He couldn’t deny it: he was jealous. He was sizzling with jealousy and ugly possessiveness, wanting to shove Prince Aedan away and then latch himself onto Warrehn and glue them to each other, so that Warrehn couldn’t dance with or look at or talk to anyone else.
“Get a goddamn grip,” Samir said under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. He reached the quietest corner of the garden and sat down on the bench. He stared at the pond’s surface, trying to meditate his anger and jealousy away.
It didn’t work. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Warrehn and Aedan might possibly be doing right now. Were they talking? Was Aedan making him smile? What if the women were right and Warrehn wanted Aedan back? And why wouldn’t he? They had been bondmates. Prince Aedan was pretty, uncomplicated, and without any baggage. His mother hadn’t murdered Warrehn’s family, nor had she wanted to steal Warrehn’s throne.
Samir chuckled harshly, as if his stomach wasn’t churning with jealousy. “This is not real,” he whispered, but although rationally he knew that this jealousy was caused by the drug, it didn’t change anything. He burned with jealousy.
“Samir?”
He whipped his head around and exhaled when he saw Warrehn standing there. He ran his eyes over Warrehn’s tall body, searching for any sign of rumpled clothes. But Warrehn’s clothes were impeccable. He’d even thrown his heavy black mantle over his shoulders. He looked so handsome Samir’s mouth literally watered.
“Come here,” Samir heard himself say.
Warrehn lifted his eyebrows but walked closer and sat down beside him.
Samir knew he shouldn’t. They were at a ball, in someone else’s house, and he had no idea if there were cameras in the garden. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to kiss him and touch him so badly he was shaking with it.
He straddled Warrehn’s lap and kissed him needily. His, his, his. He was here, with him, not with Aedan.
Warrehn tried to break the kiss. “Wait—Samir—we can’t do it here—” He didn’t sound very convincing, considering that he was kissing him back, his arm tight around him. “We should stop.”
“No,” Samir said, cradling his stubbled cheeks with his hands and kissing him deeper. He felt like he could swallow him, swallow this man and keep him inside him forever.
“We can’t have sex here,” Warrehn said, kissing his chin, and then his neck, his mouth hot and perfect.
Don’t need sex, Samir thought, his eyes closing in bliss. Just keep touching me.
There was a distant feeling of alarm at the back of his mind, but it quickly faded when Warrehn’s mouth reclaimed his lips. Mmm… So good.
“Have you lost your senses?!”
They broke the kiss at the sound of the familiar voice.
Still breathless and flushed, Samir focused his gaze on Warrehn’s publicist and gave her a sheepish look.
Ayda glared at him, looking entirely unimpressed. “Your Highness,” she ground out, her hands on her hips. “Please get off His Majesty’s lap.” When he reluctantly complied, she said, “Good. Now go back to the ballroom and stay on the opposite side of the room from the king.”
Samir looked at Warrehn.
Warrehn looked back at him, his eyes glinting hungrily, his long, powerful body rigid with tension.
“For crying out loud,” Ayda said. “You’re forbidden from looking at each other, as well.” Huffing, she took Samir’s arm and all but dragged him toward the ballroom. “I don’t get paid enough for this, damn it.”
“We’re not that bad,” Samir said defensively.
He shut up when Ayda shot him an incredulous look.
All right, maybe she had a point.
***
“His Majesty is unavailable, Your Highness.”
Samir frowned at Warrehn’s secretary and looked at the closed door that led to Warrehn’s office. “Even for the royal family?”
The man hesitated. “Do you have a prior appointment, Your Highness? His Majesty told me not to disturb him. He has work that needs to be finished soon and he doesn’t want any distractions. I’m really sorry.”
His tone was very final, and in any other circumstances, Samir would have turned around and left, but…
He needed to see Warrehn—that is, he needed Warrehn’s opinion on the education bill he wanted to push in the next session of their clan’s council. If Warrehn didn’t support it, all his efforts would be largely in vain. He might be the heir to the throne currently, but people knew it was a temporary situation at best, and as soon as Warrehn got a real heir, Samir would become irrelevant, since Warrehn’s consort would be voting as the regent until the heir turned twenty-five.
Samir pursed his lips, trying to banish the image of Prince Aedan from his head.
“It’s kind of urgent,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you tried to stop me.” And with that, he marched toward the door.
“Your Highness—”
Samir entered the office and shut the door.
Warrehn lifted his gaze from the holo-document in front of him, something flickering in his eyes when he saw Samir. “I’m busy now, Samir,” he said.