Chapter 205: Prince of Northem 3
The prince extended his hand, his fingers long and elegant, the gesture formal yet charged with an unspoken purpose. Lara hesitated for only a heartbeat before offering hers in return, expecting nothing more than a courteous shake. But Prince Reuben had other intentions.
Instead of a firm grasp, he took her hand delicately—almost reverently then, with deliberate grace, lifted it to his lips. His kiss was not brief. It lingered, warm and slow, grazing her skin.
A shiver prickled down Lara’s spine, the fine hairs on her arms rising in alert. Instinctively, she tried to withdraw her hand, tugging with slightly more force than was polite. Reuben’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, startled by her resistance. Instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip ever so slightly, the pressure subtle but unmistakable.
She pulled again—a little harder—and this time he let go, not because he wanted to but because Lara had underestimated her strength and the prince, even if reluctant, had let go. He had no choice. Lara’s pull, was too strong for him.
To ease the embarrassment, the prince tried to ask in a light tone. "And may I ask," he said, his voice dropping into a low, velvety register—smooth and suggestive, the kind of tone modern women would half-jokingly label a ’bedroom voice’—"what name belongs to the hand I’ve had the pleasure of holding?"
Lara arched a brow, her mind racing. Should she give her real name? Lara Norse? Or the one she’d been told to use—Mendel?
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a syllable, another voice cut through the charged air.
"Lara. Her name is Lara Mendel," Prince Alaric answered, his tone cool, clipped.
Lara Mendel? The name sounded good in her ears. Her gaze darted toward Alaric, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. Why Mendel? She wanted to ask, but the question remained trapped between them, suspended in a stare that he met—but did not acknowledge.