He grabbed my chin and lifted my head, forcing me to look at him. He stood so close that I could smell the scent of blood. My head spun. His cold, steel-gray eyes stared at me intensely. I felt trapped. Him in front of me, a wall behind me. I had nowhere to run.
"You've chosen a fierce one," the man by the exit laughed.
"Tastes aren't up for debate," he replied calmly, then let me go.
The moment he did, I instinctively took a step to the side. A smile appeared on his face. At the same time, his fingers tightened around my wrist. Like a steel cuff. I glanced at his hand. Seeing my expression, he loosened his grip.
"You'll have to tame her," the other man chuckled.
"That's my specialty," he answered, never taking his eyes off me.
Then he grabbed me by the elbow. Gently, yet firmly. He pulled me forward. Unprepared for the movement, I stumbled. The sequins jingled wildly. He steadied me with his other hand on my waist. Through the fabric of his gloves, I could feel the warmth of his palm. Once I regained my balance, he let go, leaving only a light hold on my elbow.
"Let's go," he said, pulling me along.
***
Dear Reader...
I'm absolutely thrilled to present to you this fresh, fragrant, and delightful book I've prepared just for you!
I'm eagerly awaiting your reaction...
Yours Czekoladowa...
P.S. You'd better get ready, my Dear Reader, for nights in the desert can be cold, and dangers lurk at every turn. Is your sword sharp enough to handle them?
Jasper stiffens in his seat as I press the metal of the blade against his back. "Don't say a word. Come with me, right now."
Of course, he doesn't listen. I had hoped a dagger to the kidney would be incentive enough, but even the threat of death doesn't graze a Devereaux ego. He turns toward me to argue, facing away from the goon that's been eyeing him across the bar. I doubt he even noticed. The man whispers something to his sketchy friend, pointing at Jasper.
No time for discussion. I grab his arm and press the tip of the knife harder, just barely breaking the skin. He winces, realizing I mean business, and gets up.
The idiot prince seems to finally get the memo, running alongside me until we're a safe distance away.
"What the hell was that about?" his ragged breaths take the sting out of his words. I've never seen him like this before. Cheeks red, chest heaving, hunched over himself on the stump of a tree. For once, he looks like an authentic person. Of course, this is merely an illusion. Jasper Devereaux is an arrogant, entitled dirtbag, nothing more.
I can't believe I just jeopardized my favorite trade spot for him. He demands to know why I pulled a knife on him instead of just telling him he was in danger. I explain to him that the reason for the dagger was glaringly obvious if you consider the way he acted when I did use it. If he was willing to argue with a blade against his skin, there is no way he'd have left that place in good hands if I hadn't forced him to.
I can't help but laugh at the audacity of him to be angry with me for how I chose to save his life.
"You really haven't changed."
His head snaps up at this, and I see his eyes searching my face. Of course he doesn't recognize me. For me, it was super traumatic. For him, it was just another day.
"What are you going on about?"
"This isn't the kingdom, Jasper, these peasants aren't at your mercy." I see the blood drain from his face, and recognition clicks in his eyes.