Chin rested on his fist as he hunched over the table, Erick grimaced. That constant tapping chipped away his tolerance for the man. Reiley III, Porter's king wouldn't sit still. If his fingers didn't thud against the table, it was his mudskipper-skin boots kicking a table leg.

The foreign king hadn't touched his meal. Steam no longer rose from the eggs and ham and the bread must have hardened to pucks by now. Sometimes, he slurped from his milk, which annoyed Erick more than the tapping.

Lack of sleep ached Erick's head. He couldn't rest after the embarrassment of last night. The girl was a prudish brat. It shouldn't matter what she thought. He gulped his fifth mug of ale to chase away the memory. The bitter suds dulled all sensations to a bearable twinge.

"Perhaps, someone should check on her," Reiley suggested. He insisted on waiting for Eleanor before he'd eat.

"Where did you meet my oath-brother's daughter?" Anger shouldn't harden Erick's words but his mouth and jaw tensed up. It didn't make sense. Erick loathed the girl.

Reiley exhaled slowly, eyelids drooping as if he were the one intoxicated. "She appeared like a winter fairy out of the snow-laced woods, then disappeared. I chased her but my legs were stiff from the long carriage ride. I thought I had lost her forever but I stopped at your duke's home to rest and there she was. A rose among the thorns." He smiled like a lovelorn boy, though crows' feet marked his rawhide-like skin. "It turned out she was not running from me. She ran from her father. She does not like it here any more than I do. If she was not so well guarded then, I would have stolen her from her prison last winter."

Erick wanted to throw the arrogant ass out onto the ice-slicked road but he needed a trade agreement with Porter. Gritting his teeth, he said instead, "My oath-brother would be very... upset."

"What would he do?" Reiley's smile spread wide to openly mock Erick.

Erick's blood boiled and scalded his skin. He'd have lurched up and pummeled Reiley's face if it weren't for Phil.

Unruffled, his older oath-brother calmly warned, "Her theft would cause war and would include our elven allies of the Western River. Lady Eleanor's mother is of their royal line. Eleanor is also a favored ambassador in Gildon's court."

Ambassador? That stretched the truth a ways but it worked. No one crossed Gildon's evil queen.

The leathery lips of the foreign king closed in a pensive pucker. "You have probably guessed my intent here does not involve business. Our discussions closed last year and I had no intent of revisiting such topics."

Son of a bitch. The arrogant king refused to lift his trade embargo, even though the cause had long been stripped of any power. No spell-casting hybrid sat on Biston's throne. There was no longer any threat for war between them, until now. Over a girl Erick despised.

"I came to negotiate with your duke for Eleanor's hand. Although I had sent message of my coming, he was not home, so I followed him here. Thus my unexpected and late arrival upon your doorstep last night."

"Henry won't be back for several weeks." Erick stood and signaled that Reiley should leave. "I'll let him know you stopped by."

But the foreign king didn't rise. "You are your duke's master. I have something you want and you have Eleanor in your care. I am willing to reopen negotiations."

Although Erick would love to be rid of the brat, Henry would kill him. Before he could open his mouth, the door burst open.

A tear-streaked maid rushed in. She panted through her fingers, making it difficult to understand her. She half-curtsied, half-stumbled and fell against the wall. "Eleanor. Lady Eleanor," she said again. "She's dead." Images spilled from her racing mind of a blue hand jutting out from a mountain of blankets.

Shit. What had he been thinking? Erick bolted out of the room and through the halls to the south wing. A gush of cold air chilled his face and goose-bumped his skin. Too cold for elves and full hybrids. He knew that. Damn it, he knew that.

Eleanor's guards stared into the room at the end of the hall. The coldest room in the palace. Their silent accusations singed Erick's guilt-laden gut. They didn't bow. They didn't break way. Unmoving, they didn't acknowledge him.

Erick pushed past and into her tiny bedroom. Piles of blankets and dresses covered the bed as if she'd been unpacking. But when he drew nearer, he saw the blue hand hanging out from under the piles, off the edge of the bed. Earth.

He tore off the layers of fabric to the slender form beneath. She lay curled in a tight ball, motionless, face just as blue as her hand.

"Eleanor? Ellie?" He grasped her shoulder and flinched. Cold. Even through the multiple nightshirts, her flesh chilled his palms.

His chest tightened and his mouth fell open. He could still taste her perfume in the air. She couldn't be dead. He searched for some sign. Anything. "Ellie, please." He clasped her hand and howled in pain at the burst of magic.

Her skin burned his. He dropped to his knees, eyes tearing, unable to breathe. The scalding heat spread up his arm and into chest like fire eating through him. Agony. But he couldn't let go. He couldn't move.

Icy numbness crawled up his legs. What sort of spell was this? He couldn't scream. Blood pounded through his veins and pumped the frosty sting all throughout, cooling the burn in his chest and arm until he felt nothing.

She took a breath, a tiny gasp. Her dark blue lips parted and her midnight hair fluttered like elven silk in a breeze.

She wasn't dead.

"Thank Earth," Phil exhaled. "Get her to a fire. The kitchen or the dining room. I'll start one up in her old room." The old man patted Erick on the back, shaking him free from whatever held him.

His hands trembled and his legs wobbled beneath him as he forced himself up. "I will take her." Reiley moved to scoop her up.

Rage bubbled in Erick's gut. He seized her in his arms and nearly toppled under her weight. Such a tiny thing, yet she felt like a big sack of sand. She'd done something to him. Weakened him.

Limply, she hung from his arms. Silk scarves slipped from her long neck and pooled on the floor. Her perfume wafted up, soft, barely there, yet enough to dizzy him.

The room seemed to spin as his tool hardened. "You are drunk." Reiley tried to take her from him.

Somehow, Erick evaded him and staggered through her mass of guards huddled at the door. They followed close behind, blocking the foreign king. Apparently, they hated Reiley more than Erick.

Her limbs and hair swayed with his clumsy swagger. Beautiful, even when blue. The long lines of her exposed neck. Her slender jaw and chin. If only she were someone else.

In the dining room, he laid her down on the bearskin rug before the fire. The heat should thaw her. He'd seen it before, though never this bad. She'd never stopped breathing before, nor darkened to such a deep shade of blue.

"Ellie? Wake up." He reached to touch her blue cheek.

Reiley stopped him, rough grip on his wrist. "Do not bind her to you. Hear my terms."

"What?" Erick squinted up at him.

Jealousy creased the foreign king's face. "I want her untouched, unbound."

Erick jerked free and spat a curse. "Should I lock her in a tower to ensure her cheek will go unmolested?"

"They bind their mates to them by a touch of the cheek."

He'd never heard that before but it made sense. He, himself, had an aversion to anything touching his face. But he'd touched her cheek before, when she was a child. She'd never said anything about it then. "She isn't full elf. It won't bind her."

Under his breath, Reiley muttered, "Moron."

The haughty prick constantly insulted Erick's commoner tongue and lack of proper etiquette. "You want to say that to my face?" Raised by soldiers and his nan, Erick hadn't had expensive tutors growing up but he'd had more than enough training to pummel the pompous ass in combat.

"It would bind you to her. She would only be bound to you if she touched your face. If you were fated as they call it."

"She's touched my cheek. It didn't mean anything." She'd just been a kid. Only twelve or thirteen. It had been harmless.

"Then you are not her fated." Reiley smiled, seemingly relieved and knelt beside her.

Elven mumbo-jumbo never applied to Erick. Thank Earth. Not to have a choice in lovers would torture him. With his luck he'd have been fated to some ogre.

"Warmth from the fire cannot pass through all these layers she is dressed in." Reiley reached to unbutton the outermost nightshirt.

"Don't." Erick pushed his hands away. "She's my charge. Hand me my coat." Reiley snorted but whatever argument he meant to spew fell silent.

Erick roughly dug his fingers into the layered fabric at her throat and tore the nightshirts open. Buttons skittered and rolled as a burst of fuck-me perfume struck his senses.

The whole room drew a deep drag and closed in. Her guards weren't wearing their nose plugs.

"Get out," Erick snapped when one of them stooped beside him for a better look. He pulled the torn fabric taut over her nearly bare breasts and black tuft that shimmered like a starry night. Oh, he wanted to stroke that midnight silk and dip his fingers between her delicate lower lips. If he were alone with her, he'd warm her in a whole new way. She'd wake from orgasm while his hot rod thawed her pussy and his hands rubbed her shimmying breasts. That would be the best way. "You should go too," he blurted to Reiley, all too eagerly.

Although her guards left, Reiley remained. "I am concerned for your niece."

"She's not my..." Earth, I'm a bad man. They didn't share blood, but that didn't excuse his behavior. It was just the perfume. Erick reached into his pocket for the nose plug and shoved it over his nostrils. "She wouldn't want you to see." His voice came out nasally but at least he could think rationally.

"Nor would she want..."

Phil burst into the room, papery face creased with worry. Knuckles white, he clutched a blanket to his chest. "Here, Your Majesty. Her room won't be warm enough for a few hours." He wrapped the blanket around Erick's shoulders as if he were the one cold. You need to strip down to warm her, Phil uncomfortably directed. Hurry. If she dies...

She'll be fine. This has happened before. Remember? She used to follow us out into the snow. No, she followed you into the snow for no more than an hour, not all night.

"Move out of the way." Reiley shoved his shoulder into Erick's.

Phil yanked the foreigner up by his earlobe. "Touch my king and I don't care who you are." He threw Reiley out into the hall and locked the door between them. Despite his age, Phil's strength showed itself in short bursts.

"That'll come back and bite us," Erick grumbled, though he wanted to do far worse to Porter's king.

"Hurry up."

Under the cover of the blanket, Erick unbuttoned his shirt. "Now you're modest?" Phil muttered.

He hadn't worn an arm scarf to hide his cursed scar. Should he take off his pants too? His legs were warm. He stripped them off.

Nude, he scooped her up under the blanket with him. Her torn clothing hid her skin from his. Shamefully, even without the tempting perfume, he wanted to feel her. He tried not to seem too eager as he slid the layers off her shoulders and out from under her.

Her bare cheeks stung his thighs with icy needles but he didn't care. He held her tightly, crushing her firm breasts against his chest, ignoring the shivers racking through him. Her stony, blue nipples stabbed into his flesh, yet fantasies of sucking them pink quickened his breath. When he pulled her frozen, nude hip hard against his throbbing cock, he nearly moaned. The cold couldn't diminish his need.

"Ellie?" he croaked in her hair.

Strands of her silky tresses tangled in his stubble. Limply, her head slid back, exposing her neck.

He wanted to plant kisses there and lick every line but he settled for rubbing her smooth skin. Down the length of her neck, his fingertips curled into the hollows of her collarbone, around her slender shoulders. His hands trembled, cold, when he reached her arms but the friction of his touch might help. He massaged and briskly rubbed up the deep curve of her back and couldn't stop the groan in his chest. Each rough stroke pushed her firm flesh against his hungry cock.

A door opened, startling him. Over his shoulder, he watched Phil leave through the kitchen door and close it behind him.

Thrilling shivers pricked his gut. Alone, he could do whatever he wanted. No one would know. But it would be wrong to take advantage.

Would it hurt, just to touch her?

He tried to sit still but couldn't stop his hips from grinding against her hip. Her icy flesh should have cooled his desire but his rock-hard cock twitched and wept with pre-cum, slicking each stroke on her skin.

He curled his free hand around the deep curve of her waist and traced up the hard line of her stomach, between her breasts. He couldn't breathe, filling his gaze with the sight of her, spreading his fingertips wide over the soft mounds. He stroked and fondled her cold nipples, rubbing them pink. Oh, this was the best way. How could there be any other way?

He cupped her, filling his hand. Warmth sparked from her breast, through his arm. It spread over him, everywhere her body touched his. His nerves lit afire and every muscle in his body tensed. Every sensation concentrated at the tip of his cock and drove him to a fervent rhythm.

He clutched her tightly against his need, grunting and panting. He sloppily kissed her neck and the salt of her skin filled his mouth. He lapped up the flavor. Electrifying warmth spilled down his throat, filling him with her magic.

Her whole body felt warm. Blue faded, her fair cheeks had flushed. Jagged breath pushed her mouth open.

Erick halted and released her breast, afraid she'd wake and scream. He'd taken this too far. "Ellie?"

She murmured something in elven.

"Ellie?" He stroked her jaw with his fingertips and his eyes rolled back in his head. The sparks were so much stronger here. Earth, that felt good too good. He tentatively pressed his palm to her cheek and moans mingled between them. Desire surged from her mind through their touch and blazed inside him.

"Ellie, do you want me?" He held his breath, hoping, praying it wasn't just a reflection of his thoughts bouncing back to him.

"Erick," she whispered. Elven words followed but he didn't understand until her open hands glided up his bare chest and her mouth inched toward his.

He would have seized her pouty lips if not for the sudden tension in her back. Something felt wrong.

Her eyes popped open, aglow with memories they'd shared. She screamed, squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push his hand away. Worries flooded from her mind. Did he see? Oh, please say he didn't see. He couldn't have seen.

See what?

She wrenched free and he barely caught her from stumbling into the fire. His cock twitched against her bare stomach and she glanced down.

Earth, no. You didn't. She wriggled free and snatched the blanket to hide herself. Her lips trembled as if she'd cry.

"I didn't. I swear. You were blue. I was just warming you." Erick hurriedly tugged on his clothes to escape the horrible guilt of how close he'd come. If she hadn't woken up... Oh, he was a bad man. Hell would definitely claim him for this.

The fresh memory replayed and he realized it was her in his head. There was no hiding how far he'd taken advantage.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I shouldn't have."

"If you want me to call you Rickie or Freddie, keep calling me that." Her gaze lowered to the nose plug that made his voice nasally. "Take that stupid thing off."

She wasn't mad, not about his touches. He removed the plug and her perfume wafted over him, rich and thick. "Ellie, do you-?"

The hallway door crashed open and spilled Reiley onto the floor at Eleanor's feet. He scrambled up as apologies sputtered from his mouth about the woman he'd shared with Erick last night. "It was late. Alcohol stole my reserves. I have never committed such an act before."

Dressed in nothing more than a blanket, hair tangled, she held herself with confidence she shouldn't have. If her body dripped with diamonds and elven silk, she couldn't have looked more graceful and collected. "Are you under the impression that I care who shares your bed? Why don't you delete the woman in between and just take Frederick to bed? Wasn't that the point?" Her glare fixed on Erick.

I get it, Eleanor. Despite what I almost did to you, you think I want men?

Reiley blurted, "I only crave you, my sweet winter rose." He reached for her hand but she evaded him.

"I've already told you, I don't deserve your affection." On anyone else's lips, her words would sound like a modest compliment but Eleanor's tone tainted them with insult. "Give it to someone else."