Gena Showalter - Forbidden Craving

“Yeah,” Shaye said. “How do you?”

“Yesterday you were willing to fight me.” Joachim lifted his chin. “Are you still?”

A nod without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Are you willing to relinquish your crown when I best you, thereby proving myself worthy?”

A predatory stillness came over Valerian. He muttered, “I knew it.”

She’d never seen him fight. She’d never seen either of them fight. Joachim possessed the same confidence as Valerian, and yet he also struck her as bloodthirsty.

Could Valerian win?

And what if he were injured?

The thought...displeased her. Because she needed him to remain in charge so that he could escort her home. Not for any other reason. Really.

“What about a game of chess?” she suggested. “Hey. Not that it matters, but are either of you good at chess?”

Valerian’s eyes narrowed on her—and churned with more fury.

“What did I do?” As many insults as she’d tossed at him, he’d only ever smiled at her. But a mention of chess pushed him over the edge?

“You doubt my skill with a sword,” he barked. Then he looked away from her, as if he couldn’t stand her, and that was somehow far worse.

“Such a thing has never been done,” he said to Joachim, his tone careful, even guarded.

Joachim wrapped his fingers around his sword hilt. “Yet such a thing has often needed to be done.”

Well. Shaye had thought tensions were already high. Wrong! The room pulsed with danger.

If she didn’t do something, and quick, the two males would come to blows right here, right now. But what could she do?

Flash her breasts? No, thanks.

Dance a jig, hoping everyone would laugh at her? Bad idea. She had a feeling any dance would be considered a mating dance. No, thanks.

Food fight?

Not great, but not terrible, either. A girl had to make do.

Shaye scooped a handful of the coconut-cream pudding and tossed it at Joachim. Success! The pudding splattered over his cheeks.

As he blinked in surprise—and before she could talk herself out of it—she launched a handful at Valerian.

His gaze returned to her, hot so very hot. And so much better than the fury.

No, no. So much worse!

He gathered as much cream as he could on his finger and licked it away. Her insides quivered.

The reactions this man roused in her...

A grinning Broderick and Dorian leaned toward her...hoping to get nailed, as well?

She might never understand these nymphos. But. Mission accomplished, tensions reduced.

“Why did you do that?” As Joachim straightened, his armor clinked ominously. “Never mind. The answer doesn’t matter. What say you, Valerian? Shall we fight, the winner awarded the woman and crowned king with all the rights the title entails?”

She had to swallow a shout of denial.

At first, Valerian offered him no response. He took her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth. Out came his tongue, licking the pudding on her skin.

Oh, my stars, what have I done?

Delicious heat flowed from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, melting her bones.

Earlier she’d thought she could handle a month with this man. Obviously she couldn’t handle five minutes!

“He declines,” she said with a tremor in her voice. “The woman will choose her own man.”

Valerian leaned into her. “If you think I would risk losing you, you don’t know me at all.”

Was he serious? “Um, like I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times, I don’t know you. We literally just met.”

Frustration and disappointment flashed in his beautiful eyes, and she kind of wished she could take back her words. Even though they were true!

“Valerian?” Joachim prompted.

Without looking away from her, Valerian stood and said, “No.”

His cousin hissed with surprise.

“We’ll fight for the crown, only the crown, and not the girl,” Valerian finished. “She’s mine, no matter what.”

Shaye gaped at him. She meant more than his kingdom?

“Agreed,” Joachim replied.

Valerian splayed his arms, encompassing the room and everyone inside. “What is your weapon of choice?”

“Swords, of course. The weapon of a true warrior.”

“To the death, then.”

“No,” she said, horrified.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Joachim said. “I don’t hate you and never have. We were friends once, as children, but I should have been crowned after my father.”

“And yet Poseidon chose my father.”

“I was too young. Now I’m older. And how long since Poseidon has deigned to visit us? Decades.”

For a long while the two males engaged in a staring contest. Finally Joachim cursed and blinked.

Valerian lifted his chin. “Go to the arena, cousin. I’ll be there shortly.”

“That’s the last command you’ll ever give me.” Scowling, Joachim pivoted on his heel and strode away.

Shaye had to put a stop to this.

“Dorian,” Valerian said, not giving her a chance to speak. “Gather the rest of the men. They’ll bear witness to the battle—they’ll see what happens to those who think to usurp my rule. Broderick, go and prepare my gear.”

Chairs skidded backward. Footsteps pounded.

I can’t believe this is happening, Shaye thought.

She’d been kidnapped from her mother’s wedding—shrug. She’d been dragged underwater, through a portal and into a lost city—yawn. She’d been chosen as the king’s mistress—could someone pass a nail file?

This battle...it was a nightmare.

“I’m asking you not to do this,” she said to Valerian. They were alone now, no one else in sight. “He’ll make a terrible king.”

Valerian sat down and once again regarded her through narrowed eyes. “He will never be king.”

Ugh. She’d insulted his skill again, which hadn’t been her intention.

“So you’ll win,” she said. “What will happen afterward?”

He popped a grape into his mouth. “You’ll admire my strength.”

Probably. Not that she’d admit such a horror aloud.

With a sigh, she plopped into her chair.

They finished their breakfast as if they’d never been interrupted. As if her stomach wasn’t churning with nervousness.

When they finished, he pushed to his feet and held out his hand, palm up. A silent command.

“They are awaiting us in the arena.”

She studied his palm, knowing the moment she intertwined her fingers with his, warmth would rush up her arm. Such a drugging warmth. She would tingle and ache.

Her throat constricted.

She stood, keeping her arms at her sides. “Go ahead. Lead the way.”

He frowned and beckoned her with a single wave of his fingers.

Stubborn, she crossed her arms over her chest.

Their gazes locked in challenge. The long length of his black lashes cast shadows over his cheeks. How did a man with honey-blond hair have such dark eyelashes?

“I need your touch, Shaye.” The words dripped with determination, but drifting beneath them was a very clear challenge: every resistance will be met and conquered until you’ve soared over the sweet edge of surrender. “My victory depends upon it.”

“No way.”

“Nymphs are strengthened through sex,” he said.

What! “I am not having sex with you.”

Not even to save him?

Well...

No. What? Can’t believe you’re even considering this. Death was an exaggeration on his part, surely. A way to get her into bed.

“Contact—any contact—helps.”

“Fine.” She clasped his hand.

The warmth she’d feared speared her, spreading up and out and soon overtaking her entire body.

He closed his eyes, as if savoring her.

Once again, her insides quivered. Such an innocent touch, and yet he affected her so...wantonly.