68. Alive in the Shadows
Chapter sixty-eight
Alive in the Shadows
S olveig’s chin dipped, throat bobbing as she swallowed her nerves. Emmerich drew her closer. His moves were delicate and slow, as though he feared frightening her away. His other hand drifted over her hip as he lifted the hand he held and spun her until they stood face-to-face. Gazes colliding in the darkness.
“Hi,” he whispered. Fingertips gliding down the side of her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into the blood-searing heat of his touch.
“Hi.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he murmured, eyes dropping to skate down her dress, sending shivers coursing through her body. “Then I saw you up there on that stage, hiding in the back under the dying light of the sun.” His eyes drifted back to hers again. “And all I wanted was to drag you back into the shadows with me, where you come alive.”
“You think you know me so well?” Her eyes were downcast as she drifted a hand up the front of his jacket.
“About as well as you know yourself.”
“Then show me,” she challenged. Meeting his gaze suddenly as her hand left his jacket and laid across his neck. His pulse thrummed beneath her touch, muscles tightening as he swallowed. He gripped her waist, a mischievous grin lighting his face; before dipping her backward in time with the music that Solveig had forgotten was playing.
“Challenge accepted, Princess,” he laughed, pulling her back upright, their bodies flush as he led her through the dance.
Together, they spun, dipped, and swayed to the lilting melody. There wasn’t an inch of space between them as they revelled in the warmth that flourished around them. Their last dance had been a twisting, sugar-coated dream. This was burning, all-consuming, as he lifted her in his arms, spinning her until the crowd became a daze of blurred faces. Her hands resting atop his shoulders. It was a move she remembered from before and revelled in further as he slowly lowered her once more, sliding every inch of her against him.
Their moves spoke of secrets and whispered kisses. Heat curled within her, as she stared only at him and his eyes that burned with desire. As though both were dreaming of a life, they wanted but couldn’t grasp.
As the music slowed, Solveig could feel eyes on them as Emmerich continued to sway their bodies, moving them as one. The twin beats of their hearts were a song of their own making. It wasn’t until their steps slowed; the sound of their ragged breaths in her ears, cheeks flushed, that the prince dipped her down once more. Right in the middle of the square.
Emmerich bent over her as though a predator holding its prey trapped. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss atop the silver scar at her neck, the chain of her necklace glinting under the firelight. Sparks blistered across her skin at the featherlight touch of his lips. A smile formed as he pulled back, bringing the gasping princess with him. Wrapping her tightly against his chest, she whispered.
“You make me want and hope for dangerous things, Emmerich.”
“Remember your promise,” he whispered into her hair, “that we focus only on tonight and nothing more.”
“Then you’d better fetch me some food, or I won’t last.”
They stayed in the square for hours, sampling the various food and drinks on offer. Solveig returned to the wine and pastries more than a few times.
“Who knew the Princess of Shadows was powered by sugar and wine?” Emmerich joked from where he sat beside her on a perimeter wall. He sipped his own glass of ale, a tray of soft roasted beef and veggies laid atop a garlic butter toasted roll in hand.
“We all have our vices. Mine happen to be sweeter than most,” she whispered, taking another bite of the flaky pastry that encased summer berries and cream. The sugar dust sprinkled onto the dark fabric of her pants like stars. Solveig leaned against his shoulder. A soft sigh escaping her as she tried not to think of how terrifying it was that she felt safe and calm beside the man who was supposed to be her sworn enemy.
“Hey,” Emmerich nudged her lightly, his hand drifting down to grip hers again, “don’t go sleeping on me.”
“I’m not sleeping,” she whispered with a smile, “only resting.”
“If that’s your story.” He stood suddenly, moving to catch her from falling, “Come on, up you get.” He laughed.
“That was rude.”
“Rude would be if I let you fall, which I didn’t. Now come along.”
Solveig placed her glass down on the stone wall, taking his hand warily.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the palace.” He bent to pick up a bag of pastries and a bottle of the wine she had been sipping on all evening. “Don’t worry, I gathered more supplies.”
“Careful there, Prince,” she whispered, eyes shining. “Keep tempting me with promises of sweets and wine, and you may never get rid of me.”
“Maybe that’s my plan.” He grinned. “To give you everything you crave until you realise, I’m on that list too.”