They stood there, trapped in the moment. Henry's gaze dropped to her mouth. It was a mistake. He knew it the moment it happened, but knowledge did nothing to stop the hunger that moved through him.
He leaned down, slowly enough to pretend he was asking, selfishly enough to know he was not. Just a little taste. One brush of her lips. One stolen proof that the woman beneath the anger still remembered the heat between them.
Livia stepped back sharply, putting distance between them with a speed that shamed him. The cold air returned between their bodies. "I told you, Your Majesty...You will only have me against my will."
Henry straightened, the remnants of desire turning bitter. He had frightened her again. She gathered the robe tighter around herself, and walked out of the library with her head high. The candlelight followed her to the door, then lost her to the corridor beyond.
