5
I wasn’t challenging Prince Donovan, far from it.
I wanted to clear the air, or somehow stop dancing around his desire to be my anchor, to be mine.
Prince Donovan clearly wasn’t the type to be pushy; he was quite content to go at my pace.
Which was incredibly strange to me as every other male in my life had been pushy, often to my detriment.
So it was odd to need to push the topic when I’d never in my life done so.
Prince Donovan’s lust spiked and I could see it, almost feel it in its intensity.
Or perhaps that was my own desire rising to the challenge.
I wanted this man, to the point it scared me.
He represented everything in my life I’d yearned for and found impossible to have: safety, protection, and true affection.
I thought such things were a fantasy and truly, most of the time being with him felt like a delusion—a fever dream to help me survive my horrific circumstances.
Surely this man had to be a figment of my imagination.
His hand lifted, gently touching my cheek, thumb sweeping just under my bottom lip.
The single touch almost undid me. The tenderness, the affection that chased the physical reaction had my knees shaking.
I could hear my breath catch, knew he could see how undone that simple touch had made me, and although my cheeks flushed, I couldn’t look away from him.
“A dangerous choice, to leave it in my hands,” he rasped, bending over me. His voice was a dark purr as his lips grazed mine. “If left up to me, you’ll never leave.”
Soft lips against my own, hot and demanding.
I groaned into the kiss. My hands sought a purchase, gripped the front of his clothes, until he pulled my wrists up and around his shoulders, which plastered me to him.
I didn’t care. I loved the feeling of being so tightly held against him, loved being able to close my eyes and feel him like this instead.
Feel the heat from his chest, his arms wrapped tight around me, the growing desire pressing up against my groin.
I moaned as he deepened the kiss, doing my best to return it. He was just so dominantly male in all the best ways. So confident and eager, and I wanted to latch on to him and not let go.
His lips trailed down to my neck, nibbling, while his hands roamed farther down. I knew very well where he was headed, and certainly didn’t mind, but somehow felt like teasing? “You seducing me, Prince of Havili?”
“For your pleasure,” he purred at me, then kissed the side of my neck before tacking on, “and mine.”
An arousing answer.
Although, dammit, was there even oil in my new house? I somehow very much doubted it. Maybe I should have looked around at Garrett’s shop better. After all, I’d had a feeling this moment would happen.
And I wanted every second of it.
A very loud bang sounded on the door below.
We both froze.
No, seriously, it sounded like someone was trying to break in. What the hell?!
“CHIEF DONOVAN!”
“Shit,” Prince Donovan groaned, untangling from me and hustling down the stairs.
Now, at a guess, I’d say something’d happened.
Resigned, I followed him down the stairs. Prince Donovan had said he handled emergencies, so I should probably get used to this now. Hell, I’d probably be pulled into the emergencies with him, since he seemed determined to keep me.
I was still halfway down the stairs when Prince Donovan yanked the front door open and snarled, “What?”
“Sorry, Chief, I know we’re supposed to leave you alone today, but the situation has got diplomatic repercussions.”
“How far?”
“Wharf.”
I cataloged the man as I joined them at the front door. Average height, dark hair, skin bronzed by the sun. Father of three, midforties, a solid and dependable man with a good aura and gentle heart. Oh, I’ll like him. Hopefully this was someone I could work with often.
“All right, lead the way.” Prince Donovan turned and extended a hand. “Want to see what the job entails?”
“Of course.”
It surprised him, again, that I grasped his hand.
I didn’t know how to explain how much I loved holding hands.
That silent gesture from Prince Donovan offered safety, affection, comfort—all three rare things in my life.
He gave it so sincerely, so effortlessly, that I was in turn mesmerized.
I would not turn down his hand anytime soon.
Prince Donovan paused to introduce us quickly. “Borrowman, this is Jon. He’s a Reader and will work with us, at least to start out with. Jon, Borrowman’s one of my most dependable officers, so if something goes down, running to him is always a good idea.”
“I understand. Nice to meet you, Borrowman.”
“Same. Let’s continue this after we deal with the situation, though.”
“Of course.”
We left quickly, only pausing long enough to lock the door behind us. Borrowman led us three streets over and one down, and it was indeed right on the wharf, a busy enough place any time of the day.
Part of the reason this country was so beautiful was because it was so well taken care of.
People seemed to take great pride in it, and even the wharf, busy as it was, was kept clean.
The streets were swept and there was no garbage about, so while the scent of brine and water was strong, it wasn’t mixed up with anything unpleasant.
The bay was busy with ships coming in and out. Carts passed us filled with goods, and vendors called out as they hawked their wares. It made for a lively atmosphere.
Right up until we reached our destination, that is.
It didn’t take an observant man to realize where the problem was or even who had started it.
Well, the last one was probably more obvious to me.
A young couple faced off with an older man just outside a bright white café, emotions high enough to spark a combustion.
The two men hailed from Orleansa, the scared young woman holding an adorable baby in her arms was Tennoan.
Two cops stood nearby waiting, and a few bystanders looked on, because drama.
“I am Prince Donovan of Havili”—Prince Donovan stood right in the center of the group, looking them over—“Minister of Internal Security. Who are you?”
The old man of the group eyed Prince Donovan like he wasn’t at all welcome. His lines flared with upset, prejudices, hatred, and…oh, interesting, a growing fear. Fear of Prince Donovan?
Yes, but also fear of losing his son?
Naughty, naughty. What had this bastard been doing to his son? I knew it was something, his lines were very oppressed, almost grey.
“I’m Oswald,” the man answered, torn between glaring at his son and trying to make nice with Prince Donovan until he went away. “This is a family matter—”
“The fuck it is,” his son snarled at him. “You’re trying to break my anchor bond and force me home! You’re trying to take me from my wife and child. That is very much against the laws of Tennoa!”
Oh, was it?
Prince Donovan’s expression, darkening steadily, indicated that it was. Wow, this country’s laws protected families from being split up? I knew I liked it for a reason.
I didn’t know any names, so I asked, “Who are you, sir?”
The young man said, “William. My name is William. This is my wife, Alladora—”
Oswald almost combusted on the spot hearing those words. He really, truly hated this girl. The prejudice against psychics was so ingrained he probably didn’t even realize it was the root cause. He was truly awful. Could someone accidentally drop him in the bay?
“Stop calling her that,” Oswald hissed at his son in warning. “I haven’t acknowledged her as your wife!”
“I don’t need your fucking acknowledgment,” William snapped back.
His own temper had climbed into the unsteady zone.
I thought he was about to punch his own father.
“I left home, remember? I escaped you and came here, and I never want to return to you. Remember? That was the agreement we set—that if I left, I stayed gone. So why are you chasing after me?!”
Now, I could answer. Wasn’t sure if anyone would ask me, though. Was it even wise to butt in at this point?
Oswald threw another glare at his son before pulling a smile onto his face for Prince Donovan. “It’s just a domestic argument. I have this handled.”
Shaking my head, I looked at William, at his lines.
Time to open my mouth. “The reason your father’s here is because he can’t leave without you.
Your mother has thrown him out of the house, and unless he comes back with you, he won’t be able to return to her good graces.
You weren’t supposed to actually leave and stay gone, see.
It was a scare tactic that backfired on him. ”
William stared at me for a long moment, then his eyes flew wide with awareness. “Oh! You’re a psychic. You can read all of that?”
“It’s crystal clear. Along with your own feelings on the matter. You love it here, you love your wife and child, you have no intention of ever returning to your parents. Would rather chew off your own foot, in fact.”
William abruptly beamed at me. “Yes! Yes, thank you. Thank you for saying that.”
True fear snaked through Oswald, and it might mean I was a bad person, but the petty part of me enjoyed that.
Prince Donovan watched them for a moment, contemplative. “Oswald. What were you threatening to do?”
“I wouldn’t say threat—”
Alladora piped up with a hard glare at her father-in-law. “He threatened to run a smear campaign against us unless William signed a divorce agreement and left us both behind. Said he’d start by burning the house!”
I wasn’t catching the full implications here because I didn’t know the players involved.
I got that this was important—I mean, it had to be for Prince Donovan to be pulled into this—but I wasn’t sure why.
I did see the anger that swept through Prince Donovan and Borrowman, as well as some kind of…
unease? No, that wasn’t the word, it was like they were somehow connected to this young couple.
There was a sense of almost hero worship there?