King Lazuli waits for me in the room that houses his pool, wearing a swimsuit that leaves little to the imagination. I suck in my cheeks. I’d expected the king to have thin, doughy arms and a shapeless stomach under all those suits of his. I hadn’t expected him to be toned like a soldier.

Our eyes meet across the room. “Are you going to take off your towel?” he asks.

“As soon as I get more wine.” I probably shouldn’t drink more. I’m already starting to feel a little queasy from the alcohol and overly rich food.

The king grabs my glass from where it rests on the edge of the pool next to the wine bottle, and he brings it over to me. “How about a trade: your glass of wine for the towel.”

Instead of answering him, I take the wine in his hand, down it in two long gulps, and then let go of my towel.

It drops to the ground, and I’m left standing in only a black bikini. The king takes a step back, his expressive eyes brighter than usual. I know what he sees—a lean body toned by war. He might even see some of my fainter scars.

I never thought there was anything particularly beautiful about my body. It is useful, and in my war-torn country, that’s the best I can ask for.

Only now, as Montes’s gaze drinks me in, I realize he’s savoring me like he does his wine. Like I am something rare and refined and he wants to take his time enjoying me. The thought makes me aware of every inch of exposed skin.

He takes my empty glass and sets it on a nearby ledge, his eyes serious. I sway a little on my feet as I watch him; the alcohol is already affecting me.

When the king turns back to me, he bends and scoops my feet out from beneath me.

“What are you doing?” I gasp out.

“What do think I’m doing?” he asks, carrying me to the shallow edge of the pool, where steps trail down into the water.

Alcohol swirls in my stomach, and I’m not sure whether I like the heady way it makes me feel. It’s causing me to notice the way the king’s dark hair curls at the base of his neck, and the golden skin that covers his strong muscles.

My body dips, and I hear the first splash of water as the king steps into the pool. He gazes down at me, and I catch my breath.

I’d never much cared for those epic love stories I’d heard growing up—Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Helen and Paris. All couples who’d placed love above all else; I thought the whole lot of them were idiots. But the way the king is looking at me … now I can see why so many loved those stories. There is something to forbidden passion. One heated look has me feeling like I’m on the edge of a precipice, waiting to jump.

My body dips again as we descend down the last two steps. The water kisses the bare skin of my back, but I’m still staring at the king, and he me.

I blink rapidly. I’m here to seduce the king, not to actually feel something for him. I need to remember that at all times.

To distract myself, I focus on my surroundings. The white walls dance with the strange patterns the water makes. “This place is beautiful.” I forget for a minute that this beauty represents everything I despise about the king. Right now I’m able to let go of some of my hate.

“If you think this is beautiful, you should see the pool at my official headquarters.”

“Is that an offer?” I joke, still staring at the beautiful light that dances above us.

“It is.”

My gaze snaps back to the king. “You should seriously leave the lying for the cameras,” I say.

We move into deeper water. “I’m not lying,” he says, his eyes trained on me.

I blink at him. He’s serious. “Why would you invite me?” I ask.

“Because I enjoy your company.” His statement is proof that he’s out of his mind. I’ve been nothing but mean and malicious to him.

“I hate you, remember?” With all the alcohol thrumming through my system, I can’t put emotion behind the words.

“I’m starting to think you don’t, though.” His eyes laugh at me.

I push myself out of his arms, enjoying the way the water ripples over my skin. I do hate the king, just not right now. In the morning I will.

I hope.

I swim over to where the wine bottle sits. “I think I need more alcohol for this conversation.” I’m actually feeling plenty buzzed as it is, but I do need to change the subject before the king corners me into agreeing to the visit.

Just as I reach for the bottle, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I jolt at the sight of King Lazuli. I hadn’t heard him swim up next to me.

He grabs the wine bottle and moves it out of my reach. “I think you’ve had enough for now, Serenity.” I shiver at the way he says my name. “Me on the other hand …” He flashes me a wicked smile before he tips the bottle back and takes a drink from it.

My abs clench at the sight of him. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was feeling lustful. He sets the bottle down, and when his eyes meet mine, heat pools low in my stomach.

“Let’s play a game,” I say quickly. He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll ask you a question, and you can choose to answer it, but if you decide not to, you’re going to have to take a sip of wine.” That’ll loosen his lips.

The grin he gives me is full of mischief. “I’ll play your little game, but only if I’m allowed to ask questions as well.”

I nod. “Okay.” I can live with that. “I’ll start you off with an easy one: what’s your favorite color?”