Page 68 of Not My Fantasy

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“So, enlighten me, or you’ll be on your back again in moments.”

“Give me a shirt.”

“You’re in no place to make demands.”

“Lady Pendragon is actually my sister, Tess, so I am perfectly placed to teach you how to make her fall in love with you. Get me a fucking shirt and I’ll show you exactly how to woo her.”

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This earned me a raised eyebrow and a well-pressed white shirt. I felt better as the cloud of cotton settled around me, but I had to work hard to ignore the masculine scent on it. He got dressed, too, just dropped his towel and put on his clothes. I guess there was no need for modesty now, was there? He leaned back in his chair and lit himself something that looked like a combination of a cigarette and a cigar. How the hell did they smoke those when furry? I wondered. My mind would turn to anything rather than dwell on what had just happened. “So, your sister, hmm? I assume that your party was some kind of misguided rescue mission?”

“Yes.”

“So, why would I allow you to stay here? You’ll be trying to whisk my future beloved away.”

“Damned straight, I will,” I said, “but she’s angry with me and won’t hear a word about going home, so you have that in your favour.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t have your entire party slaughtered and served for dinner tonight?”

“For one, she might be pissed with me, but that doesn’t extend to wishing me dead. She’s not going to fall in love with you if you kill me.”

He shrugged, “Another girl, another occasion for a feast.”

“And how many girls have you had through the citadel?”

“Several.”

I watched the tension slowly ratchet up through his body. There was no obvious change, just a slight shift in his chair, fingers whitening as they tightened on his cigarette thing. “How many?”

“Seven over a five year period,” he said finally, stubbing the cigarette out with more force than was needed.

“Not a lot of girls. You get anywhere with them?”

“The first . . . she seemed receptive initially, but that soon waned. As did the second and the third. I have had less success as we have gone on, hence the contract with Gump.”

“Funny, because where I come from, princes under terrible curses are seen as terribly romantic. You should have women fawning al

l over you.”

“And yet I don’t, as you so kindly pointed out. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I want a promise,” I said. “No, a contract, in writing, lodged with whatever passes as a legal system here,” I said.

“Oh?” he smiled at this, “and what would you like it to say?”

“That no matter the outcome, I get to walk free of here and so do all of my men. No one ends up on the dinner table.”

“And why would I agree to that?”

“What have you go to lose? A nice meal? You’re seven for seven so far. Actually make that eight, because you sure as shit aren’t getting me to fall for you. Surely, regaining your rightful place as head of your country is better than a good feed? Or have you completely lost hope and decided to settle for this?” I gestured around the room. “How long will your men be content to stay here, in exile? What happens if they begin to leave? Have some started to leave already?” I saw the muscle jump under his right eye and knew I’d hit on something. “How many have left?”

“Too many,” he said and got to his feet. “Very well, I’ll have the papers drawn up. You’ll have your protection, but not for the blond one who attacked me.”

“Gabe is important to me; you know that. I’m not going to help you if you hurt him.”

“I could force you. I could beat you within an inch of your life—”

“And Tess will know. Even if I don’t say anything, it will become really obvious. Then you’ll have lost yet another chance, with your men all wondering how the fuck it is that you can’t persuade an inferior animal to fall in love with you.”


Tags: Sam Hall Book Lover Fantasy