Married (13 page)

Constance jolted as if she’d been struck by lightning. Her shoulders straightened, her hand dropped from her chin—but Adam had to give her credit for holding her own against his twin’s attack. Though her eyes went flat, her voice remained smooth and calm.

“Sympathy? Thank you so much, Christiana. That means the world to me coming from you, considering your first marriage.”

If the remarks bothered his twin, Adam saw no evidence of it in her steady gaze. “I doubt you know much about my first marriage, sweetie, though I bet you know a lot about my first husband.”

Constance’s lips tilted in a smug smile. “I met him.”

“You and a horde of other low-level nobodies,” Christiana admitted breezily. “He really did have a type.”

“Maybe he just liked to feel powerful, feel like a
man
, when he was with a woman.”

Chris immediately agreed with a nod. “Mmm, just like a man reaching above his station to prove his masculinity. Amazing, isn’t it? The difference between a man foundering in waters well over his head, versus one who is confident of his standing?”

There it was—a flash of pain in his twin’s eye. Adam caught it, but doubted Constance would. She didn’t know what to look for. Protective instincts rose up, pushing Adam between the women, figuratively speaking, before their tiff could grow any more hostile.

“Ladies”—he spread his faux grin all around—“this is hardly flattering to me, as a representative of my gender.”

Constance spun toward him with a pout, as if suddenly remembering he was there. “Oh, you’re assured of your position, so our observations hardly pertain to you.”

“Assured, yes”—he smiled wider—“unless Suzette takes over my Family.”

Constance’s gaze blanked. “I doubt that will happen.”

Adam merely shrugged. “We shall see. What brings you over here, honey?”

“I came to talk to you.” Her pout expanded.

“Then talk.” Adam gestured for her to do that very thing. “Tell me all about your fiancé, your Family Father, and maybe what’s going on between them.”

Constance blinked. “That wasn’t a very diplomatic way to pump me for information.”

“I suppose not, but Graves has me just a bit nervous where you’re concerned, and I don’t have the slightest idea where Daniel stands on the matter.”

“He doesn’t care, one way or the other.” She stared at Adam for a long moment with a faint frown marring the smoothness of her forehead. Adam let her think without interruption, and she eventually continued. “The Ngozis and Njeles have made an alliance, you know that?”

“I do.” Adam assisted Georgie with many of her Council duties, and would have kept abreast of important political news like the Njele–Ngozi match regardless. It was always best a witch armed themselves with as much information as possible, when it came to Family alliances. “They joined forces to combat the witch hunts taking place in Africa.”

Constance merely shrugged. “Daniel doesn’t like it for some reason, so my marriage to Graves is more important than ever, but that’s just to make the alliance official. I’m sure Graves would have preferred to marry Warner, but that’s impossible, so it’s up to me.”

“Why you, though?” Adam knew, but he wondered if she’d admit to being Daniel’s sister.

She did not. With a saucy smile, she lifted her shoulder. “Why not me? What do I care when the man I
want
to marry will only offer me a position as his mistress, and at least with Graves I will improve my station in life.”

Adam glanced over at Christiana to judge her reaction. She pulled a subtle face that still managed to show her revulsion. He felt remarkably attuned to his twin in that regard, especially as he’d never offered Constance a place as his mistress. He’d only warned her they would never marry.

Suddenly, he felt a great deal of sympathy for Constance. “There’s still time to change your mind, honey. You don’t have to marry Graves.”

“Are you offering to be my groom in his place, Adam?”

“No. Madeleine would never allow it.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Then I won’t change my plans. Graves and I have a lot in common. Don’t worry about me.”

He reined in his good intentions. “Well then, I suggest you return to your groom, as he seems to be searching for you and you’ve spent more time at our table than anyone else’s tonight.”

Constance glanced in Graves’ direction—he was indeed half out of his chair, scanning the crowd. She took a deep breath. “Does discretion do it for you, Adam?”

“In a big way.”

“I’ll find you later, then. When everyone else is asleep.”

“Won’t you be with Graves?”

Constance’s chin jerked. “His bed would be awfully crowded if I joined him.” She rose to her feet, dragging her nails over Adam’s shoulder as she ambled away. “Later, lover.”

Seeing the shudder Adam couldn’t hold back, Christiana smiled wickedly. “Scared you might wake up to find her crawling into your bed?”

“The spells on our bedrooms are in place, so unless something crazy happens, I’ll be safer than you.” He smiled thinly. “Have a pleasant night, sharing a room with Margaret.”

Christiana laughed. “I guess we’ll both be sleeping with one eye open.”

Chapter Eleven

Georgie

Graves waylaid her in the upstairs hallway.

Georgie slowed her steps as she approached him, not having much choice, as he’d positioned himself just outside her grandmother’s bedroom door. The splashes of green lining the lapels of his cream suit flashed like a warning and the emerald walking stick he was never without emphasized the danger he represented.

Georgie watched him closely, wondering what his game was. She’d had plenty of time to digest her grandmother’s words and had to agree that Graves didn’t seem to be lusting after her. He wanted to gain a measure of power over her, though—and that was curious, as she was hardly the most influential female currently residing in his household. If he wanted to bring down a powerful woman to prove his own superiority, Madeleine was a much better option.

Though much better guarded.

Georgie drew to a halt when Graves blocked her way with his stick. “I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight, pet.”

The degrading endearment put her teeth on edge. “Oh? You didn’t appear to enjoy yourself at dinner, Graves. Why, I don’t believe you smiled at your bride even once.”

His teeth flashed. “Why smile at her when she’s not the one I want?”

“You didn’t smile at Warner, either.” Georgie’s tone was overly sweet.

His grin left his face and his brows lowered. Graves took a menacing step forward but Georgie held her ground, refusing to show weakness or fear and resolved to figuring out what he was really after.

“I’m a man who likes variety, pet. No one man, nor one woman, will ever keep me satisfied for long. I like to switch things up, every chance I get. Don’t you?”

Georgie lifted a shoulder carelessly. “Why bother searching for more lovers when the one I have suits me?”

The moment the words left her mouth, heat raced down Georgeanne’s spine. Truth locked into place, smashing through all the barriers she’d tried to erect over the past ten years. Silviu suited her. She’d been severely punished for allowing her betrothed liberties the Family didn’t feel she was old enough for, and since reuniting with him, she’d been fighting their bond, fighting the pull she’d always felt toward him, determined to guard her heart after what had come before. She feared it was a losing battle.

Equal doses of terror and hope twisted her into knots. He was fully capable of using her emotions against her, but Silviu had shown a measure of loyalty. It was only the inescapable fear that he was manipulating her that held Georgie back from accepting what he offered. Yet she knew she may very well have no other choice
but
to trust Silviu, considering where they were and who they faced.

Namely, the man who leaned in and breathed over her mouth. “
Does
he suit you? Does he make you scream your pleasure? He seems so cold, pet, whereas I am a hot-blooded man, a leader of my branch while he has no hope of gaining any sort of real power. I can do things to you that will make you a new woman.”

Georgie drew back, but slowly and with full control of herself, giving no indication of how Graves chilled her blood. “A charming offer. One I must decline.”

“Perhaps I shall change your mind about that.”

“
I doubt it
.” Silviu’s icy statement swept down the hall.

Georgie locked her knees against the relief thundering through her. Trust was earned, and he wasn’t fully there yet, but in that moment, Georgie knew she trusted Silviu more than anyone else she’d ever met. She was ridiculously glad to not have to face Graves alone.

Georgie took another step back from Graves as Silviu came to a stop at her side, his hand taking hers and filling her with a sense of safety she didn’t bother to deny. Her betrothed’s fingers were gentle around hers, a stark contrast to the rage banked in his silver eyes as he stared at their host.

Graves tutted and swung his stick casually. “Perhaps I’ll change both your minds, my uninvited guest. Perhaps I’ll let you watch me fuck your betrothed, and then she can watch while I fuck you. Would you like that?”

“As Georgeanne said,” Silviu replied smoothly, “why bother with inferior lovers when we suit each other so well? You’d only be a third wheel, uninteresting and in the way.”

Without waiting for Graves to respond, Silviu reached past Georgie and opened the door to Madeleine’s suite. He pushed her inside and slammed the door in their host’s face, a restrained growl escaping him the moment the locked clicked into place. Silver magic arced out from his free hand to coat the room in a bubble of silence.

“Disgusting bastard.”

Georgie squeezed his fingers. “Yes, but I think I was getting somewhere, before your arrival.”

Silviu bent an irate glare on her. “You were getting yourself invited to his bed, whether you wanted to be there or not. I thought you had more sense than that.”

“He’s up to something and I want to know what. There is no reason he should want anything to do with me. There is no reason I should have even been invited here because there is nothing I can do to help with the Sovereign Bestowal and I certainly didn’t start an affair with Constance.”

“He’s targeting you.”

“To what end?”

“I don’t know yet.” Silviu glanced toward the open doorway marking the entrance of Madeleine’s bedchamber. “Where is your grandmother?”

“She’s still downstairs, speaking with Daniel. Adam’s with her.”

Silviu pulled Georgie closer and she let him, leaning against his chest and tilting her face up to his as he asked, “Will you be staying here all night?”

“I thought I would be with you at night,” she whispered against his lips. “But then I was proven wrong.”

“Madeleine refuses and I’ve forced myself to be patient.”

Silviu’s hands followed the curve of her back. Slipping them down her spine, he gripped her ass and pulled her close, his fingers digging into her flesh and kneading subtly. His palms warmed her skin through her dress while his concern warmed her heart.

Lust erupted and raced through Georgie. She pressed closer to his body and lifted to her toes, slowly brushing her lips against his. She still wasn’t ready to admit her feelings for him, or how they’d been growing, pushing forth from the dark dungeon she’d trapped them within. She wasn’t as bold as Silviu, who dropped his guard when they were alone and let her see all the emotions churning within him. She wasn’t as comfortable making herself vulnerable, and couldn’t afford to yet, anyway.

But she could use her body to show him how she was willing to soften. Not surrender—never surrender—but she could draw him closer and lick over his lips until he understood that she was willing to attempt an equal partnership. Somewhere in the physical, and built on all the pain of their past, Georgie hoped they could find a compromise, where she wasn’t forced to choose between her fiancé and her Family, and where her betrothed never suppressed her authority.

With that in mind, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his and taking his taste deep into her senses. He met her easily, almost passively, as he let her have her way with him. She felt his tension spike, felt his magic surge and felt his cock harden against her belly. Georgie pressed even closer and rubbed her tongue over his, sliding and licking, tasting and enjoying.

A tentative step forward, toward complete trust. She tried hard to find the strength within herself to give it to him. She let all thoughts of his ability to twist any situation to his own ends dissipate in the fire of her need. She loosened her grip on all her doubts and fears, and instead tightened her hold on him.

Silviu twined his tongue with hers and Georgie knew he was about to wrestle control of the kiss away from her. She refused to allow it, needing to give him this moment, rather than waiting for him to bestow pleasure on her. Determined to follow her own agenda, she pulled back from the drugging temptation of Silviu’s mouth and collapsed to her knees. Watching his face, his unguarded silver eyes, she unbuttoned his pants and released his cock.

He was intimidating—straight and firm, flushed with need and promising pleasure. But Georgie remembered how soft his skin was, how hot it had been against her wet folds. She remembered how he tasted when he’d taught her to use her mouth in Poland, and remembered the noises she’d been able to drag from his throat when she proved a quick study. Wanting to hear those noises again, she caught his length, closed her fingers tightly, and stroked from base to tip.

He breathed out roughly, staggered back against the door, and Georgie heard his head bang against the wood. She dragged his pants below his ass and cupped his balls. Silviu pressed his palms to the barrier behind him and stared down at her, his gaze tempting and dark, needful and daring. She loved it—the way he handed over such power to her while she was on her knees before him. The way he stilled and tensed, and let her have her way completely.

Testing the limits of his patience, she teased him. She blew over the head of his cock and watched him jerk. She swiped her tongue down the shaft and listened to him groan. She pressed a gentle kiss to the base of him and willed him to beg for more.