The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 829

“Okay.” Charlotte nestled closer into Anthony’s arms, her soft hair brushing across his chest. Her voice was light and sweet. “Let’s see what he’s up to this time.”

First the chase, now satellite surveillance… Charlotte rolled her eyes and started fiddling with the belt around her waist, not realizing it had already come undone. Anthony’s toned, pale chest was on full display.

The air in the room suddenly shifted. Charlotte paused, sensing something different, and slowly looked up.

All she could see was his sculpted chest, way too perfect for real life. Her gaze drifted up to his handsome face. Anthony’s dark eyes locked onto hers, full of something she couldn’t quite read.

They stared at each other for a moment.

Charlotte felt Anthony lean in, his body drawing closer until the space between them disappeared.

Right before his nose brushed hers, she turned her face away and wriggled out of his arms, mumbling, “I’m tired. I need to sleep.”

She made it a few steps before Anthony’s hand closed gently around her wrist. With a soft tug, she landed right back in his lap.

A heartbeat later, he scooped her up and set her down on the bed. Before she could react, her back sank into the soft mattress.

Anthony hovered over her, blocking out the harsh overhead lights, his lips curled in a teasing smile.

Charlotte pressed her lips together, feeling the heat of his gaze. An awkward tension flickered in her eyes. She hated the feeling of being so completely outmatched, pinned down without a chance.

“I said I’m tired. You can’t—”

Her protest cut off as Anthony kissed her. In a split second, all her resolve slipped away.

The room grew warmer, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on Charlotte’s skin.

Her chin rested on his cheek, arms weakly looped around his neck. Half-awake, half-dreaming, she heard Anthony’s voice, rough and low, right by her ear.

Hans stood in the hallway. When he saw Anthony looking so refreshed, he couldn’t help but imagine what had gone on inside. Anthony had told him to wait just a minute. That minute had stretched to three hours.

Three whole hours.

Hans glanced at the closed bedroom door, then at Anthony, tall and composed, and shook his head in sympathy.

Poor Charlotte.

***

Anthony settled into the study, stacking up the reports that Hans, Jackson, and Adonis had pulled together. Every page was about Franco.

Franco, forty-five, the ruler of Solenia. Before he turned twenty, he was one of the privileged sons of a powerful family on the Isle of Veil. Rumor had it he was illegitimate, never truly accepted. Then something happened—something no one could quite explain—and he cut ties with his family for good.