Read Online Naughty Little Gift -- A Temptation Court Novella (Temptation Court, Book 1) by Angel Payne - Free Book Online
Authors: Angel Payne
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knows I need to be irked, in order to fight off the tears. It is only six months. It is only six months. I can do this. At least I think I can.
“Shella-bean!”
I jump a little before girl-growling—but continue to hold her tight. “If the bozo goes bonzo, I call the sis-friend-hood hotline.” That is their nickname for our online video chat room.
Brooke nods in approval. “You call it any time, girlfriend. Day or night. Seven hours isn’t that huge a time difference.”
“Says the girl who has not been roused in the middle of the night by the hotline buzz?” It really is one of the most obnoxious sounds I have ever heard—but it can rouse Saynt from a dead sleep, so I know it works.
“Not yet,” she jokes back. “Maybe this is our chance to really test it out.”
And maybe it should not be.
Why am I going to do this? How am I going to do this? I will be living in a world without them—a world as foreign to me as Antarctica, with but a thousand Arcadian dollars in my purse, three suitcases full of belongings, and the promises of a man I barely know.
No. Also not true.
A man…I do know.
A man I have known from the moment our eyes met and our hands joined. As if we had just been two ends of a drawbridge, waiting to be dropped back into place, leading the way back to the castle of us.
A man who, even now, as I dare a glance up, seems to know exactly what I need in this surreal moment.
It is not the strength of his stance, nor the determination in his eyes. They help, but they are not the key.
They are not his nod.
One movement. A sole dip, as forceful as the motors behind him, as clear as the sky into which we are bound, that gives me all the truth of his purpose once more. That infuses me with the bursting belief in it.
That reminds me of exactly what Brooke said, during the hour she and Vy had helped me pack.
I married Samsyn three hours after I was asked, girlfriend—by his freaking brother.
Neither Vylet nor I pointed out that his brother was also her king, and that the reason—at the time—was for Arcadian national security. I do not possess even half as good an excuse, but nor am I committing to Cassian Court’s ring on my finger. It is only six months.
“By the powers,” I mutter, solely to myself.
Six. Months.
When I return, it will be to stand as a maide attendant for the “real wedding” Brooke and Samysn are starting to plan: a grand double ceremony with Evrest and Camellia’s.
When I return, Saynt will be keeping watch over that event—as a full-fledged soldier in the Arcadian Army.
When I return…so much will be different.
Especially me.
I am terrified again. Not even another nod from Cassian fixes it, especially as I turn to my brother, who clenches his jaw and blinks suspiciously shiny eyes. I tug his chestnut hair free from its tie and mess the strands until they’re tangled, but that does not prevent the crushing ferocity of his parting hug.
“I took Court outside while you were packing,” he says into my ear. “Told him that if he hurts you in any way, or lets any fucker in that crazy city hurt you, that contract is null and void—and I will come get you myself.”
I pull back by a little, not sure how to react. I go for the honesty of my curiosity. “Wh-what did he say?”
“That it would not be necessary.” Reluctant grunt. “That he plans on treating you like the treasure you are—and that if you do not feel as such and desire to come home, he will put you on the plane himself, anytime.”
I threaten a sisterly smack by narrowing my eyes. His handsome face does not falter. “He really…called me a treasure?”
“Why do you think I am not blocking your way to the stairs?”
I crush him close again. Emotion floods me, and I shake from the force of it. I am a… treasure . Not just to the guy who has to feel that way because of genetics, but to the man who looks on, emerald gaze gleaming, the rest of his face seeming like a knight reverently
“Shella-bean!”
I jump a little before girl-growling—but continue to hold her tight. “If the bozo goes bonzo, I call the sis-friend-hood hotline.” That is their nickname for our online video chat room.
Brooke nods in approval. “You call it any time, girlfriend. Day or night. Seven hours isn’t that huge a time difference.”
“Says the girl who has not been roused in the middle of the night by the hotline buzz?” It really is one of the most obnoxious sounds I have ever heard—but it can rouse Saynt from a dead sleep, so I know it works.
“Not yet,” she jokes back. “Maybe this is our chance to really test it out.”
And maybe it should not be.
Why am I going to do this? How am I going to do this? I will be living in a world without them—a world as foreign to me as Antarctica, with but a thousand Arcadian dollars in my purse, three suitcases full of belongings, and the promises of a man I barely know.
No. Also not true.
A man…I do know.
A man I have known from the moment our eyes met and our hands joined. As if we had just been two ends of a drawbridge, waiting to be dropped back into place, leading the way back to the castle of us.
A man who, even now, as I dare a glance up, seems to know exactly what I need in this surreal moment.
It is not the strength of his stance, nor the determination in his eyes. They help, but they are not the key.
They are not his nod.
One movement. A sole dip, as forceful as the motors behind him, as clear as the sky into which we are bound, that gives me all the truth of his purpose once more. That infuses me with the bursting belief in it.
That reminds me of exactly what Brooke said, during the hour she and Vy had helped me pack.
I married Samsyn three hours after I was asked, girlfriend—by his freaking brother.
Neither Vylet nor I pointed out that his brother was also her king, and that the reason—at the time—was for Arcadian national security. I do not possess even half as good an excuse, but nor am I committing to Cassian Court’s ring on my finger. It is only six months.
“By the powers,” I mutter, solely to myself.
Six. Months.
When I return, it will be to stand as a maide attendant for the “real wedding” Brooke and Samysn are starting to plan: a grand double ceremony with Evrest and Camellia’s.
When I return, Saynt will be keeping watch over that event—as a full-fledged soldier in the Arcadian Army.
When I return…so much will be different.
Especially me.
I am terrified again. Not even another nod from Cassian fixes it, especially as I turn to my brother, who clenches his jaw and blinks suspiciously shiny eyes. I tug his chestnut hair free from its tie and mess the strands until they’re tangled, but that does not prevent the crushing ferocity of his parting hug.
“I took Court outside while you were packing,” he says into my ear. “Told him that if he hurts you in any way, or lets any fucker in that crazy city hurt you, that contract is null and void—and I will come get you myself.”
I pull back by a little, not sure how to react. I go for the honesty of my curiosity. “Wh-what did he say?”
“That it would not be necessary.” Reluctant grunt. “That he plans on treating you like the treasure you are—and that if you do not feel as such and desire to come home, he will put you on the plane himself, anytime.”
I threaten a sisterly smack by narrowing my eyes. His handsome face does not falter. “He really…called me a treasure?”
“Why do you think I am not blocking your way to the stairs?”
I crush him close again. Emotion floods me, and I shake from the force of it. I am a… treasure . Not just to the guy who has to feel that way because of genetics, but to the man who looks on, emerald gaze gleaming, the rest of his face seeming like a knight reverently
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