Falling For His Convenient Queen. Therese Beharrie
cool again, and something chilled inside him as well.
He told himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that she was filled with light and happiness. That her laughing at something that she could have found embarrassing had been so authentic that he thought it was the first time he’d seen a glimpse of the real Nalini.
Which had him wondering why she thought that she needed to hide the real her.
He shook his head, grateful for the distraction of being brought the towels he’d asked for. He took them and handed one to Nalini.
‘You should dry off.’
‘I’d prefer to have a shower,’ she answered, but took the towel and rubbed it over her legs. She slipped out of her heels and dried her feet and, though he was tempted to keep watching her—what was it about her legs that was so captivating?—it reminded him that his feet were wet too.
Like her, he wanted a shower. And dry clothes and shoes. Since he’d angled his body so that she would have some privacy from the onlookers, he couldn’t dry himself off as she was doing. Yet he was hesitant to leave.
That burst of light he’d seen from her had been so refreshing—and so completely different from the perpetual darkness he’d felt shroud him since the night of the State Banquet. Since before then, he knew, thinking about his mother.
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