It Isn't Easy Being Queen

34. Beware the Enchanted Pond!

My muscles relaxed, and I breathed in the scent of the lilies, wishing this moment of serenity would never end.

Until it ended.

When my head bumped into something.

My heart sped, and I splashed wildly, spinning in the water to face my new foe. (Lately, my life had become a series of foe facings, so you can't blame me for thinking this, even in a dream.)

Oh, dear. I hadn't bumped into something. I'd bumped into someone.

"Blade!" I said, my legs cycling under the water, keeping me afloat.

"In the flesh," he replied with his signature crooked grin

"But you're in a coma. How are you even here?"

"It's your fantasy. You tell me."

I bit my lip, legs cycling under the water, as I looked up, waiting for an answer to fall on my head. Sadly, before an answer came, my muscles became exhausted from all the dog paddling. Because I was super magical and stuff; I magicked the depth of the pond and made it shallower. By then, I'd forgotten the question.

Blade sucked in a breath, and his face turned uncharacteristically serious, his eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, his heavy gaze so hot it practically burned my skin.

Uh, oh! I'd made a miscalculation here.

Because when I looked down at my bathing-suitless chest, I realized Blade wasn't the only one in the flesh. My face burned with mortification. Gulp. I knelt on the silty floor of the pond. Only my head appeared above the surface, the water licking at my neck.

Before I actually died of mortification, I conjured bathing suits for each of us. "Awww," he grumbled, looking down at his navy-blue swim trunks. "Did you have to do that?"

"Don't complain, or I'll put you in a Speedo!" I warned.

"But—"

I held up an arm. "My dream, my rules."

"Okay, Rowen," he said in a silky tone that made my mouth dry. Rivulets of water streamed from his wet hair, and I followed their progress as they flowed over the hard slabs of his chest and the defined ridges of his abs. He edged closer to me, and I backed away. What? Easier to admire those hard slabs and defined ridges. I guess sword-fighting made a man extremely muscly, not to mention terribly attractive. "My face is up here," he teased.

"I know where your face is," I said. "I was just looking at other places."

He grinned. "Did you like what you saw?"

"Not much," I lied. Totally lied! Big, big lie! I liked what I saw so much, it petrified me.

"Uh, huh," he said, coming closer.

I swallowed hard. "Wow, you're very confident, aren't you? Do you think I'm just going to throw myself at you?"

"Yes, Rowen, I do. I know you want me," he said, his smile gone, replaced by a very serious expression, his eyes blazing. The way his gaze traveled over my body gave me goosebumps. He licked his lips. I might've licked mine too, before I realized what I was doing. He chuckled. Came closer. So close, it was torture not to trace my fingers over his slabs and ridges, but I couldn't do that. Because then he'd know. And what if he didn't feel the same?

He captured my chin in his hand and bent toward me. My breath quickened. I closed my eyes, and his lips, so ridiculously soft and yet firm, pressed against mine. I moaned. Liquid heat traveled through my body, and magic burst out of me unbidden. It lifted us into the air as we deepened the kiss, as our tongues swept against each other.