26. Camilla
When Bishop and Kovu walk into the room after their chat with Crew, there’s a tension in the air I haven’t experienced with them before. We don’t spend much time talking normally, but we’ve come to live in a comfortable silence, and when we do speak, it’s natural.
But the way the two of them watch me with keen interest has me on edge. Kovu’s sitting beside me on the bed as he does so often, his body spread out and his thigh resting against mine. His warmth is almost overwhelming even through his jeans, but I try to keep my focus on the television in front of me.
Bishop’s sitting in the chair on my other side. His fingers tap against the armrests in a rhythmic motion that is as annoying as it is entrancing. The tension in his jaw seems to grow with each minute that passes, and the more time I spend sitting between the two of them, the more on edge I feel.
“What happened when you made me come back in here?” I finally ask when I can’t take the silence any longer. I’ve spent my entire life being underestimated by everyone except my father, and right now, that’s the last thing I need. They’ve just dropped a bomb on me. The knowledge that as soon as I’m well enough to protect myself, I’ll be sent back to lead my family legacy, and the men I’ve started to grow attached to will become the people who keep myself and my organization in line. I’m trying to tell myself that’s not what has me upset, that the idea of taking my father’s place and being at the mercy of his enemies is what’s weighing on me, but that’s just not the case. I’m upset that at some stage in the not-too-distant future, I won’t be spending the night with Kovu’s warm body beside me and without Bishop’s fingers brushing through my hair when he thinks I’m asleep. I’m getting attached, and even if I know how dangerous that is, I can’t stop myself.
“It doesn’t matter,” Bishop grinds out.
“Then why does your jaw look like it’s about to snap?” I challenge, crossing my arms across my chest defiantly.
His head snaps around to face me, and the heat in his eyes makes my stomach flutter with need. How does he do that? How does he set my body alight with just one look? “I’d watch that pretty mouth if I were you, love. You don’t know how much trouble it can get you in.”
“Don’t I?”
A chuckle beside me drags my attention away from Bishop, and I meet Kovu’s amused gaze. “You’re poking the bear, Little Lamb.”
“So? I don’t need you to walk on eggshells around me. If I’m going to lead the De Marco family, you’d hope my skin is thick enough to deal with you two assholes,” I snap. I shouldn’t goad them, but I’m doing it anyway, and the excitement that flares to life in my chest is foreign. My life has always been monotonous. Sure, it’s been a life of extravagance and glamour, but once you’ve lived a year of parties and social events, every year that comes afterward is more boring than the last.
Bishop stands slowly, his eyes dark with a mixture of emotions I can’t quite put my finger on, and I can’t help but press my legs together to relieve the ache in my core. No man has ever made me feel so much with so little, but I’m in no position to question my body’s reactions. “Come again, love?” He steps toward the edge of the bed, and it takes all I have not to recoil.
“You heard me.” I shrug. “If Crew thinks I should replace my dad, then he, and presumably you, think I’m strong, or at least that I can pretend to be, so why do you continue to treat me like I’m made of glass?”
He chuckles as he leans down, bringing his face down to my level until I’m staring into his green eyes. He’s never been this close to me, not even when he’s carried me to and from the bathroom. He always keeps distance between our faces as if he’s not sure he can control himself around me. “You’re not ready for the answer to that, love.”
The nickname I would normally find condescending, heats me from the inside out. How can this ruthless man, the one who shows the world his iron poker face, look at me with his emotions shining as clear as day?
I curse my hopeful heart because things with these men will never be what I crave, what I’ve never dared to let myself want as I was trained to be queen. I thought I’d be married off to a man who would stand strong at my side, and not one I chose for myself. Sure, I figured we might eventually develop feelings for one another, but realistically, he would be a public show of strength and someone to knock me up so I could produce heirs to eventually take my place when I inevitably met my maker.
But I never thought I’d have the chance to genuinely like someone. To have feelings beyond those of obligation.
“What makes you think you have a say over what I’m ready for?” I challenge, leaning forward until Bishop’s breath whispers across my cheeks, and his whiskey and cinnamon scent envelops me. It should be a sin for a man to smell like this. “Haven’t men made enough decisions on my behalf recently? When do I get to start making decisions about my own life?”
His eyes burn into mine, like he’s trying to read my mind, trying to work out how far he can push me after I’ve been through so much. It’s fair, I suppose. I have been through a lot in the last week, and my body is all the evidence he needs for that. I haven’t given myself the chance to feel through my emotions about the fact my father is dead. The only parent I had left. The man who taught me to be the queen I was always meant to be. But those emotions will come.
I guess I got good at pushing uncomfortable emotions down after my mother died. It wasn’t long after she took her final breath that Dad started preparing me for my role. It’s like her death made him realize how fragile life is and that he needed to have a plan in place, even if I was eight at the time.
“We don’t want to see you hurt,” Bishop admits. “That’s why we treat you like you’re made of glass.”
I stare at him for long moments because I didn’t actually think he was going to tell me, or at least didn’t think he was going to tell me the truth. The man is known for his ability to lie through his teeth, but I know with every fiber of my being that he’s telling me the truth right now. “Why?”
He lets out a breath, and for a second, I think he won’t answer. He’s already told me more than he likely wanted to. “That’s the question on everyone’s mind, love. Why do the city’s most powerful men care so much about a woman who could be the end of everything we’ve built?”
Before I get the chance to say anything or even think through the words he’s just spoken, for that matter, Kovu chuckles beside me, and I turn to face him. I almost forgot he was here. I don’t know how, because aside from Kaos, he’s the most intimidating man I’ve ever met in my life, but his amusement is written all over his scarred face. “I’m going to need a fucking cold shower or to kill someone if you two don’t cool it with the tension.”
My eyes widen, and I feel Bishop’s lips touch the shell of my ear. “In case you hadn’t realized, Kovu gets off on blood and violence.”
Why is that so fucking hot?