Marissa Day by The Surrender of Lady Jane

their mutual desire was already strong enough for her to reach out, all unwitting, and touch him. He had already seen she possessed a remarkable strength of character, as well as passion that matched her physical beauty. It was not impossible that her mind could already be in tune with their bond. He could reach out to her now, brush her thoughts, let her sense that he was there and thinking of her...
    “Take care, Thomas Lynne.”
    Thomas swung around. Fiora had not moved from her place on the sofa, but the withered little woman had straightened and hardened. The blue eyes he had thought dim a moment before glittered keenly. “One might suspect you were beginning to feel something for the woman.”
    “Of course not.” Thomas waved his hand dismissively. “I am Her Majesty’s servant.”
    “As was I.”
    Thomas’s guts clenched. Yes, she had been, once. But years ago, Fiora had broken the strictest law of the Fae court by daring to fall in love with one of the queen’s chosen knights. Worse, the foolish man had loved her in return. Of course they’d both tried to hide their affair, and of course they’d been found out. In the Fae realms, even the wind reported to Their Glorious Majesties.
    Queen Tatiana had been transcendent in her fury. Sexual congress was permitted among the mortals admitted to the Fae court, but never love. They pledged their hearts to her, and her alone.
    Fiora was the lucky one. She’d only been banished back to the mortal world. But, the false knight, her lover . . . Thomas clenched his jaw. That man had been sent to much harsher kingdoms to pay his traitor’s debt.
    Thomas forced himself to consider his walk with Jane. Had he ever truly been in danger of such betrayal? No, surely not. For one thing, it was far too soon. Love, genuine love, took time. It must. Love required intimacy and respect, and above all trust. He had enjoyed Jane’s smiles and her company, but he would have enjoyed as much with any beautiful woman, especially if he had taken her as a lover. It was the memory of their passion that made him wish Oxford Street had stretched on for miles, and that the inconvenient Madame Levant had set her shop at the far end.
    We are not friends.
    The echo of Jane’s voice came swiftly back to him. He’d felt those words like a blow. No, it wasn’t the words that hit him. It was his wish for them not to be true.
    Which was reasonless. What did he care for her friendship? She was nothing but the exploitable weakness of a house to which his queen required entry. Magic worked by the shaping of intent. An invitation carried with intent, backed with genuine desire and need, became a powerful force. He’d fuck Lady Jane for as long as it took to embed desire of him in the depths of her body. Desire would bring as much trust as he needed, and she would invite him into the house. She’d desire him to be with her, and the strength of that desire would make a grappling hook to pull him through the wards around Kensington House. Each time he passed through, he would make a crack, a small leak in the hull created by those wards. Soon that leak would grow large enough to let the Fae queen’s tide flood in.
    For that mission, he only needed to inflame Jane’s desire. Her friendship was neither here nor there.
    She’ ll hate me soon enough as it is.
    He pictured Jane’s face drawn tight in anger, and his breath caught in his throat. She would not understand that what he did was for the good of her and her people. Their Glorious Majesties would bring the peace of their immortal reign to the isle of Britain, saving it from the fools and fops that now circled the throne. In their single, unchanging rule, there would be no more intrigues over power and money; no wars of succession or religion.
    Thomas remembered his mother kneeling in church when he was a boy, tight-lipped and white with fear, her eyes fixed rigidly on the Host, which the priest elevated. They were not there because they believed