CHAPTER NINE

L ance teleported back to his room and then barged out into the hallway.

Timmy was stationed at the door, looking all kinds of bored. When he spotted Lance, he stood tall and alert. There was no way the prince and commander were inside the room if the male was so chill.

“SLC De Luca,” Timmy greeted.

“At ease,” Lance responded with a nod. “Anyone else inside?”

He had to ask. If the two of them were inside, he’d need to calm his shit before barging in, and come up with a damn good reason for doing so.

“No, sir.” Timmy shook his head.

“Okay, good. Cool. Sure. That’s great.” Letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, he ignored Timmy’s frown and placed his hand on the scanner pad, pushing through the door.

He froze.

He hadn’t thought to knock.

The door closed behind him with a click then a double click, locking them in. And before him stood Sofia, fresh from a shower, wearing nothing but a towel, her body wet and hair dripping.

“Oh!” Sofia cried, startled, and tightened the fabric around her.

“ Scusi! ” he exclaimed, unsure why he was now speaking in Italian. Yet he didn’t turn away. “I should...I just came to...”

“Let me get dressed,” Sofia said and bolted into the bathroom.

Lance let out a curse under his breath. What had he been thinking? She deserved privacy, and they always gave a little knock before entering.

Stupid ass.

A minute later, she came out wearing the prison overalls which he suddenly hated. He wanted to see her in a soft sweater and a pair of jeans or a beautiful, flowing dress. Instead, it was a stark reminder that she was a prisoner. An enemy of the race.

She gave him a little smile.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

He nodded sternly and took a step closer before immediately regretting it. Most of the time she was fine around him, but now she flinched. Why?

“You have been out drinking?” she asked, surprising him.

He nodded.

“Yes. Why?” he asked, frowning.

Sofia shook her head and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge, looking suddenly sullen. “You should go.”

Lance frowned and crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Tell me, Lance, what are you doing here? Our interrogations are done for the night. You said so.”

Lance stood staring at her. He hadn’t stopped to think of an excuse for coming to see her. He had just needed to see she was okay.

“I...heard you may be...”

“What?” She crossed her arms. “Rotting away in this room while you all decide my future? While you ignore...while you go out and live your life? Tell me, Lance, how many women did you take to your bed this week?”

What?

“That’s none of your business.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. “Then stay away from me. Stop giving me those glances and just stay away from me.”

Like fuck I will.

“What are you talking about?” I know exactly what she’s talking about.

Lance took a step toward her, frustrated with himself for noticing how her breasts rose above her crossed arms, and how her long dark hair was dripping water down the olive skin of her cleavage.

His tongue swept along his lips.

“That! Don’t.” Sofia pointed to his mouth, and he gripped her wrist.

She froze.

He didn’t move.

They both panted as they stared at each other, the air around them sizzling with need, lust, and desire so thick he could barely breathe, the heat of her skin under his hand a taste of what more he could have.

“I can’t,” he groaned.

“Then don’t,” she whispered.

Without letting go of her wrist, he took another step closer, their bodies nearly touching.

“If I did?” he asked the half question. Silence hung between them as he waited for Sofia to answer.

“It would be torture for us both,” she breathed.

He dropped her wrist and nodded. She was right. As his prisoner, as a prisoner of the vampire king, it was his duty to ensure she remained under lock and key and provided the information they required to keep the race safe. It was also his job to provide her protection while she was a prisoner.

And that included from his fucking cock.

Lance carefully lifted his hand and placed it on her cheek. He watched for any fear or reaction, but there was none. “You trust me?”

She nodded. “I do.”

His chest swelled. How could those two words mean more to him than so many others spoken to him over the centuries? They shouldn’t. And yet, they did.

As their eyes did this wordless dance with each other, a connection which had begun to form when he wasn’t paying enough attention grew stronger.

“There were no other women,” he said, surprising them both.

Relief filled her eyes, and his heart began to crack. Then she leaned into him, resting against his chest, and his brain exploded.

He was fucked.