Free Snow by Deborah M. Brown Page A

“Don’t think,” he said and kissed her. “Trust me,” he said against her mouth.
    “We could go away. Just you and I together,” said Anais. Rui became still in her arms, his mouth resting against her cheek. “I love you.” She had never said it out loud before.
    “Go away together? And do what? Give up all this? Would you have me exchange a kingdom for a pigpen? If you love me, then you will do this for me.”
    He had pushed her to the floor and made love to her again, more gently this time. It was only later, after he had left her, that Anais thought upon what he had said.
    And what he hadn’t said.
    He hadn’t said that he loved her.

    Charming came across Anais in the rose garden where she sat upon an ornamental stone bench staring pensively at the soft green covering of new leaves with their promise of spring. Two of her women sat nearby idly chatting, their heads bent close together. All the talk was of the wedding in five days’ time. Anais’s head ached. She was weary of the tedium of the court and its fascination with the Snow Bitch and her Prince Charming. Weary of Rui’s demands. His words hammered her heart as relentlessly as his body hammered hers.
    If you loved me, you would do this…
    Yet love him she did. Despite her fears.
    She pasted a smile on her face as Charming approached, allowing him to take her hand and bow over it. His fingers lingered on hers perhaps an instant too long. He gestured to the seat beside her.
    “May I join you, Majesty?”
    Majesty. In five days’ time, she would no longer have the right to that title.
    Anais gave him a gracious nod in acquiescence, and he sank onto the stone seat beside her. He was very graceful, Anais noted. He had a loose-limbed litheness to him that reminded her of Rui.
    But his eyes were black, not blue, and she could read nothing from them.
    “So, Your Highness. The contracts are signed and all is in readiness for your wedding day?”
    “Indeed,” he murmured. “But please, call me Charming.”
    “Then you must call me Anais. After all, we will be relatives of a sort in a few days.” Anais smiled brightly.
    “Hmm,” he said absently, leaning back and gazing up at the sky.
    “You seem distracted, Charming. Thinking of your wedding night, perhaps?” This last was said a touch more sharply than Anais had intended.
    He laughed. “Perhaps. Although not in the way you might imagine, Anais.”
    She lifted an eyebrow in polite enquiry. Charming turned his head to look at her, taking her hand in his and absently stroking it. She suppressed a shiver. He leaned a little closer to her, and she forced herself not to move away. “In truth I don’t anticipate much pleasure from my wedding night,” he said conversationally. “A well-broken mare is a much sweeter ride than an unbroken filly.”
    This startled a laugh from her. “That is hardly a flattering analogy, my lord! For the mare or the filly.”
    He grinned, and for once Anais could see the charm in him. Just for one brief moment, as though he had let his guard down for an instant. “Perhaps not. Would you prefer it if I compared a princess to a queen?”
    Anais felt her face colour. “I will be your stepmother.”
    This time it was Charming who laughed. He lifted her hand to his lips. “Let me assure you that what I feel for you is nothing remotely resembling filial devotion.” His tongue stroked her palm, rough and wet, before he released her.
    Her heart was beating a tattoo. She felt as though Rui stood at her shoulder watching her.
    She smiled at Charming. “How intriguing. Perhaps we could discuss exactly what it is you feel for me after supper this evening?”
    His wide mouth curled in an answering smile. “Nothing would please me more. In the meantime, perhaps you would like a taste of exactly what it is I feel for you? Just so you are in no doubt?” He placed Anais’s hand between his legs. She could feel his erection straining against his breeches. He gave a little grunt