As Garland held the sword, Leo flipped open the buttons of his uniform jacket.
‘Leo? What are you doing?’ Juno murmured.
To her total astonishment, he winked at her as he took off the jacket, then draped the heavy brocade garment over her shoulders. The fabric was warm from his skin, the jacket large enough to reach her knees, enveloping her in the scent of soap and sandalwood and clean male. An older female guest nearby sighed, the hum of approval from the crowd matched by the strange glow suff
using Juno’s chest at the chivalrous gesture.
‘Let’s go.’ Leo grasped her hand and headed towards the balcony doors.
The colour rose in her cheeks as he led her through the adoring crowd. She felt like the head of the cheerleading squad, wearing the captain of the football team’s letter jacket after a winning game, times about a hundred. Except she’d never been a cheerleader in high school and never been on the captain of the football team’s radar.
It was a heady feeling, but also kind of shocking, not just to be singled out by Leo, but to know it could make her feel important, when she had always laughed at those girls in the past.
Leo grasped the crystal handle and pulled open the heavy glass door to the balcony, then executed a sweeping, mocking bow.
‘After you, Your Majesty,’ he said as the blast of cold air chilled Juno’s flushed cheeks. ‘Our private sanctuary awaits.’
Memories of that night eight years ago clogged Juno’s throat. She’d surprised him out here then, having snuck down from her room to catch a glimpse of her crush. She’d grown up since then, a lot, because she’d had to, hiding her mother’s addictions while dealing with all the responsibilities her mother had abandoned over the years. And lost any belief in fairy tales.
But as she stepped outside, the frozen air misting her vision, a part of that wild, troubled but still innocent child stepped into the night with her. And a lump got lodged in her chest making it hard for her to breathe.
Let it go. You’re not that besotted kid any more.
This wasn’t romantic, she told herself staunchly. Leo had an agenda—he wanted a political union, and probably to get into her pants.
But even as her natural cynic tried to control her breathing, the lump grew, threatening to block off her air supply, as Leo stepped onto the balcony behind her. His big body shielded hers as he rested his hands on her shoulders.
The door slammed shut behind them. And suddenly she was alone with him in the still night. Her pulse accelerated to warp speed.
He pressed his face into her hair, and inhaled.
‘Your new scent is killing me,’ he murmured. ‘It reminds me of summer. What made you change it? Because I definitely approve.’
‘I wanted to torture you...’ she said, pushing the words out past the ever-expanding lump—she’d started wearing this scent eight years ago to impress him with how grown up she was. It hadn’t had the desired effect then.
‘It worked.’ The rough chuckle against her nape was a salute to that desperate teenager. ‘Vanilla doesn’t suit you.’
She tensed, the moment of panic not helping with her breathing difficulties. Jade had told her during their long exchange of details to be careful of Leo, that he was an exceptionally observant man.
Juno had dismissed the warning. If Leo was so observant why hadn’t he been aware of her long campaign to get him to notice her that summer?
But Jade had been right. And whatever happened tonight, she couldn’t afford to have their ruse exposed.
But the danger of discovery only increased her excitement as Leo gripped her hand—his fingers warm, hers already chilling—and led her away from the prying eyes of the crowd inside the ballroom, to the far end of the snowy balcony.
Towering over her, his body heat warming her, he cupped her cheek, then ran his thumb over the line of her lips. ‘How did I not notice how exquisite you are until tonight?’ he murmured.
Her cheeks heated, panic and exhilaration combining in the pit of her belly, as his gaze lifted to her tiara and then glided down.
Was it her sister he saw now? Or her?
She shivered.
‘How are you not freezing?’ she managed, trying for mocking but getting breathless instead.
He barked out a laugh. ‘Great circulation,’ he said, but then he framed her face in both hands and tilted her head up to the torchlight. ‘And hours of anticipation.’
He lowered his mouth, his wide sensual lips hovering over hers—the tantalising promise hurtling her back in time.