Chapter 43
“I have dungeons,” he tells me, his voice dropping to a tone that hints he is older than I realize. The way he says it sounds so medieval, and I can’t help but look at him, puzzled.
He catches the confusion on my face and chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It is a castle, Bree. And I am, admittedly, very old.”
“How old?” I ask, my curiosity piqued, my smile teasing.
“Old enough to be your great–grandfather’s great- grandfather, probably.” His reply makes me grimace playfully.
“You’ve aged like fine wine then,” I chuckle, the words slipping out before I can stop them. Realizing what I’ve just implied, my face burns with embarrassment.
He leans in closer, his gaze intense, making the air between us charge with an electric current. “I mean, for an old guy,” I stammer, trying to deflect.
Soren’s smile widens, a hint of mischief playing across his features as he leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “Very generous of you, Bree,” he murmurs, his gaze holding mine. “But let’s not forget, with age comes not only wisdom but a certain finesse in all things. I’ve learned to appreciate the finer details in life–I have the patience of a saint and the experience to make each moment count.“His chuckle is soft and inviting, filled with a warmth that suggests familiarity and an allure that is both gentlemanly and subtly provocative.
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“A saint, huh?” I quirk an eyebrow at him, trying to conceal my blush. “Is that right?”
“Indeed,” he affirms with a confident nod, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact sends shivers up my spine,
unexpected, unwanted. “You’ll find I can be very… persuasive when I want something.”
His words, while charming and polite, carry an undercurrent that tugs at my thoughts, steering them into territory that makes my cheeks warm. The idea of such attention from him, even in the simplest interactions, stirs a mix of excitement
and fear within me.
“So?” he questions. I chew my lip nervously.
“What’s the second condition?” I ask him.
“You stop calling me your highness or my king,” he says.
I stare at him, perplexed. “What do you want me to call you then?” I blurt out, unable to comprehend why he would ask such a strange request.
“Just Soren,” he replies with a shrug, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You want me to use your first name?” I repeat incredulously. “But… you’re a king. It doesn’t seem right.”
“I am also just a man,” he points out matter–of–factly. “And I prefer familiarity over formality.”
I chew my lip nervously, considering his words. Part of me wants to agree, to call him by his name like any other person. But another part of me feels like it would be disrespectful and
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presumptuous.
288 Vouchers
“Okay…Soren,” I say hesitantly, testing out the name on my
tongue.
His lips curve up into a smile. “And that’s it, no other catch. I only have to look after Max? You’re not going to expect… me…” I trail off. I don’t want to be some king’s whore, some side piece for him to dip his wick whenever he feels like it. I saved my virginity and I don’t plan on tossing it away for a job.
“Expect you to…” my eyes widened and his eyes flicker.
him ove
“You know…” I tell him and he tilts his head to the side watching my face change to a deep shade of red.
“I don’t think I do, but by all means explain I’d love to watch you fumble over your words explaining.” He knows exactly what I mean. Now he is just toying with me.
I feel the heat in my cheeks, hotter than I’ve ever felt before. The audacity of him, toy with me while my self–respect is on the line? Implying those lewd thoughts and playing innocent? He’s lucky I have yet to sprout my fangs and claws against his teasing. But he’s a king and I’m… me.
“No, I… I won’t,” I stammer, throwing myself into the awkwardness. “I mean… You’re not expecting-”
“Expecting what?” Soren interrupts, his tone still playful. Yet his eyes are serious, watching me closely. It feels like he can see right through me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“To… to sleep with you,” I spit out finally, my voice barely a whisper.
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He’s silent for a moment. A cold wave of regret washes over
me as I fear that I’ve crossed a line. But then he lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head.
“Do you think so lowly of me, Bree?” he asks, leaning back into his chair. His expression is soft, devoid of any offense or anger. “Do you think I’d use my son as an excuse to take advantage of you?”
Chapter 44
