A Rivalry of Hearts

Chapter 20

After my eventful time in the Solar Court, I need a few days to relax and recover. With our next signing not scheduled until mid-week, I’m given exactly that. What better way to enjoy leisure time than at a luxury hotel in the middle of winter? Nothing screams stay cozy indoors more than the Verity Hotel at the center of downtown Vernon, Winter Court.

Our rooms are plush, richly furnished, and heated to perfection. Every meal is hosted in the elegant public dining room or brought straight to our doors. The view outside our windows—falling flakes, streets and shops blanketed in white, towering snow-capped mountains far in the distance—provides a perfect way to enjoy the lovely weather without needing to step outside.

More relaxing than anything, however, is my respite from William. The room I share with Daphne is next door to the one William shares with Monty, but we see little of each other over the next couple of days. I’m at very little risk of William gaining points in our bet. Monty informed us that Vernon is a resort town that caters primarily to human tourists. Here human propriety is valued. There are no rowdy gatherings in the hotel, no opportunities to mingle with unknown parties without formal introductions first. This is not the place to solicit strangers for a casual fling.

Still…

It wouldn’t hurt to check.

A glance at the clock on the mantle tells me it’s just after ten in the evening. I dined with Monty and William a few hours ago, and I watched William enter his room afterward with a tired yawn. A yawn I mirrored just for show. It’s been this way between us for the last couple of days. Faking yawns. Silently emphasizing that another uneventful night shall pass.

Though is it really uneventful?

I know mine is.

But what if William is faking it?

He knows I won’t use my free pass unless it’s for the sake of sabotage. If he wants to steal a point when I least expect it, it would be now.

I pad across my room’s soft cream carpeted floors to the oak wardrobe. From inside, I extract one of the burgundy velvet robes stocked within. I wrap it around my chemise and proceed to my door. Pressing my ear against it, I listen for footsteps in the hall. Thankfully, Daphne isn’t here to poke fun at my strange behavior. She’s spent much of her time outdoors since we arrived in Vernon. Turns out, the pine marten is fond of snow.

Hearing nothing out of the ordinary in the hall, I crack open my door and peer out. The lamps are dim, casting the ivory-and-sage brocade walls in a soft golden glow. An hour ago, I heard the telltale sound of William’s door closing, which means either he or Monty—or both—left their room. I tried peeking then, but all I caught was a flash of movement as a figure rounded the hall. It’s possible it was only Monty leaving to join the men smoking and drinking in the dining room after hours, and it’s equally possible he returned without me hearing him.

But what if it was William?

What if he managed to subvert the hotel’s strict rules of propriety and secured himself a lover? If both he and Monty left at the same time, William could have returned before his roommate for a quick tryst. I’ve been writing at my desk all evening, my attention half attuned to the adjoining wall. No sound has stood out, but what if the walls are well insulated? What if they’re enchanted to muffle sounds? Just because I heard William’s door close once doesn’t mean I’ve caught everything else.

I open my door wider and glance down one end of the hall, then the other. Empty. On silent feet, I tiptoe to the next door over and press my ear to it. I listen.

Listen.

Listen.

But all I hear is the pounding of my heart. I slow my breathing, angle my head, press in closer?—

“What are we listening for?”

A strangled yelp erupts from my throat as I whirl around. How the hell did William sneak up on me? Even going so far as to press his ear to the door right beside me without me hearing a damn thing? He chuckles and takes a sip from a tumbler he holds in one hand, then reclines against the door frame.

He arches a brow. “Spying on me, love?”

I take in his dark mussed hair, his open collar and waistcoat. Terror surges through me as I consider whether he dallied with someone in their room instead of his. Don’t the terms of our bet require that our acts of physical intimacy are exchanged behind our own bedroom doors? Yet that doesn’t mean William can’t seek pleasure for the sake of it alone. A tide of fury washes over me at the thought, so sharp I have to cross my arms over my chest to keep it contained.

“Goodnight, Mr. Haywood.” I march past him toward my room, but his arm comes around my elbow. Halting in place, I glare up at him. “What?”

He smiles down at me, swirling the emerald-green liquid in his tumbler with his free hand. “Aren’t you here to tell me something?”

“What could I possibly have to say to you?”

He pretends to ponder, then takes a sip of his drink. “Oh, I don’t know. Two words, perhaps. That’s the reason you’re listening at my door, isn’t it? You want to redeem your free pass. You’re ready to use me.”

“That’s not it at all,” I say, but my words come out thick.

“Then why are you here?”

“I…I was just wondering where you and Monty might be.”

He downs the rest of his libation. “We were drinking. Well, I was drinking. Monty was smoking.”

I glance at his loose state of dress again, then the fall of his hair, sticking out at odd angles behind his pointed ears, in a way that looks more alluring than slovenly. The infuriating fae is sex incarnate, whether he’s dressed in a full suit or with liquor on his lips and his buttons undone. “That’s all you were doing?”

A corner of his mouth curls. He blinks at me, slow and heavy. “I was drinking a lot.”

My chest loosens, and my breaths come easier. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen him in such a state since our first night in Floating Hope before I got acquainted with Cloud Dive. He was adorably drunk that night…until I got more drunk. At Somerton House, he only had a few drinks and didn’t seem at a loss of faculties. But now…yes, I suppose inebriation explains his mussed state. I hate how charmed I am by it. How relieved I am that he wasn’t with a lover.

Then again, I have every right to be relieved. I’d like to keep my one-point lead for as long as I can. After I redeem my free pass, I’ll have a two-point lead.

That’s all the comfort I need for now.

I uncross my arms and square my shoulders. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Weenie.”

I ignore him and continue to brush past. He reaches for my elbow yet again, but his moves are clumsy. His fingers come around the belt of my robe instead. My momentum has my sash untying with the next step I take. I pull up short, but the burgundy velvet is already falling from my shoulders. My first instinct is to cover myself, but I’m distracted when William fumbles his empty glass. I abandon my concerns for my robe and reach to catch the tumbler. He lunges for it at the same time. Our fingers collide, knocking the glass to the side. It falls safely and unharmed to the soft rug beneath our feet.

While my fingers are tangled in William’s.

I don’t know how to react. My eyes lift to his, only to find him slack-jawed and drinking me in from head to toe. Shit. My open robe. Again, I think to cover myself, but his expression has me reconsidering. The sight of me put that look there. Did it also make him clumsy? Did he drop his glass because he was so shocked at the sight of my robe unraveling?

Instead of pulling the velvet closed over the front of me, I shift slightly, encouraging it to slide further down my shoulders, revealing even more of my chemise. Let him see all of it. Every inch of the white muslin that covers all that he cannot have tonight. His fingers tighten around mine.

I step back slightly, giving him an even greater view, but his eyes are on mine now. “I’ll have my hand back, William.”

Wicked delight plays over his face, and he tugs my palm, forcing me to take a step closer. “Let me give you a proper goodnight first.”

I swallow hard. “What do you mean?”

He holds my eyes and lifts my hand. Then he lowers his mouth to my knuckles. I suck in a breath, recalling how he licked my neck in the train compartment. Hardly an hour goes by without me thinking about it, and now the memory caresses me like a lover. The thought of memory-lovers reminds me of the shadow-lover I fantasized about when William had me against the wall outside my dormitory room. Now there are three of him in my mind. A shadow of heat at my back, a tongue flicking up the column of my neck, and the version of him who stands before me, radiating his undeniable allure. He brushes his lower lip over the curve of one knuckle, then the next. A gesture that should be chaste yet is somehow one of the most erotic things anyone has done to me. Heat pools between my thighs, and his earlier words blare through my mind.

Use me.

Use me.

Use me.

He presses his mouth fully over the back of my hand. I nearly protest when he straightens, but I let my fingers slip from his.

“Goodnight, Weenie.” With a wink, he turns away, retrieves his glass from the floor, and strides to his door.

Belatedly, I force my feet to move, fleeing to my own door. I pause, gripping the handle but not turning it. A glance to the side shows William is doing the same. He lifts a brow in question, a silent dare to redeem my pass. To call him over to my room so he can show me all the other places he might caress with his lips. I’ve already lost my senses at the feel of them on my neck and hand. How much better might they feel on?—

I clench my jaw and force the thoughts to recede. Force the heat pulsing at the apex of my thighs to stop giving me unnecessary ideas and save them for when I can truly sabotage William with my free pass.

My desire doesn’t relent, it only builds and burns, but I at least gather the resolve to open my door.

“Goodnight,” I mutter and rush inside my room, slamming the door behind me harder than I intended. My legs are weak and trembling as I scurry to my bed. I fall upon the plush blankets and cast a glance around the room to ensure Daphne is still out. With no sign of my furry roommate, I plunge one hand under the hem of my chemise, seeking the slick aching center of me. The other hand I bring to my lips, pressing them to the place William kissed, stifling my panting breaths while I work my much-needed release.