Evander approached me and flashed me a dazzling grin as he offered me his elbow. I rolled my eyes at how calm he seemed. What were the chances that I, the human, died during this trial, while he, the fae, made it out alive?
I was no mathematician, but I was willing to bet they were favorable.
Good to know this ordeal would work out well for Evander. I would die, and he’d be free to chase after that poor woman who clearly didn’t want him.
“Take it,” he hissed through his grin, which I now realized wasn’t for me at all, but for the crowd. Maybe he was concerned after all. “Please,” he added, hastily.
“This is ridiculous. It’s not as if you’re escorting me to a ball.” But I laced my hand through his arm anyway. I couldn’t help but notice that the sleeves on his shirt were thin, hugging against his taut muscles where my hand rested.
Heat warmed my face, and I had a difficult time not noticing the firmness of his arms. Goodnight, did the male press tree trunks in his spare time, or were fae just born like this?
The prince strode toward the stairs at the bottom of the first obstacle, taking me with him. “Perhaps if you had attended the original ball, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Because I might have met you and been so bored with your company that I never would have considered bedding a human.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He cocked his head at me. “I said wedding a human. What did you think I said?”
I jerked my head to glare at him, at that plastered smile on his face. I opened my mouth to retort, but then the wrinkles around his eyes joined his smile.
He was teasing me.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I did.
CHAPTER 17
EVANDER
When I’d first offered my arm to Ellie Payne, her touch had been feather-light, as if she feared that the feel of her hand against my bicep (with a layer of fabric between them, mind you) would send my mind spiraling in a cascade of rakish fantasies.
I sometimes wondered who had first perpetuated the belief that sex was all we males were capable of thinking of.
That being said, Ellie Payne did look ravishing, but I found that fact more frustrating than enticing.
Someone had had the audacity to stick her in a dress after I had specifically asked the tailor to hem her a pair of trousers.
Normally, I tried not to be that guy. The rich cad who dressed his women like they were racehorses meant to be paraded. I’d had the tailors make a set of gowns for Cinderella, but I’d done it because I didn’t know if she’d have anything to wear when she returned to the castle. Of course, it had been Ellie who’d ended up in that dress, the night she’d mortified me in front of my mother…
Anyway. This was a trial, and pants were in order.
My irritation rose when I noticed that not only had they put in her in a dress; they’d put her in a layered dress—the kind with enough fabric around the skirt to fuel Collins’s oven.
We reached the steps that led to the first platform, and I almost groaned when Ellie lifted her skirts and I caught a glimpse of satin slippers on her feet.
My father had most definitely had a part in this.
Did he want Ellie alive or not?
Next to me, Ellie scoffed. “Really? We’re about to face our almost certain deaths, and you’re trying to steal a look under my dress?”
I let out a steadying breath. Actually, I was calculating your chance of survival based on your footwear. You know, because I was concerned for your safety. My apologies for stepping outside my public image of mindless sex-mongerer for a breath of fresh air.
I voiced none of that, of course. Instead I swallowed my annoyance, flashed her a well-practiced grin, and said, “What can I say? I’m an ankle guy.”
The way Ellie’s tongue groped for a response that never came was worth the ankle-fetish gossip that would certainly ensue.
As we ascended the platform, Ellie seemed to cast aside any scruples she might have previously held regarding clinging to me. By the time we reached the top, her delicate touch had morphed into a desperate grip, and I was pretty sure she’d grown claws somewhere between the ground and the top of the steps.
On the platform, we were now flush with the lower level of the crowd. Every time Ellie fidgeted, which was approximately every time I counted to two, the wooden platform groaned.
Forget the shoes and the dress.
Ellie Payne was going to tremble herself off the edge of this platform.
I couldn’t help but frown. “You don’t like heights?”
She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “It’s not heights I mind. I’d just prefer to be on a more stable surface.”
“So you’d be alright with the mountains?”
She almost looked like she wasn’t going to answer, like it was a stupid question that shouldn’t be graced with a response. But then… “Mountains are about as stable as things get.”
“Good. It would have been a shame if I’d found out I was marrying a beach girl. I was hoping we could honeymoon in the Kobiis.”
She snorted, but her lips broke into a smile, clearly disarmed by the ridiculous notion of the two of us honeymooning together. I grinned right back. “Better?”
