A Royal Heartbreak (9 page)

When Domenico’s lips parted, she unconsciously leaned forward, an undeniable part of her longing to hear whatever he had to say---or just his voice even.

“Domenico?” Ivory’s soft husky drawl saying his name stung Misty’s ears the same time Lysander gently touched her arm.

The spell broke.

Fuck!
Domenico felt murderous the moment he saw Misty’s eyes widen in horror before quickly turning towards the younger man. He could feel the wolf inside him growling a low warning sound. Never had he been this close to losing his control, but now it was all he could do not to tear the other man’s throat just for daring to look at Misty.

“Domenico?”

Willing himself back in control, he forced his attention back to Ivory. “I’m sorry. Yes?”

“Would you like me to tour you around the realm tomorrow?”

Domenico turned to Misty.

Having heard every word of the brief exchange – which for some reason sounded laden with sexual innuendo to her admittedly jealous mind – Misty tried to pretend she was completely enamored with whatever Lysander was saying. She tried to ignore the way Domenico’s gaze bore through her but then she felt something.

Surely she was mistaken.

But---

Her toes curled.

No, it was impossible. He couldn’t---she wouldn’t---

When her nipples actually started to poke through her dress, Misty immediately crossed her arms over her chest and turned to look at Domenico with a glare.

This time there was nothing charming about Domenico’s smile. Rather it was purely wicked and sinfully sexy, and that smile said it all. He really had been undressing her with his gaze, making love with his eyes, and she had known it! Even after everything he did, Misty still had this stupid connection with him.

His gaze deliberately dipped low, focusing on the expanse of skin that her low-cut dress exposed. She had never really worn something like this with him, but tonight she had felt like she had to look her best.

She tightened her hold over her chest. Misty glared harder.
Stop looking at me like that!

His smile widened, as if saying,
Then don’t wear something like that.

“Is there something you want?” she finally asked, knowing that she would never win a staring war with Domenico. He would just have her end up blushing and aroused.

“I’m wondering if you could take me around the realm tomorrow---”

“I’m busy---”

“---as I have questions about pertaining to its defense,” Domenico ended silkily.

Misty swallowed the rest of her protest. Whether Domenico was lying or not didn’t matter. Anything about the Alliance mattered too much. About to answer, she paused – and took the time to consider what she was about to say or do. This time, she tried to think like Domenico.

Finally, she said, “I think that’s a great idea.” Misty faced Lysander with a smile. “As Co-Ambassador, I think you should come, too.”

“I would love to, my pretty.”

She turned to Ivory. “I’m sure you have other more important matters to attend to, but if you---”

Ivory flashed Misty a lovely smile. “I would be honored to be of help.” She glanced at Domenico under her lashes afterwards, as if saying without words the other kind of help she would be willing to give.

Misty’s fingers curled back into a fist when Domenico returned the smile with one of his own. “We would be glad of your company.”

“Anything for the prince,” Ivory murmured, blushing.

She stood up, unable to bear hearing another sickening word. They were
flirting –
flirting in front of her! “I---”

But Domenico had suddenly come to his feet as well. “A dance, Misty? For old time’s sake?” Before Misty could answer, Domenico was already at her side, pulling her away and leading her to the dance floor.

Feeling all eyes on her, Misty knew struggling away from Domenico would cause a scandal. “I don’t want to dance with you,” she hissed under her breath.

“Too bad,” he answered readily, pulling her tightly against his hard body, causing her to gasp silently because of his heat – and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. As they started to twirl around the dance floor, Domenico easily taking the lead, he murmured against her cheek, “Do you like him?”

She didn’t bother pretending not knowing who he was talking about since that had never been her style. “No.”

He was quiet for a long time, making Misty oddly restless. She almost jumped when he turned to face her, his lips grazing her cheeks. “You could have lied.”

“I know.” She remembered his letter – the words he gave her, and try as she might Misty couldn’t keep tears from pricking her eyes. “But I don’t want to…I’m not sure I can but if I could---”

Domenico couldn’t help tensing. “What?”

“I don’t want to risk hurting you,” she whispered.

He lost his step.

Never ever in his life had he done something so ungraceful, something so alien to who and what he was. But right now, he couldn’t even feel the need to be embarrassed of tripping on his own fucking feet in the middle of the dance floor, in front of thousands of Faeries no doubt keen to judge him at every turn.

Domenico was unable to breathe at Misty’s words. After everything that had happened, how could be she so goddamn selfless and still worry about hurting him? Perhaps the right thing was to give her up. God knew he didn’t deserve her – but he couldn’t. He just damn couldn’t.

He loved her too much.

Domenico roughly pulled her back to his arms, just to keep her close, not even bothering this time to pretend they were dancing. “Misty---even if you did have feelings for him, it wouldn’t stop me. You’re
mine.
Just like I’m---”

Those last words she couldn’t bear to hear, and she pulled away, tears making her gray eyes shine like silver. That he said she was his, Misty could bear hearing. Because it was true – and she feared it always would be true. But those last words?

Misty had a feeling they would always be a lie.

“I don’t understand what you want from me, Domenico, but I want you to stop it. I’ve given you everything so please---please stop this.” And just like before, she ran away from all the prying gazes of other guests at the ball, feeling humiliated once more.  

Outside, Ivory listened patiently for Misty’s footfall. She had a pretty good idea that something big would happen tonight---it was impossible that nothing would happen with the way Lysander Allard seemed intent to bait the Moretti prince.

Her hunch paid off when she saw Misty walk so swiftly past her the other woman probably didn’t even see her. Seizing her chance, she looked at her companion meaningfully before saying out loud, “The prince told me in no uncertain terms that he would do everything to get the human girl back.”

Misty faltered in her steps.

“He wants to mate with her this time?” Ivory’s lady-in-waiting asked.

“Oh no. He just wants her to win leadership of the Lyccan Council,” Ivory drawled, savoring every word that dropped from her lips, knowing that it would draw blood. “Even if it means lying and fooling her again.”

Someone was knocking on her door---in the middle of the night. She had been unable to sleep the whole night, unable to forget Ivory’s words. Once she had ignored such warnings and where had that gotten her? She had trusted in Domenico completely, and that only ended up breaking her heart.

The knock became more insistent. Fearing it was Domenico, Misty slowly went down and looked through the peephole. It was Lysander.

She quickly unlocked her door. “What’s wrong?”

Everything was wrong – with her. For her.
Misty looked like a wreck. Her hair was a complete mess, her eyes were swollen and red, her face blotchy. But somehow, she still managed to look like a delightful wreck in his eyes. Somehow, Misty tempted him even more this way, making Lysander want to make her cry even harder but this time because she couldn’t bear the pleasure of his touch.

“Lysander?”

Fuck. Trying to get his erection in control, Lysander managed a smile for Misty. “May I come in?”

“
Now?”
It didn’t feel right, letting another man come inside her house at this time of the night.

He snapped his lace fan open then raised a brow at her. “Were you already sleeping?”

The sight of that pretty lace fan relaxed Misty, reminding her once again that even though Lysander Allard was one of the most beautiful men in the world, he was still
gay.
She stepped back with a sheepish smile. “Obviously, I wasn’t and you’re gay enough to know why.”

Lysander turned to close the door for her and as he did, he caught sight of something in the darkness. His eyes gleamed. So that was how the prince wanted to play the game then? Interesting…and Lysander knew just what to do to make things even more interesting.

As Misty led him to the living room, he casually pulled the blinds partially open, as if to study the moonlit surroundings outside. “This Alliance has made me remember just how hard our ancestors worked to rebuild our race after the Great War,” he murmured.

“I’m really sorry about what happened to your family,” she mumbled, wishing she could say more but knowing words would never be enough to take away the pain of losing one’s family.

“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” He swung back to face her, leaving the blinds open behind him, thus allowing the prince to see inside the house.

“Would you like some tea?” She didn’t make the mistake of offering him coffee, knowing how they preferred their food and drinks naturally sweet.  

“Yes, please.” He took a seat on the floral cushion, taking pleasure meanwhile at the sight of Misty preparing his tea. His mind tempted him with images of Misty doing the same thing, in his house, naked except for an apron but Lysander swiftly pushed those thoughts away. Now was
not
yet the time to let the prince know the truth about him. Not just yet at least.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Misty said as she put the tray down on the center table. Looking at Lysander, she couldn’t help but smile and forget her troubles for a while. He was dressed at the most casual she had seen him, but his “casual” look was still a lot frillier than most. It was not gay specifically but it just had a lot of lace in it, like a real-life Ken doll.

Lysander snapped his fan closed as she began serving tea. He didn’t bother hiding his surprise as he remarked, “You have
star fruit
?” It was an exotic fruit in the human world, and one that his race prized.

She nodded, confused. “Sir Belmont always gives me some when he comes back from his trip.”

Sir Belmont, the Grinch of their race, the one who infamously swore to burn all his wealth on his deathbed rather than give it away to anyone? That Sir Belmont?

Lysander cleared his throat. “I see.” Actually, he didn’t but he was going to look into this as soon as he could. He had never heard of Misty having any connection with the old curmudgeon, and maybe even if he did he would not have believed it. There was really more to this human girl than met the eye, Lysander considered, looking at Misty with a narrowed gaze.

She caught him staring. “What is it?”

He lied smoothly, “Nothing. I was just wondering how to tell you I have a shoulder for you to cry on if you want to talk about…” He trailed off delicately.

She sniffed. “You’re a lot more sympathetic than Daryl, I’ll give you that.” Her other gay friend, upon learning what happened in the ballroom and what she had overheard Ivory saying, simply told her to talk it out with Domenico.

“Do you really think he’s doing all these things just to get you back for the pack’s sake alone?” Daryl had asked.

It was a question she didn’t want to answer, not even to herself. If she did, Misty was afraid the alternative would be even more terrifying. It would mean that he might just be telling the truth, and she wasn’t willing to risk her heart again that way.