Page 21 of Blood Code

“Keira, how do you feel about it all? Have you been worried sick for your love?”

Did these people not understand this was an arranged marriage? Why would I care that much? Keira barely knew Severin.

But they wanted a fairy tale, so I would give them one.

“It was terrifying.” I forced my voice to shake. “Seeing him hurt so much was terrifying.”

“Yet this is the first we have seen of you at the hospital,” a blonde reporter in the back said, venom in her voice. “Doesn’t look like you care about your fiancé.”

I went still, narrowing my eyes. What was this woman’s problem? Was she one of Severin’s ladies? Was she upset he had a new woman in his life?

My glower could blaze a thousand ships. I opened my mouth to snap back, but Severin beat me to it.

“Keira was lovingly by my side for the first seven days I was here. During my coma and then after, when I woke up, I was in extreme agony getting my burns cleaned and dressed. She held my hand through it all.”

I shifted my feet uncomfortably and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was defending me. Well, defending Keira.

I leaned into him, faking affection, and whispered, “Wow, you’re such a good liar.”

He reached out and caressed my face, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind my ear. Our eyes locked, and tension curled between us as butterflies stirred in me, their wings tickling my stomach.

Suddenly, it felt like we were twenty again—back when my biggest worry was whether we were exclusive. And just like back then, he made me feel giddy.

His thumb lingered on my face, its rough, calloused edge tracing my jawline.

My skin hummed with awareness; every bit of me reacted to his touch. I felt it in the arm he still had curled protectively around my waist, in the contact of our torsos, and in his thumb inviting me to lean even closer.

“Kiss the girl,” someone in the crowd shouted, and two more people repeated it before it turned into a chant.

Panic squeezed my chest, and I stared into his darkening azure eyes. Would he do it? Give in to the crowd and kiss me?

The answer, of course, was yes. His hand left my waist and rose to cup my face. I watched him lean into me, his lips hovering over mine. His breath caressed my lips before he did. The anticipation stretched into an eternity.

It may have been five seconds, but if you told me it was three hours, I would have believed you.

A shock shot through me as his lips finally touched mine.

A show kiss for the cameras, like the prince would give his bride on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, but it was so, so much more than that.

Time froze, but the sound didn’t. Camera shutters clicked, and the crowd’s screams slammed through me, but most of all, I broke under the weight of his kiss. Severin Volkov, my first love. The man I’d given everything to.

This was supposed to be a stage kiss for the cameras, but it was turning into something far, far worse.

Severin didn’t deepen the kiss, and neither did I, but my body caught fire anyway.

Nothing could stop the inferno of lust within me.

An inferno I had to stamp out right now.

I pulled back suddenly and plastered the biggest fake smile I could muster on my lips.

Severin winced, clutching his chest in pain. The man was still covered in burns, and the paparazzi wanted him to perform like a show pony.

Fury churned through my blood. I fucking hated those vultures.

“We really should be getting you home, my love,” I said in a bright soprano voice, then guided him through the crowd to our car.

I’d had enough of the press for one day.