CHAPTER FORTY ONE
"I—I thought you were Nina,” I whisper.
Adrian doesn’t answer.
His eyes travel down my body, slow and deliberate, lingering on the red lace nightdress clinging to every curve I should definitely not be showing him. Heat coils low in my belly under that stare.
His gaze drags back up to my face, sharp, burning, impossible to hold.
Then he speaks, low and controlled:
“Why were you coming out of Frederick’s chambers that night?”
Of all the things to ask, this is what’s eating him.
I lift my chin, almost daring him.
“And what if I don’t want to tell you?”
My voice comes out soft… and accidentally seductive.
His reaction is instant.
He steps in, grabs my throat lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to command stillness and kisses me. Hard. Deep. Like he’s been st
