My mind whirled. Then I thought of something.
“Okay, well, um, I don’t like celery,” I told her.
“Noted,” she clipped and then glared at me as she waited for more.
“And, um, my husband doesn’t like that gardenia scent.”
Her brows shot to her hairline. “That is, as you know, your grace, your specifically requested scent. You did, as you know, your grace, make rather a fuss about it last time.”
Uh-oh.
“It’s lovely. I mean, I think it’s beautiful. Utterly perfect,” I lied. “But Tor doesn’t like it so, perhaps –”
“Noted,” she bit off curtly.
Oh boy. She wasn’t melting at all.
“Okay, well,” I kept trying. “I was wondering, if Tor can’t do it, could someone take me for a tour of –”
“The kitchens,” she finished for me. “Of course, it’ll be arranged immediately.”
“No, I meant the castle,” I explained and her head cocked sharply to the side.
“You had no interest the last time.”
Of course I didn’t.
“Well, I wasn’t, uh… myself the last time.”
She nodded once. “Noted.”
I bit my lip. Then I asked, “Where is Tor?”
“He has, as you know, your grace,” she stated tersely, “been away for some time. He has things to do and those things, I hope you don’t mind if I be so bold as to inform you, don’t all involve dancing attendance on you.”
Lordy, but she hated Cora.
“Right,” I whispered.
“So he’s doing them,” she concluded.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Is there more?” she snapped.
“I don’t think so,” I answered.
“Last time, there was more.”
I bet there was.
“Well, if so, I’ll be certain to speak to only you about it,” I promised.
“Fine,” she clipped. “And how long will you be gracing us with your presence this time? Will you be leaving this eve?” she asked hopefully.
“Uh… no.”
Her expression finally changed but only to obvious disappointment.
Yeesh.
The door behind me opened, she looked over my head, her eyes got big and I twisted in my chair just in time for Tor to get there and pull me right out of it and into his arms.
Then, kid you not, right in front of the woman, his head descended and his mouth captured mine in a long, wet, hot, racy kiss that left me with my arms wrapped tight around his neck, my body arched against the length of his and my lungs breathless.
His mouth went away nary an inch when he lifted his head and his eyes found mine.
“Good morning, wife,” he whispered.
My belly melted.
God, how I wished the last word in his sentence was actually true.
“Good morning, husband,” I whispered back.
He grinned and his arms tightened, pulling me even closer.
“How are you this morning?” he asked an outwardly innocent but totally intimate question in a low, slightly husky, intimate voice which meant no one could miss the intimacy.
One of my arms slid from around his neck so I could cup his jaw with my hand.
“Very good,” I whispered and the fingers of his hand that was splayed at my hip dug in.
“How good?” he murmured.
“Very good,” I murmured back.
His grin turned wicked.
The area between my legs pulsed.
“How are you?” I asked.
His fingers dug deeper. “Very good,” he growled and I liked that he was, so I pressed into him.
His eyes went to the table then back to me.
“You haven’t had breakfast?” he enquired.
My hand slid down to his neck. “I think I slept in.”
That got me the wicked grin again. Then he said, “I have things to do, love. Can you find ways to stay occupied?”
“I think so,” I replied, though I wasn’t certain since the only person in his castle that I had really talked to clearly detested me and the rest the other Cora had set to fits of tears or threats of quitting, I was wondering if I should leave his rooms.
“Only stupid people get bored,” he muttered, my body stilled and then I felt my face go soft.
“That’s what my Mama told me,” I whispered.
He grinned at me again, this one wasn’t wicked, it was warm. It was a close call but I reckoned I liked the warm one even more.
Then he turned his head to the side, lifted his chin and asked, “You’ll take care of my bride, Perdita?”
Hesitantly, I turned my head to the side and took in the clearly astonished, pale-faced woman called Perdita who was staring at us with rapt attention and complete shock.
“Perdita?” Tor called and she lurched.
“Yes, your grace?” she answered.
“You’ll look after Cora?” he queried.
“Of… of course,” she replied.
“Excellent,” he muttered, gave me another squeeze to get my attention, I looked at him and he commanded, “Now give me a kiss before I go.”
I tilted my head to the side and teased, “Earning my French toast?”
His brows drew together. “Your what?”
“French toast,” I replied, tipped my head to the table and his gaze followed, “breakfast.”
His eyes came back to me, they moved over my face, something I didn’t understand working behind them then he corrected, “Custard toast, Cora.”
“Custard toast?”
“That’s what we call it.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Yum. That sounded way better.
“Sweets,” he called and I focused on him. “My kiss.”
Feeling Perdita’s eyes on us, I got up on my toes, touched my mouth to his and intended to give him a chaste kiss but his head slanted, he leaned into me, his mouth opened over mine and chaste was a fleeting memory.
I was breathing heavily when his head lifted.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” he warned.
“I won’t,” I panted.
He grinned. Then he stated, “I’m not jesting, be good.”
My head tilted in confusion. “I’ll be good.”
“Like a princess would be good,” he clarified and I felt my eyes narrow.
Then I snapped, “Tor!”
“Cora,” he returned.
“All I can be is me,” I informed him, he stared at me then he sighed.
Then he turned his head to Perdita and announced, “My wife can be stubborn and she gets things in her head. If she tries to save a wounded bird, invite every innkeeper in the city to dinner or the like, stop her. You have my permission.”
“Tor!” I cried, trying to pull away but he pulled me back.
“You’re a princess; you’ve got to stop being so damned friendly.”
“You didn’t complain about how friendly I was last night, three times,” I returned only to hear Perdita gasp.
Crap!
My head whipped around to Perdita and I babbled, “I’m sorry. So sorry. So, so, so, so sorry. That was rude. I shouldn’t –”
“It’s fine,” she cut me off, her dour expression gone, she was, dear God, was I seeing things right? She was smiling and it was glowing. “Perfectly fine.” She bustled to the door repeating, “Perfectly fine.” She stopped at the door and looked at me. Then she floored me by finishing, “I’m glad to see, your grace, that this time you’re more yourself.” Her eyes flitted to Tor then to me, then she lifted a hand and called merrily, “Cheerio!” and she disappeared.
I blinked at the door.
“What’s this about being more yourself?” Tor asked and I looked up at him.
Jeez, did making out with Tor and starting to bicker with him win over the frosty housekeeper?
God, I hoped it was that easy.
“Nothing,” I muttered. Then pushed on his shoulders. “Go, be a prince, rule your princedom, I have a castle to peruse and innkeepers to ask to dinner.”