Chapter 62: Lessons in Manners

"I said it’s fine," Derek growled, turning his head sharply away as Kira reached toward the small cut on his forehead again.

Inside the airy living room, floor-to-ceiling glass doors stood wide open to the deck and the endless stretch of sea beyond. The space smelled faintly of cedar and clean linen, with the distant crash of waves drifting in on the warm breeze.

"No, it’s not fine." She refused to back off. "It’s not healing the way it should. You could get an infection."

They sat side by side on the wide twin sofa. Flora had already set the dining table for two and discreetly disappeared into the kitchen. Kira had commandeered the first-aid kit left on the coffee table and was now determined to clean and cover the wound properly before they ate.

Derek eyed her with open irritation. "It’s because of the plasma and platelet donation this morning," he muttered. "It’ll be closed by tomorrow."

"I know that," Kira said patiently, dipping a fresh cotton bud into the antiseptic bottle. "But I can’t in good conscience leave it until tomorrow."

"Are you a nurse now?" he asked, leaning back just enough to evade her hand.

Kira’s patience snapped. She reached out, caught his jaw in a firm grip, and tugged his face back toward her. Leaning in close, she fixed him with a fierce glare.

"Let. Me. Do..." Her words trailed as she suddenly realised exactly how close their faces were.

Derek froze. His breath brushed her cheek; hers feathered across his lips. The clean citrus scent of him mixed with the faint metallic trace of blood and the sharp bite of antiseptic. Deep inside his chest, Leo gave a long, rumbling purr. His gaze dropped involuntarily to her mouth, soft, rosy, slightly parted, and lingered there a heartbeat too long.

Kira felt the shift in the air between them like static. Her own breath caught, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

A discreet cough from the doorway shattered the moment. They sprang apart. Kira sucked in a sharp breath. Derek exhaled harshly and muttered a curse under his breath, looking away so fast it was almost comical.

Flora stood in the archway, beaming like she had just witnessed the sweetest thing in the world. "I came to say the food is ready whenever you are."

Kira managed a slightly breathless smile. "Thank you so much, Flora."

Flora dipped a small curtsy, still smiling, and retreated.

Derek moved to stand but Kira shoved him back down with both hands on his shoulders. "We’re finishing this first."

He glared at her. "Will that finally make you leave me the fuck alone?"

She beamed, looking thoroughly unrepentant. "For now? Yes."

He let out a long, resigned sigh, slumped back against the cushions, folded his arms across his chest like a sulky teenager, and stared straight ahead.

"Is that a yes?" Kira asked sweetly.

"Will you let go if I say no?"

She shook her head, grin widening. "Nope."

"Then do whatever you have to do."

Kira raised both hands in silent victory and stepped between his knees so she could reach properly. She worked carefully, wiping away the dried blood and dabbing antiseptic. Derek hissed when the antiseptic stung.

"Sorry," she murmured automatically, blowing gently on the wound like she was soothing a scraped knee. "It must sting quite a bit."

He looked up at her then. She was frowning in concentration, bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes focused entirely on what she was doing. She looked... genuinely sorry for him. He’d taken far worse wounds in his life. Most of the time, no one had even noticed, let alone fussed.

The silence stretched for a moment. Then he sighed. "Why are you always so bloody gleeful about everything?"

She glanced at him, brows lifting. "Uh..." She shrugged lightly. "I don’t know. Maybe that’s just how I’m wired."

He scoffed. "Wired my arse. It looks like a lack of seriousness."

"No, it doesn’t." She pressed the plaster down gently. "I choose to be cheerful because happiness shouldn’t depend on the time of year or what’s going right. It’s a choice."

He eyed her. "There’s a time and place for everything. You can’t just bounce around being happy about every single thing."

She smoothed the edges of the plaster, then met his gaze squarely. "Same way you shouldn’t be a jerk to absolutely everyone and about every damn thing."

His eyes widened into a stunned glare, then darkened into something dangerous. "A jer...? What did you just call me?"

She widened her eyes in mock innocence. "Oh goddess, is this the first time anyone’s ever said the word ’jerk’ to you? Has no one ever told you the truth? That’s a shame, really. You’ve been left in the dark."

"Watch your mouth," he growled. "I’m still your King."

Kira gave an exaggerated, sweeping bow. "I’m so terribly sorry, Your Grace. I must have overstepped." She straightened, scrunching her nose. "But seriously, why do you always feel the need to throw your power around with me?" She muttered under her breath, "That lady back at the eatery literally beat you up."

Derek’s eyes widened in astonishment. "Hey! Who beat who up?" he barked. "I let her do that, you dummy." He didn’t even know why he felt the need to explain himself to her right now. Why was she always making him react to everything about her? "Did you really expect me to hit a pregnant woman?" he demanded.

Kira narrowed her eyes at him. "Same way you shouldn’t have said anything cruel to her at all. You could have just ignored them and walked away instead of telling them they don’t deserve a child. That was actually really awful. You don’t know how long they might have been trying. You don’t know anything about their situation. You just assumed the worst and spat venom."

He blinked, visibly thrown by the sudden passion in her voice.

"I don’t care where they come from or what they’re going through," he said stiffly, trying to regain his cold composure. "They should have stayed out of my way."

Kira stared at him for a long beat, then dropped the used cotton bud squarely into his lap. "I’m done patching you up," she said sweetly. "Next time I’ll just let them murder you instead."

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Derek stared after her retreating back in stunned silence until she disappeared around the corner.

Outside in the garden, somewhere among the flowering hibiscus, Alistar’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and answered.

"Lady Genevive?"

"Situation report?" Nana’s voice came through, calm but eager.

Alistar smiled to himself. "Perfect. They just had a couple argument. But from what I could see, Her Highness brings out more emotion in him in ten minutes than anyone else has managed in years, though mostly irritation. I’ve never seen him talk so much, or show so much feeling in one sitting."

Nana let out a soft, relieved sigh. "That’s a relief. Give my love to Flora."

"Will do." Alistar’s smile widened. "Goodnight, Lady Genevive."

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket, still smiling as the sea breeze carried the faint sound of waves rolling against the shore.