After breakfast, Tess slid from the table and glanced around the hall, wondering if she should wait another minute or two before leaving.

Maybe, if she stayed, Antone might come down for his own meal. Maybe then...

She shook her head. She wasn't sure what it was she wanted out of seeing him, but she wasn't about to grasp for more than he was willing to give. Frankly, it'd be a miracle if the man so much as showed up for dinner tonight like he'd promised.

Or had he promised?

Now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember what he'd said in the garden last night, she could only recall the intense look of concentration he'd fixed on her when she'd been speaking. Then, the gentleness in his eyes as he'd handed over the flower. This morning, though it wilted slightly, she'd fixed it in her hair. Ellaria would hate it, no doubt, but she was beginning to learn that there wasn't much Ellaria didn't hate. At least where she was concerned, anyway.

Then again, Tess was pretty sure she could understand why. Ever since she'd found out about the arranged marriage, she'd wanted to ask the other woman about it, to get some sense of her feelings, but it felt like whenever Tess opened her mouth to speak, Ellaria was already talking over her, moving on to one subject or another where Tess had been failing completely.

Slowly, she made her way down the hall and braced herself for another day of jibes and criticisms. Numb as she'd grown to the little digs, she still sometimes needed to remind herself that the other woman would be her child's aunt and, therefore, could not fall victim to some horrible decorum-related accident.

Closing her eyes, Tess swung the door open, took a deep breath, and then coughed as it caught in her throat. She could hardly believe her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Instead of Ellaria's foreboding, statuesque figure, Antone stood in front of the library's fireplace, apparently waiting for her. His broad shoulders were squared and he looked almost bored, like he wasn't fazed in the slightest by her reaction.

"I am here for your lesson," he said simply.

"Your sister couldn't handle me anymore?"

Antone smiled. "I'm letting her have the day off. Besides, I am better suited to today's lesson than she, I can promise you."

Tess raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Today we learn the traditional dance of our country. The Napoline Waltz."

"I see." She bit her bottom lip and glanced up at him with concern.

The last time she'd danced--in that stiff formal way that her parents loved so much, anyway--had been at her coming out party, and even then she'd had to wear sneakers under her dress to prevent herself from tripping or breaking some poor boy's toe with her heel.

"I'm guessing the queen can't get out of this one?" She asked, the sinking feeling in her stomach growing more pronounced with every passing moment.

"The queen leads the dance at all formal occasions."

"Of course she does." Tess sighed.

"Do not worry, you are going to be marvelous. It is not the same as a traditional waltz. The movements are more fluid, less boxy."

"Right."

"Come, let us begin." He set his phone on the end table between the two huge armchairs, then thumbed the screen. In an instant, a song began playing, slow and pretty--classical, but sultry. Like if a tango had mated with a waltz while having an affair with the marimba on the side.

"Okay." She took a step forward, but before she could do anything else, Antone had already swept her into his arms. Digging back for what little she could remember, she held out her arms in a frame and Antone smiled down at her.

"As I said, we are more fluid here. Release your arm."

She let them fall to her sides, and he traced the length of her bicep with one finger.

A chill shivered up her spine, and then he said, "This arm you will place on my waist as I place my hand on yours. Yes?"

She followed his instruction and swallowed hard as his big palm rested lightly on her hip. It wasn't a commanding touch, not yet, but it was enough to shoot awareness through her body to all the places she'd longed for him to touch. All the places he had already touched, she reminded herself.

"Now, the other hand you do not stick into the air, but you place it on my shoulder, near my neck. Like we are locked in some secret confidence." She did as he said, straining to reach his shoulder from where she stood.

"Perhaps I should have brought you heels," he offered.

'Not if you wanted to live through this," she shot back and he offered her another of his rare smiles.

"Yes. Well, I will do the same." He placed his hand on the place where her neck met her shoulder, and she struggled not to shiver under his touch.

Swallowing hard, she squared her shoulders and said, "Okay. So. Then the music starts."

"Then the music starts. I will lead you through the steps. They are much like the waltz, with a few variations."

"Okay." She nodded.

"Do you waltz?"

The question caught her off guard and she took a moment before answering. "Only when forced."

"You do not like to dance?" he asked.

"I've not been known to cut a rug, no." She looked away and dropped her hands form where they'd been positioned, though she couldn't help but to remain close to him.

Antone frowned. "I am...not familiar with this expression."

She blushed. "Don't worry about it. I'm just saying I'm...not a great dancer. Probably the worst, actually."

"You cannot be worse than my sister, Regianna. She has...how do you say--?"

"Two left feet?"

"Yes. Exactly. There is no worse dancer in the country. Once she hid in the kitchen for entire ball simply to avoid dancing. Of course, it didn't hurt that that was where they were keeping the dessert as well." He grinned, and Tess could feel the affection for his sister radiating off of him.

"She's not much like Ellaria, huh?"

"Not at all." He shook his head. "Ellaria has her positive qualities, even if you have not gotten to see them. She is strong and passionate. She would do anything for the people she loves. But Regianna." Another smile tugged at the corners of his lips and Tess couldn't help but to smile back. "Regina is the soul of sweetness. I will be very pleased for you to meet her."

"Yeah, I, I'll be happy to meet her too." She blinked, letting his words sink in. How had it never occurred to her that these people--Regianna, Ellaria, the king, they would all be her new family? Had she thought simply because they were royalty they weren't a unit, weren't connected?

She thought of her own family, then frowned. Maybe just because people were a family didn't automatically make them connected, though. Maybe this was something these siblings had worked toward. Something they'd been raised with.

Loyalty.

Would her child ever know what it was to have someone born to be on their side? Would he or she...

But she couldn't think about that. Wasn't it enough to stomach the idea of having one baby, let alone more? And if she did have more, wouldn't that mean she and Antone would need too...

Heat rose in her cheeks as she considered the not-at-all-horrible idea of being with Antone again. Ever since the night in the garden, knowing that his faithfulness belonged to her, she'd looked at him differently. Looked at him in a way what made heat and pride swell up in her chest whenever she looked at him.

"Anyway, I've distracted us. Shall we dance?" He took her in his arms again and commanded his phone to begin the next song. It began with a springy, soulful beat that would make anyone want to dance, whether they knew the moves or not.

"Now we're going to start with a basic box step," he said, and like a shot she began to lead, stepping out onto to land squarely on his foot.

He flashed her a smile. "Why am I not surprised you want to lead?"

She bit her bottom lip. "Sorry."

"Right. Now. Follow me as I count. One-"

She moved as he moved, by the time he'd gotten to "three" she'd fallen into an easy rhythm with him.

"Now, this is where things get different." He tightened his hold on her waist, then pulled her in closer, until she was practically flush with his chest. All the while, they continued moving in their square, following the beats closely.

She held her breath, all too aware of the heat radiating off his body, of the way she wanted to take one more step and close the space between them. A surge of need ached between her thighs, and she swallowed hard, trying desperately not to think of whether or not he might feel the same way. If, when she closed the space between them, she might feel his own thick need pressing hard and hot against her.

Suddenly, without warning, he dipped her low and she followed his lead without thinking. She simply fell into his arms, trusting on his powerful arms to carry her weight as she lost herself in the music.

Now she wasn't thinking about how out of control her hair was, or what Ellaria thought of her. She wasn't even worried about what Antone thought of her.

There was only the music and the way they moved within it. He pulled her closed still, and she danced on her toes so they could be cheek to cheek, and then he gripped her harder still, commanding her body with him own. Moving her to his will.

Then, when she'd completely lost herself to the music, to him, it stopped.

She could hear her heart beating. Could feel the stillness in the air.

This was it. She didn't know what yet, but there was no doubt about it.

Something had happened and she was about to find out what.

* * *

Silence stretched between them for a long moment, but he held her still, convincing himself he was merely waiting for the next song to begin.

His heart beat faster as he stared down at her, and he spoke if only to fill the thick air between them. "You learn quickly."

"Funny, I've never heard that from your sister." She smiled up at him and he laughed as the next song began.

This one was darker than the last, more seductive, and as he took his lead, she followed seamlessly, matching him step for step until they were gliding across the floor, perfectly entwined.

"You're a beautiful dancer, truly." He placed both his hand on her hips and lifted her briefly before dipping her backward, so low that her head nearly touched the floor. Still, she didn't so much as bat an eye. She trusted his every move, let him command their every action, and when he righted her again, he noted the slight touch of rose in her cheeks.

Where it was from exertion or desire he didn't know, all he could think of was the last time he'd seen her that way. Naked and willing and stretched across his bed.

To make matters worse, she'd finally worn the white silk dress he'd laid out for her to wear the night they'd arrived.

The white halter dipped low, exposing her cleavage in a way that made it nearly impossible for him to not look down her dress as every move. The hem kissed her knees and as she skated across the floor with him, he fought the urge to grab her ankle and pull her toned calf upward until she pressed against him.

"Thank you," she breathed, and for the life of him he couldn't remember what she was thanking him for. All he could focus on was the shape of her lips. How she'd taste when he'd finally claimed her with his mouth.

Heedless of the music, he danced faster, leading her back across the room until he dipped her low again and her hair brushed seductively against the floor, just as wild and curly as ever. What he wouldn't give to thread his fingers through her hair, to pull her face toward his and...

He pulled her back to standing and then they were millimeters apart, so close that he could feel her warm breath fan against his cheek. It was ragged and raw, and again he wondered. Wondered if it was all for him. If it could ever be all for him.

Then, as if in answer to his question, she closed the little space between them and kissed him.

It was light at first, almost curious in its tenderness, but when he kissed her back, she opened herself to him, teasing out his tongue with her own as they stood there, stock still, while the music swelled around them and the only thing left was the push and pull of their mouths as they sank deeper and deeper into the kiss.

"I..." she breathed, but he didn't want to talk, didn't want to think about the implications of what they'd do next. All he wanted to do was act, and feel, and take.

With one hand, he reached behind her neck and undid the button on her halter top until the fabric of her top fell away, leaving her breasts exposed to him at last.

"Antone..." she started.

"If you want me to stop, tell me. If you do not, then do not speak. Not unless you're begging me for more, my queen."

Shakily, she nodded, and he dipped his head low to take one dusky nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and deep as they stiffened beneath his touch. With his other hand, he trailed his fingers up her legs, caressing the silk of her skin until he found the lace of her panties. With a gentle tug, he pulled them down to her knees, then allowed them to drop as he led her back to the edge of the room, toward the end of one of the bookcases.

Once her back was flush with the wall, he sank to his knees and kissed the sides of each of her knees, then worked higher, moving back and forth until he finally met the juncture of her thighs.

With a shaking hand, she lifted her skirt and he stared up at her as he dipped his tongue inside her, teasing her up and down, up and down.

"Antone," she breathed. "More, more please, Antone."

"Whatever my queen desires." He kissed the little mound above her sex. "My queen will have."

So he spread her legs wider and found the delicate bundle of nerves waiting for him there. With his tongue, he circled the space over and over again until she weaved her fingers through his hair and gripped hard, willing him to move faster, to love her, to suck her. And so he did. He kissed her up and down again and then sucked hard on her clit, desperate to hear his name on her tongue again, desperate to feel the rolling waves of her climax against his mouth.

Instead, though, she cried out, "Antone, please, I want you. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to come inside me."

His cock raged against his pants as he imagined pinning her up against the shelves and losing himself inside her. It was the very thought he'd had nearly every night since the first time he'd been with her. And the first time they'd worn a condom. To have her now, with nothing between them?

It was too much to resist.

Carefully, slowly, he got to his feet and unbuttoned his shirt, watching her as he went. Her eyes were dark with need, her cheeks flushed.

"You're gorgeous, you know that?"

"Antone..."

"No, I want to know that you know that. Tell me."

"I'm gorgeous," she said.

"The most gorgeous woman on the planet, and I want to see all of you. Now take off that dress."

He pulled off his pants and boxers in one tug as her dress became a pool of silk around her ankles. Then, she was finally all his, he closed the space between them and pressed his hard length against her waiting heat.

This was the moment.

He was going to have her.

And after he was finished? He wasn't letting her retreat from him. Not again.