that made Ophelia blush.
By the time they were finished, the family was laughing, as was Grantham and Ophelia was shaking her head. “I take it all back—I think your most troublesome family member is the king after all.”
Grantham laughed. “I think you’ve believed that since the first moment you met me, admit it now, my lady!”
She folded her arms. “I shall admit nothing, not even under torture.”
He arched a brow, thinking of all the delicious ways he could torture this woman later. He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we make our way to the parlor for a drink, yes?”
The rest agreed and he smiled at Ophelia before he got up and moved to take his mother’s arm as was proper. They walked together to the parlor where drinks awaited. His mother glanced up at him. “I was so pleased to see you smile tonight,” she said. “You have so much weighing on your heart and mind—that you could have some of it lifted is very good. Something I fully support.”