No.
Lorraine screamed in her heart.
She wouldn't let it end here.
Not when he was this close. Not when his body betrayed everything his pride tried to deny. She felt the throb of him against her thigh. The heat in his hands. The way his breath hitched when she clung tighter. The way his gaze darkened when her gown slipped.
So she whispered his name, not husband, not prince, not the son of the mighty house that bore the Bear sigil, but…
"Leroy…" Softly. Like a secret. Like a spell.
And then she smiled, slow and dangerous, the way she'd once seen a courtesan do when she danced for nobles. Not out of affection, but dominion. There was a craft in seduction, not just of the body, but of will. And Lorraine had learned from the best.
Her lips brushed his jaw, then his ear.
