She tugged at her arm. “You would do well to recall who I am, Lord Hadley,” she said, glad her voice sounded firmer than her shaking fingers were at present. “I am queen mother of this nation.”
“Not for much longer,” he all but spat. “That is the future you are discussing with such fervor, you know. What will you do when you have no power, no protection?”
She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Dash seemed to appear out of nowhere. He stepped up to Hadley, wedging himself between them and forcing the count to release her wrist at last. Dash pressed his hands to the other man’s chest and pushed hard.
“Back up,” he said, his tone darker and more dangerous than anything she’d heard from him in all their years together.
“How dare you?” Hadley huffed as he regained his balance against the wall edge.
“I’m calling the guards,” Dash said, shooting her a look.
Giabella caught his arm before he could wave for attention from the guards stationed inside. “Wait,” she said, and lowered her voice. “He was drunk, and creating a scene with him might only make things worse.”
Dash met her gaze and pursed his lips. “Very well, Your Majesty.”
Hadley smirked. “You’re just a servant—don’t forget it.”
“And you are just a fool,” Dash said, leaning closer. “And if you ever put your hands on her again, I will make sure that you regret it.”
Giabella wrapped her fingers tighter around Dash’s forearm, attempting to draw him back away from Hadley. The count might be losing power, but he could still wield it over Dash if he chose.
“Dash,” she said softly.
He looked back at her and their eyes met. He nodded slightly and stepped away, catching her hand to tuck it into the crook of his elbow as he moved her away from the man who had been so bold as to touch her, to grab her.
They had made it two steps away when Hadley called out, “I can see why you might be so interested in those with no rank, Your Majesty. Now it makes more sense.”
Dash released her and crossed back to the man in three long steps. Giabella lunged toward him, but it was too late. Dash punched the man, rocking him back on his arse against the low wall where he then towered over him, blue eyes wild in the moonlight.
“Disparage the queen again and you will be sorry,” Dash said, and then moved back to her.
He escorted Giabella back inside where the crowd was already thinning. She bent her head, cheeks flaming and hands shaking from the entirely unpleasant encounter.
“I must say my goodbyes,” she murmured as Dash moved her toward the door to the reception hall.
Dash shook his head. “They will see you soon enough for the next event,” he insisted.
She didn’t argue. After all, he had been doing what was best for her for years. And she had begun to shake so hard, she feared she wouldn’t be able to do her duty even if she insisted upon staying and trying.
He maneuvered her down the hallway and up the stairs, down the hall to her chamber, where he guided her inside. It was only when he released her to shut the door that the full impact of what had just happened hit her. She covered her face with her hands and let out a long, shaky sigh.
She felt him move even without looking at him, and his arms folded around her, drawing her against his chest, enveloping her in his warmth. She softened against him, reveling in the feel of him against her.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her ear. “I should have come over sooner. I never should have let him speak to you alone in the first place considering his history. That he frightened you is unforgiveable.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Frightened me? What frightens me is that you could have created trouble for yourself by defending me so strenuously. I thought entirely of you, Dash.”
He blinked down at her and then his gaze shifted. His pupils dilated, his hands tightened around her, and slowly…God, so slowly, his mouth lowered. He was going to kiss her again.
And when he did, it was going to shift the world once more.
CHAPTER 6
When Dash claimed her lips with his, Giabella couldn’t find control. Just like the night before on the beach, it was like someone set off a bomb in her body and all she could do was lift helplessly into him as she opened her lips and welcomed him inside.
Only this time they weren’t in public, with guards a few steps away. They were in her bedroom, and if she locked her door, no one would interrupt. Whatever happened would be private.
It gave her boldness, and she deepened the kiss, tasting him, leaning into him, letting him feel how she wanted him without barrier or hesitation. And his hungry response told her he was in no more control than she. His fingers clawed at her back, his tongue drove hard past her lips, he kept making greedy sounds of pleasure and drive and need that made her entire body tremble in a way she’d almost forgotten.
She didn’t want it to end. She needed it not to end.
She pulled away and stared up at him. Their panting breaths were matched, but she still saw questions in his eyes. Hesitations she needed to erase if she wanted this, wanted him.
She moved toward the door. Once there she turned her back to it, leaned against it, watching him as she reached behind her to slowly turn the key in the lock.
His eyes went wide. “Gia,” he whispered.
She shivered at the sound of her name from his lips. He was the only person in this world who had ever called her that shortened version of her name. Like a secret language that bound them together.
A thread she wanted to use to tug him closer.
“Don’t deny me,” she whispered. “Tell yourself it’s only for tonight, Dash. Forget everything else. Just let me have tonight.”
She expected arguments, reasoning, a battle for what they both wanted. There were none. Instead, he crossed to her in three long steps and then pushed her back harder against the door. His mouth covered hers, his hands dug into her hair, sending pins clattering away onto the floor around them.
She gasped against his lips, shocked by how he set her on fire. He made her tremble. He made her feel only like a woman, not a queen or a dignitary or an office that a dozen women had held before her.
He made her feel beautiful and alive, and she never wanted it to end.
His mouth moved from her lips, down the side of her throat. He sucked there, hard…harder…until her fingers dug into his forearms and she let out a mewling sound of desire. She found the buttons along the front of his jacket and tugged them free, shoving her hands into the warmth trapped there, letting her fingers feel him through his waistcoat and linen shirt beneath. His stomach flexed when she flattened her palm against it, and he grunted her name again, this time muffled by her flesh. She felt the two syllables vibrate against her throat and she arched against him helplessly in response.
The jacket crumpled behind him as she shoved it away and she managed to wind her fingers into his cravat, desperate to untangle the knots as he brushed his lips to the hollow of her throat and down to the soft patch of skin beneath it. He brought fire in his wake, making her nerves go crazy with sensation as he sucked and licked and kissed.
She felt his hands on the buttons along her spine. His fingers moved swiftly, surely…but of course they did. This was Dash—the man was a model of efficiency. He would, of course, be the same even in seduction. There was comfort in that. Ease and understanding that she clung to as she finally managed to unknot the cravat and began to unwrap it.