Free The Assassin's Blade by Kaitlyn O'Connor Page B

did not release her. “You wound me, princess!” he protested. “I’d thought myself proficient in the art of seduction.”
    Faylyn smiled icily. “Self-deception can be a wonderful thing. I’m sorry to have to wound you further, but I see no evidence of proficiency in the art, quite the contrary, in fact. Your compliments are heavy handed and obvious, your directness only slightly more charming than insulting. Now, if you’ll release me….”
    Surprise loosened his grip. Faylyn took full advantage of it and moved away.
    It was a shame, really. He was obviously a member of the royal guard, close to the Emperor. A brief association might have been useful, except for the fact that the man was impossible.
    He fell into step beside her. She slid a cold glance in his direction, but otherwise gave no indication that she was aware of the fact that he was dogging her steps as she made her way around the edge of the crowded dance floor.
    “Would you care to dance?”
    “No.”
    “You find me repulsive?”
    It was hardly a question—more of a demand, but laced with disbelief. “I find you annoying. Run along now, there’s a good fellow.”
    She left him with his jaw at half cock, glancing around as she moved through the crowd for a point of vantage where she might study the other members of the group the oaf hailed from. One of them was most likely the Emperor, though she could not rule out the possibility that he was not present at all. It was a well known fact that the Emperor rarely attended the balls he threw. Though the events were designed to promote goodwill, he seemed to prefer smaller, more intimate gatherings with his close friends.
    Nevertheless, their intelligence had indicated that he would be present, if only for a short time, at the ball tonight.
    The dance floor of the ballroom was slightly lower than the area around it. As tempted as she was to go back up the stairs she’d so recently descended, the balcony above lacked convenience, despite its superiority as a vantage point. If she spotted her target, she wanted to be able to move into position quickly, and unobtrusively. Instead of climbing the stairs once more, therefore, she merely climbed the two shallow steps to the seating area on the banquet surrounding the dance floor and glanced out over the heaving throng once more.
    The men of the royal guard, she saw, had spread out across the room. She bit her lip in vexation. She might have discerned more from a side by side comparison, but she’d lost that chance. As advantageous as it would be to strike while the ball was in full swing, it began to seem certain that she
    would be forced to bide her time until it ended and catch her quarry in the
    royal apartments. Even so, there was still a certain advantage to striking this night. The refreshments were flowing freely. No doubt there would be few left standing by the end of the evening. Those who were would be at a definite disadvantage due to intoxication.
    A large hand slid around her waist, settling on her hip. Faylyn drove her elbow into the mid-section she knew was directly behind her. A gratifying grunt of pain rewarded her efforts.
    “You are being most uncooperative.” There was amusement in the voice.
    The faint smile of satisfaction left her lips. They tightened with annoyance at his apparently imperturbable self-confidence. “You noticed that?”
    “I find myself intrigued.”
    “Indeed?” Faylyn said tightly.
    “I’ll admit I’m not accustomed to women who play hard to get.”
    Faylyn’s lips flattened. “How wonderful for you! But--try impossible.”
    He chuckled. “I’m used to getting what I want.”
    “It grieves me to be the first to disappoint you.”
    “You don’t sound regretful.”
    “Because I’m not?”
    He was silent for several moments.
    Faylyn was hopeful that he might take the hint and depart for more likely prey, but her hopes were soon dashed.
    “I could have my pick of any woman here tonight….”
    Faylyn