“Just follow me,” she ordered. Then she ducked out from beneath the scarf, wrapped it around half his face, and pulled him down until they were both hunched lower than the crowd. She scanned the plaza between heads and spotted some crates stacked behind themakeshift stage, piled high enough to keep nosy pedestrians from peering over.
Taking a deep breath, Risa started for them, dragging Javi along the winding walk. Once they reached the crates, they collapsed behind them, gulping for air.
Sweat soaked the back of her dusty blouse, making it cling to her skin. During the kiss, Javi had mussed her hair further, and now it was a halo of frizz she could feel growing with each passing humid second. Her cheeks were on fire, her mouth felt swollen and foreign, and never before had she been so thankful that her coloring made it difficult to tell that she was flushed to the roots of her hair.
“Good thinking.”
She whipped her head at neck-breaking speed to look at him, his gold eyes framed by unnaturally long lashes, his flustered face too dark to reveal the blush she hoped was staining his cheeks. The sight of his slick, pouting mouth made hers tingle at the memory of their kiss. The way his hands had raked through her hair. The taste of his lips. The heat of his warm skin beneath the pads of her fingers.
“Escaping here,” he said in a rush. “Good thinking.”
“Ah, yes.” She cleared her throat. Wiped her hands on her lap. “Thank you.”
Silence. He fidgeted with the laces of his boots, untying and retying them.
This was absolute torture.
Risa hadn’t bothered to consider the repercussions of her actions. She hadn’t thought much at all, her movements urged by necessity. Causing a distraction, shutting him up—whatever it took to keep Javi from talking and catching the attention of the Sanguines. There were probably a number of ways to accomplish this that didn’tinvolve kissing an unavailable prince, but the scarf had been in her hands one minute and wrapped around his neck the next. And he was so stupidly handsome.
She’d never kissed anyone before. What if she was terrible at it? Her lips were chapped, her face slick with sweat. When was the last time she had bathed? It felt like a lifetime ago. Curses, she must smell awful, and Javi looked like he’d barely worked up a bead of sweat.
“About—” he started, just as she blurted, “I’m sorry.”
He interrupted her with a violent shake of his head, black curls flopping. “No, it’s quite all right, I understand.”
“I should still apologize.” Clammy hands in her lap, twisting the end of her blouse. She wiped them on her thighs, but that didn’t help. “I didn’t know what else to do. I could hear them, and you’re so tall…”
More unbearable silence. If he didn’t say something,shewas going to say something, and she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t going to be a more terrible revelation than the truth about her curse.
He cleared his throat and licked his lips to speak. “About my pulling away—”
“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. She didn’t want to hear it. “You don’t need to explain.”
Javi gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, I think I do.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He huffed a sigh of exasperation and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Do youreallynot see it?”
Risa narrowed her eyes. “I do not.”
“Then let me explain.”
She shook her head again with enough force to whip her hair. “I ambeggingyou.”
Javi clamped his mouth shut, ground his teeth, and glared for a moment. Then he breathed out slowly, and the tension fell from his face, telltale smirk slotted back in place.
“I know I’m difficult to resist.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose. “As if.”
“Your lips said otherwise.”
“That was out of necessity.”
“Sure, sure. If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
“I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man alive.”