Twenty-year-old Claire must deceive a vampire prince to infiltrate the monarchy and discover their secrets while resisting her desire for him.
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Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Including the mission my family has sent me on.
My sister and...
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Pousser (verb) to grow
The castle had transported me to...a greenhouse.
It was exactly like the picture Bastien had drawn for me back in the tent when he was trying to describe his castle to me.
Bright sunlight, blooming flowers, and fragrant herbs enveloped me in a kind of happiness I hadn't experienced since working in the garden back home. But it wasn't a stalk of rosemary that had drawn me through the ballroom door so quickly.
It was him.
Shirtless.
Working only in a pair of dark trousers and boots. His blonde hair had been gathered at the nape of his neck, and messy strands fell around his face as he worked.
Bastien was a painfully beautiful creature, that much was true, but there was something different about him out here among the plants. He seemed more alive. More free.
When he stabbed the earth with a spade, his muscles flexing, I accidentally let the door slam shut behind me, drawing his attention.
Our eyes locked.
My breath stilled.
It was him and I, alone again. Seeing him in this greenhouse reawakened the darker part of my femininity.
I had so much I wanted to say. So much to yell at him about. But, I found I couldn't speak. Not with him looking at me like a rare gem he'd found while digging in the soil.
"I thought you were with your harem," he said, breaking the silence.
I let his words bounce around in my head for a moment as I tried to ignore the fact that he was shirtless.
So, he'd known exactly where I was and who I was with, yet hadn't come to barge in on us.
I wasn't sure if this knowledge made me more or less angry with him. I was stuck between wanting to rage at him for leaving me alone last night and this morning while he did Diana knows what, and wishing to appear like I didn't give a fig if he came to see me.
I made the snap decision to go with haughty indifference because I wasn't very skilled at arguing unless, apparently, I'd drank too much liquor.
"I was," I replied, clasping my hands together and glancing around the greenhouse.
I could feel the warmth of his attention even when my back was turned. It made me hot beneath my dress, and sweat prickled on my skin.
I tried to focus on the plants in order to keep my sensibility. The greenhouse shelves filled with potted herbs and flowers, which lined the glass walls. Small, well-manicured trees bearing citrus fruits grew in the corner, the leaves teeming with ripe lemons, limes, and oranges.
