The flock of people erupted in a deafening roar of applause.
But Nixie had eyes only for the king. He was a tall man, nearly as tall as Robin himself. But instead of a shock of blond hair, his was a deep, rich brown that hung to the nape of his collar in soft waves. He was broad of shoulder and slim of waist, with strong, thick looking thighs. It was only the sheer masculinity of his face and body—the super-chiseled jaw that looked as if it could slice through paper, the regal nose, and the broad forehead—that helped him not to look like such a dandy in the candy apple-red tights and flowing red robe lined with white-speckled animal fur.
Crispin certainly looked the part of a lion-hearted king. The sword strapped to his waist didn’t look like mere ornamentation so much as a natural extension. This was clearly a warrior king.
He waved to the crowd, giving them a magnanimous smile full of nothing but straight, white teeth.
“Welcome one and all to the annual harvest celebrations. May you be well, and merry.”
His voice was strong and even, and even had a hint of a burr to it. The golden crown studded with rubies atop his head glinted as he moved, there was an innate charisma to the monarch, one where a person—be it man or woman—was held instantly spellbound by it.
“Beautiful,” she murmured.
“Careful, my pet,” Robin whispered hotly in her ear, “lest you fall to the viper’s treachery as well.”
“What?” She shook her head and turned to him, and realized she’d been leaning forward on tiptoe, just as everyone else around them now was, hanging on the king’s every word with rapt, devoted attention.
She frowned and grabbed her head, feeling as though she’d had too much to drink, when she knew she’d had nothing at all.
“What’s wrong with me?” Her voice quivered, head still full of fog.
Robin’s touch on her bare arm was gentle, but also grounded her. Helped her to breathe again, helped her clear the muddle of her mind.
The king was still speaking, and it was all Nixie could do not to turn her face up again, not to want to fall to bended knee and…
Robin’s hot body moved in behind her own, his warm hands slid down the naked length of her flesh, before his fingers curled through hers.
“Listen to my voice.”
She shivered, skin going awash with the heat of goose bumps.
His nose nuzzled the length of her neck, making it hard to breathe. And it wasn’t the king now fuzzing up her thoughts, but the man standing behind her. The hard lines and grooves of his body rubbing up against her own that made her tremble.
It didn’t matter that there was clothing between them; she swore if she closed her eyes she could feel him move through her.
“That’s right, my beauty.” His thick drawl touched a nerve in her, set her belly aflutter with the wings of a thousand butterflies. “Listen to me alone.”
The soothing cadence of his voice drowned out the enthrallment of the king’s, who was now shaking his fist and spouting the virtues and strength of their realm. The power of them as a people. And how, in all things, he was to be their god and they his chattel.
She frowned. “What?” Had she really just heard that?
Robin’s thumb traced the soft skin between her thumb and finger.
“Can you hear him now?” he asked.
She blinked. “I…I…”
“You will adore me. Worship me,” the king continued, “I will lay down my life for yours.” She shook her head. The words going in and out from nefarious to patriotic. “I will fight for you. Honor. Pathetic humans. You are not fit to kiss the muddied soles of my boots. Loyalty. Send me your virgins. Honor. Kill any who besmirch my good name. Truth—”
But it wasn’t simply his words changing, but also his appearance.
He blinked in and out of her vision. As that regal, brown-haired champion of righteous, to someone that made her gasp and quiver.
“Not possible,” she gasped, going rigid in Robin’s arms, because the man standing on stage and the one standing behind her was one and the same.
Right down to the electric-blue eyes.
“Aye.” His grip tightened. “It is possible, pet. Crispin is not just my brother. He is my twin.”
Chapter 16
“Now. Eat. Drink. And have fun!” Crispin intoned. The moment he did, the lights flickered out, except for one lone jewel of light in the very center of the room. Flickering like a torch.
“Don’t stare at that light,” Robin ordered her.
Nixie blinked, shaking herself violently. “What will happen if I do?”
“You’re magical, so maybe nothing, but I’ll not take that chance.” He spun her about, locking her safely in his arms. “But that’s fairy magic. And the dark kind at that. It compels all women to go to him.”
The moment he said those words a beehive of women began to slowly push forward toward the front of the stage.
Nixie clung to Robin’s collar. Her tiny body fit like a perfectly interlocking puzzle piece in his arms.
“Charming, but if I don’t go?”