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“Dancing?”

I’m confused by the sudden shift in direction, but from the way he’s smiling, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Two can play this game. I’ll get him back later.

“For the wedding. The coronation ball. All the festivities where the kingdom will expect their queen to lead them in celebration.” He strokes my hips. “Can’t have you stumbling around like a newborn alicorn.”

I narrow my eyes. “What makes you think I need to practice? I have plenty of experience dancing.”

Sterling lifts an annoyingly cocky brow. “Dancing in the middle of a crowded ballroom and leading the dance are two entirely different things. It can be a little nerve-racking when all eyes are on you.”

“Then by all means, let’s practice.” I slide off the table and extend one hand toward him while the other poises to rest on his shoulder. The opening stance of the first dance we shared.

“What’s this? No arguing? Compliance?” Sterling’s surprise lasts only a moment before he sweeps into the space I’ve created. He wraps his fingers around mine and molds his other palm to the small of my back. “You’re full of surprises, my queen.”

I toss him a wink as we begin. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

We glide across the floor together, maneuvering between the tables. We dance like we’re made for each other, just like we did at the ball Tirene’s late king threw in my “honor.”

My nose wrinkles. Honor. Please. More like a way for Jasper to flaunt his “prophesied dragoncaller.” Ignoring the fact he planned to use me, breed me, and keep me captive to bolster his standing.

That feels like a lifetime ago.

Sterling draws me closer than necessary, and I suck in a breath as warmth blooms beneath my skin. Dancing with him is like making love upright with our clothes on. There’s something about the way our bodies communicate without words…the push and pull, the give and take.

As Sterling leads me through a spin, my hips graze against his.

His pulls me flush to his body, and his eyes become molten. “Keep teasing me like that, and that gown will wind up shredded. You’ll have to do the walk of shame back to our chambers naked after I spend the next hour worshipping every inch of your delectable body.”

My lungs hitch, the heat in my cheeks mirroring the fire in his gaze. I stand on the tips of my toes and brush my lips across the corner of his mouth. “Tempting as that sounds, do you really want to subject the poor guard to that? He’s right outside the door. Besides, we have more gifts to open.”

Breaking away from the prescribed steps, I drag my fingers along his chest and circle him leisurely.

A feral growl escapes his lips. “I don’t give a fuck who hears us. You should know by now that the only gift I care about is you.”

My heart melts, and happiness blossoms in my chest. For these precious moments, the weight of the crown lifts, and I can temporarily set aside the responsibilities of repairing our shattered kingdom. There is only Sterling, the feel of his hands, the press of his body against mine, the softness of his lips.

“You always know just what to say to make me fall in love with you all over again.”

He catches my hand, spinning me in circles until I’m wrapped in his arms and pinning me with his devious smirk. “Would it ruin the moment to say that you’re also the only gift I care about unwrapping?”

His husky voice thwarts my attempt to fake offense. As we drift across the room, sharing slow, hungry kisses along the way, his sultry eyes mesmerize me. His hand tightens around my waist, and I’m certain he’s going to set me up on a table again, spread my legs, and make good on his promise.

Sterling bump-guides me up against one of the tables near the high window, the gentle impact disturbing the piles of presents. His tongue finds that sensitive spot just below my ear, and I tilt my head to give him better access as my hands clutch at his shoulders.

Something tumbles off the table and drops at our feet with a soft thud.

He pauses, his breath hot against my neck. “What was that?”

I glance down and spot a plain package on the floor, wrapped in brown paper and tied with simple twine. No ribbons, no gold leaf, no official wax seal. Its simplicity stands out amid the ornate wrappings of other presents.

I reluctantly pull away from Sterling to bend and pick up the gift. “I don’t remember seeing this one.”

The package is heavier than I expect and about the size of a bread loaf. I find no card or note to identify the sender.

Sterling frowns. “That shouldn’t be here if it hasn’t been checked by security.”

“Maybe it was.” I turn the gift over in my hands. “Maybe they just failed to rewrap it in fancy paper.”