The Manipulator
THE MANIPULATOR
A s the last lyrics of the haunting song died away, Tabian took one look at Katerina’s cagey expression and knew that she planned to bolt. He couldn’t let that happen. The crowd clapped and cheered their approval as Katerina took a graceful bow.
“Thank you,” the curly-haired man said loudly as he rose from his seat. He strode over and stood next to Katerina before slipping his arm around her shoulders with practiced ease. “Isn’t she wonderful? Let’s give her another round of applause.”
Katerina smiled and waved at her admirers, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Meanwhile, Tabian pushed his way through the observers and moved off to the side where he could have a clear view of the platform. He thought Katerina might flee that very instant, but she didn’t.
“Thank you for coming out this evening,” the curly-haired man said. “This concludes our birthday celebration.” He paused dramatically. “Lady Ravenshire,” he continued with a tone of importance,” happy birthday from all of us. We’re so grateful for you and for all that you do for our village.”
The heartfelt accolade brought more clapping, and then the crowd began to disperse. Tabian watched as Katerina spoke to Lady Ravenshire and the others at the table. She wore a smile on her face, but her body was taut with tension. Time was of the essence. He hurried forward, went up the steps of the platform, and strode over to Katerina, whose expression went rigid when she saw him.
He threw her a smug smile. “We meet again.”
She only glared at him.
“What? No word of greeting for your old friend.” He made a point of looking at her lips as he leaned closer and spoke in a low tone. “After all, we shared so much together that enchanted night in the garden.”
The hitch of her breath was barely perceptible, but he caught it.
It evoked something in him—something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. He noted a faint dusting of freckles across her upturned nose. Her skin was paler than he remembered. Perhaps it was because she was suffering from her wounded shoulder, or perhaps it was the worry of getting caught. Stripped of her enchanting aura, Katerina was still stunningly beautiful. However, she was flesh and blood—fallible and vulnerable like him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against the bodice of her dress. She was afraid.
“What do you want?” she growled, tightening her hands into fists. “Wasn’t shooting me enough?”
Before Tabian could launch a rebuttal, Lady Ravenshire stepped up and offered a dazzling smile. “Hello,” she began in a cultured tone. “Are you new to Cloverfeld?”
“Just traveling through,” he said pleasantly.
Curiosity lit her dark eyes. “Oh? What brings you to our humble village?”
He looked at Katerina, an easy smile spreading over his lips. This is where he needed to come across as charming and affable. He needed to behave like Lucien. “During one of my many travels, I had the good fortune to cross paths with this lovely maiden. When I saw Katerina’s exquisite shoes, I asked her who made them. She told me about her father. She also described this charming village as not far from the seashore, where she loves to walk. I couldn’t resist coming here to see if the notable cobbler—Bartholomew—would agree to make some slippers for my fiancée.”
Katerina smirked when she heard the word fiancée.
Lady Ravenshire’s brows lifted. “Is there some sort of tension between you two?”
“Nay, mi’ lady,” Tabian said easily, “Katerina and I are merely acquaintances.”
“Where are you from?” the middle-aged woman inquired. “You have a distinct accent.”
“The Kingdom of Verdermere.”
Lady Ravenshire was amused. “And you came all this way for a pair of shoes?”
“Aye, for my fiancée.”
Katerina pursed her lips, exhaling a hum. “How is your fiancée, by the way?” Her voice turned soft and musing. “Arabella, wasn’t it?” She tapped a finger against her chin. “She must miss you terribly while you’re gone.”
His spine stiffened as he locked eyes with her. “Aye, but I’ll soon return … bringing her back something that she’ll treasure for many years to come. It’s not every day that a person gets the chance to capture something of such rare beauty.”
Color brushed her cheeks in a rosy hue, her gaze sharpening with awareness. She lowered her eyes, her thick lashes brushing against her soft skin. Then she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes holding an intensity that quivered warmth through him. “Exactly what type of treasure are you hoping to capture?”
“One she’ll value more than gold,” he murmured. The connection between them was as bold and powerful as a streak of lightning. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was thrilling. And dangerous.
Realizing they had an audience, he pushed out a throaty chuckle. “In a manner of speaking. We are talking about shoes.” He made a point of looking at Lady Ravenshire. “As impressive as Bartholomew’s shoes are, they are just shoes, after all. No offense.”
“No offense taken by me,” she laughed. “I’m sure Bartholomew would answer the same.”
Katerina cocked her head, a speculative look simmering in her blue eyes.
“Didn’t you say that you have a brother? Lucien?”
Irritation bubbled in Tabian’s throat. She just had to jab a knife in his gut.
“I’m sure he’s taking good care of Arabella while you’re gone,” she said sweetly, her expression carefully schooled into one of innocence.
Now, she was twisting the blade deeper into his flesh. Wicked, wicked woman. Time for him to return the favor. He pointed. “What happened to your shoulder?”
Her eyes charged with heat, but her voice remained conversational. “I climbed up a ladder to pick some ripe yellow apples from off a tree. And wouldn’t you know? I took a fall.” She winced, touching her shoulder. “I slammed down onto the ground so hard that it felt like an arrow went through me.” She threw him a blistering glare.
He grimaced. “That must’ve been painful.”
Her lips curled into a smirk. “You have no idea.”
“How long do you plan to stay in Cloverfeld?” Lady Ravenshire interjected.
“As long as it takes.” He made a point of looking at Katerina and then smiled at Lady Ravenshire. “For Bartholomew to craft the shoes.”
“You must dine with me tomorrow night.”
Tabian cringed inwardly. “I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense.” She turned to Katerina. “You and your father should come as well. I insist,” she finished firmly, clearly accustomed to getting her way in all matters.
Katerina nodded. “Tomorrow night.”
“Excellent.” Lady Ravenshire graced Tabian with a noble smile. “I hope you find that treasure you seek.” Her dark eyes sparked with amusement as she looked at Katerina. “Be it a pair of shoes … or something else.”
A deep blush crept over Katerina’s cheeks.
“Tomorrow night.” She eyed Tabian, waiting for a commitment.
“Tomorrow night,” he repeated with a note of acceptance.
With that, Lady Ravenshire turned her back on them and began talking to the others nearby.
Tabian clenched his jaw. “We need to talk.”
Katerina glanced around at the thinning crowd. “Not here. Let’s go someplace where we can be alone.”
He clipped out a short laugh. “So you can put another spell on me?”
“So we can talk.” She lifted her chin, eyes blazing. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It is.” He held out his arm in mock gallantry. “Allow me to lead you.”
She thrust her uninjured arm through his. “You should’ve never come here. It was a huge mistake.”
“You’re the one who made the mistake when you decided to steal from my tree.”
She barked out a short laugh. “Oh, so now it’s your tree?” Her voice took on the silky hiss of a snake about to strike. “And here I thought it belonged to the Kingdom of Verdermere.”
“Let’s go,” Tabian growled, tired of her games. “Where to?” He glanced around, looking for a secluded spot.
“This way.” Katerina cast a final glance at the remaining festival goers before leading him toward a quieter, shadowed corner of the village square. The torches cast flicks of unnatural light over her features, accentuating shadows that highlighted the tension in her jaw. Her eyes held a steely determination. Even wounded, she was dangerous.
“Is there someplace more private?”
She jerked her arm away from his grasp. “This will have to do. I’m not about to go off to some secluded place where you’ll take advantage of me,” she said savagely.
A hard laugh scratched his throat. “Me take advantage of you?” He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a warning. “You’re the one who took advantage of me.”
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “And just how do you figure that?”
“Don’t play coy,” he scoffed. “You wove your enchantment and made me so thirsty I could’ve drunk my own sweat. Then you tried to compel me to submit to your will. You would’ve forced me to drink whatever liquid was in your cursed flask had I not gotten wise to you.” He pinned her with accusing eyes. “That concoction gave me an awful rash. My tongue burned for days.”
A wicked grin curled her lips. “Well, you’re wagging your tongue incessantly, so it would seem that you’re no worse for the wear.”
He caught a slight hitch in his breath when he stepped closer. “Do you make a practice out of toying with people, or did you reserve that curse for me?”
Something akin to need deepened her eyes to the color of the sea after a storm. “You’re …” She looked at his mouth.
“What?” he demanded.
A wistful sigh escaped her lips. “Never mind.” She blinked several times like she’d forgotten herself for a moment. Then her expression masked into something impish as she peered up at him with a lovestruck expression. “We had such a nice time together.” She stepped even closer. “Stimulating conversation … a fair amount of heat …” She grazed her fingers along his jawline with tantalizing persuasion that caused his breath to come faster. Then he caught the smug flicker in her expression when she thought she had him.
With a swift movement, he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. He expected her to stiffen, but she molded against him as naturally as his bowstring bent to his adept hand. Her warm breath came faster against his throat. She was so incredibly beautiful. So bewitching.
So manipulative.
She used her beauty as a weapon to ensnare gullible half-wits like himself.
He grunted. “Your seduction tactics won’t work this time. He tightened his grip just enough to remind her who had the upper hand.
She parted her lips, her chest rising and falling in quick succession. Her eyes were luminous, vulnerable.
He leaned so close that their lips were almost touching. “We’re not doing this again.”
Irritation snapped in her eyes. “You’re hurting my shoulder,” she pouted.
He released his hold on her. She stepped back and primly adjusted the skirt of her frock. “Why’re you here?” she sniffed. “You stopped me from taking the apple. You injured me.” She tossed him a look of condemnation. “You won. Isn’t that enough?”
His words came rushing out. “I told you that night in the garden. Because of you, an innocent man is scheduled to be executed.” His stomach twisted. “A man who’s like a father to me.” His voice shook with fury. “You’ll go back with me to Verdermere and set things straight—either willingly or as my prisoner.”
She wavered, just for a moment, and then her expression grew hard. She got in his face. “One word from me, and you’ll be arrested here in Cloverfeld. And you’re the one who’ll be executed.”
Disgust rose acid up his throat. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then, there would be no one to bear witness to your treachery. Does your father know about your secret life?”
Something he couldn’t discern trickled into her expression. “You leave him out of this.”
“He seems like a kind, noble man. I’m sure he’d be devastated to learn that his daughter is nothing more than a common thief.”
“You know nothing about me,” she seethed.
“How about Lady Ravenshire? If a woman of her influence caught wind of your treachery, you wouldn’t be so highly regarded.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me,” he demanded, catching hold of her wrist. “Tell me so I’ll understand how you can stand back and let an innocent man die because of your actions.”
Something shifted in her eyes, and he caught the echo of the same despair he’d detected that night in the garden. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke. “It was never my intent to hurt you or Garrin.”
He was surprised that she remembered Garrin’s name.
“There you are,” Bartholomew exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over.” He shuffled towards them, a deep frown forming over his mouth when he saw Tabian’s hand wrapped around Katerina’s wrist.
Quickly, Tabian let her go.
“For two people who only met in passing, you certainly seemed to be engaged in a heated conversation.” Suspicion hung heavy in his voice as his questioning gaze moved over them.
“I have to go.” Katerina stepped away.
Tabian narrowed his eyes. “We’re not finished here.”
“Tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll talk to you at the shop tomorrow when you place the order for your fiancée’s shoes.”
He smirked at the singe of irony in her tone. Her sharp tongue knew just how to cut.
With a nimble step, she went to her father’s side and slipped her uninjured arm through his. She had the audacity to glance back and throw Tabian a triumphant smirk. Then she turned her attention to Bartholomew, her voice solicitous. “Let’s get you home, Father.” Her hair bounced lightly on her shoulders as she went.
She thought she’d won. He touched the dagger at his waist, his mind racing. He’d follow her home.
He thought of his horse, which was tied to a post. If he went to get it, he would run the risk of losing sight of Katerina. He’d have to leave the horse and his provisions for now. If Katerina and Bartholomew traveled on horseback or in a wagon or carriage, he’d be forced to get his horse in order to catch up. However, if they went on foot, he’d trail behind them and watch the house. A plan began to take shape.
He'd watch Katerina’s home, and when she turned in for the night, he’d sneak in and take her.