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favorite messenger.
The King is going to have a ball, said Cinderella, her voice displaying a hint of
anger, the first Reina had ever heard from her.
The skinny one grabbed the message from Cinderella s hand. It s true, she said,
after looking over it quickly. She grabbed her sister s hand and ran out of the room,
calling out, Mother!
Cinderella turned to the man. You should leave before Stepmother comes back.
It was obvious the man did not want to leave, but he held back his instinctive
negation. Instead, he said, The King s decree says every unmarried female is to come to
the ball. That means you should go.
Cinderella shook her head. I have no desire to go, Henry.
Without warning, Henry grabbed her hand, pulling her so that their bodies aligned,
nearly touching. I ll be there, Cinderella, and I want more than anything to dance with
you. With a last lingering look, Henry left.
Cinderella s hand absentmindedly wandered up to her throat, her eyes indicating her
thoughts were anywhere but the present. Cinderella, Reina said gently.
Huh?
We should finish the floors.
Of course, she said, and sank to the floor to finish her job, so caught up in her own
thoughts that she didn t realize Reina was still in the room. Reina watched over her, the
occasional indulgent smile stealing over features.
The rest of the morning saw the house in an uproar over news of the impending ball.
Visitors arrived at odd times, and the continuous voices of women constantly whipped
around the halls.
When lunch came around, Reina found herself in the kitchen alone, grateful that
Cook and Cinderella were at different tasks around the house and she could finally get a
few minutes of peace.
Damn, women are loud. I swear I heard them over the hammering in the barn.
Tiernan s grumbling voice alerted Reina to his presence in the kitchen, so she turned
to greet him.
The words died in her throat.
Tiernan s chest was bare, and it was her first time ever seeing him in this state.
He had a lean, muscular build. His upper body was v-shaped, and his wide shoulders
went down to a nicely sculpted chest, to a stomach ridged with muscle. His trousers were
a little loose, and she noticed he had a v even there along his stomach and hips going
down his thighs, the lines trailing delectably to that bulge between his legs. Her eyes
lingered there, and she wished desperately that last night she d had the presence of mind
to disrobe him.
Then she remembered where she was, and praying he was too busy to notice where
her gaze had been, she finally looked him in the eye.
He noticed, the bastard. Of course he did. Oh yes, there they were, those dimples out
full force in all their majestic glory. Well, Fairy Godmother Reina, what exactly are you
thinking about?
Our assignment, of course, she responded, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing
her ruffled. What else is there to think about?
What else indeed? he asked, going to collect his plate of food. I assume with all
the thinking you were doing, you have something to tell me?
Smug bastard. She noticed he didn t bother to put anything over his chest. As a
matter of fact, I have many interesting things to tell you.
Tiernan listened quietly as she related the events of the morning. The file never
mentioned the Prince s deception.
No, it didn t. That implies a certain laxness on the part of the intel gathering which I
will investigate when we get back, but I can only see it working in our favor right now.
She is very obviously in love with him and he with her.
Tiernan reached out, twirling her hair around his fingers. Do you think Cinderella is
over her fear of men? and despite the fact he tried to sound disinterested, Reina could
see his pupils dilate slightly, darkening his eyes in a way that caused her heart to start
beating madly.
She leaned closer to him, her voice lowering. I think she has made a good start.
His fingers went from her hair to feather over her lips. Maybe we should be sure her
fear is gone.
Chapter 8
Maybe we should, Reina said, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes, and
Tiernan was hard pressed to remember why he couldn t just pick her up and carry her to
their shared room.
All morning he had been dealing with so-called gentle women showing less class
and dignity than the average whore, and he wondered why the FGs were always
complaining about how men were only interested in one thing. Selective memory,
obviously.
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