Chapter 11 #2
“Noted. If they give you lip, send them my way. I need someone to beat on tonight.” Anything to get rid of this pent-up…
Well, he’d go with frustration. It covered a lot of what was wrong with him at present.
Sighing, he glanced back to his fake brother. He never really realized how much Masakage had meant to him until the last few days of dealing with someone pretending to be him. It also reminded him of what Dash had always said—Xaydin was hard to get along with.
Yes, I am.
Yet Masakage had rarely gotten on his nerves.
Oddly enough, Gisela, so far, had yet to get on his nerves.
That latter statement was a rarity he was grateful for.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will knife the bastard for us.
If only he was that lucky. But it’d never happen.
With a sigh, he downed the rest of his drink and tossed coins on the table as a tip for their waiter. Then, he headed off for the stairs to get some well-needed sleep so that he’d have enough patience on the morrow to deal with his fake brother.
Gisela sighed as she rinsed her hair. She missed having warm baths. The one thing about Meara’s court that was nice…
Her mother’s bathing room. Even now she could feel the warm water as she sank below it.
Of course, she could only use it in the wee hours of the night when she was certain her mother was asleep. Even though she had permission to use it, her mother would fly into a fit of rage if Gisela dared be in it should her mother want to bathe.
Her jaw currently ached from being clenched tight to keep from chattering. She’d always hated taking frigid baths.
It is what it is.
Suddenly, the door behind her opened.
She turned with a gasp to catch Xaydin there with an equally shocked expression. Before she could gather her wits, he quickly shut the door and gave her his back.
“Sorry! I had no idea you’d be bathing.”
She grabbed her clothes and quickly threw them on. “Freezing more than bathing…I didn’t think you’d come up so soon.” Normally, he stayed downstairs for at least an hour before coming to bed. “You can turn around. I’m covered…and thank you.”
“For what?”
She clutched her shirt tight against her neck. “Not shaming me or recoiling from my scars.”
“I didn’t see any scars.”
Then he must not have really looked at her. They were impossible to miss. It was one of the reasons why she’d never wear a dress or anything that didn’t conceal her entire body. She hated the sight of them.
They were everywhere.
Especially on her soul.
She picked up her towel from the floor and returned to drying her hair.
His eyes twinkled as he glanced at her before making his pallet on the floor. “I wondered how you managed to smell so fresh every day.”
Gisela had to press her lips together to keep from saying something insulting. She didn’t want to go there, but it did make her curious about one thing. “I’ve noticed you don’t have the same thick cloud of horse enveloping you that our imposter does.”
“I bathe in the morning…outside.”
That was what she figured. “Isn’t it even colder than this?” She gestured at the basin and pitcher she’d been using.
“Cold as the dead. But it drives away all sleepiness and puts me into fighting shape.”
That made sense, but she’d rather be less of a fighter than combat the morning chill. Just the thought of it sent a shiver over her.
From the corner of her eye, she watched him.
He was a spectacular specimen. Gorgeous and gruff, yet kind when it came to her. She’d never been around anyone like him before.
Never spent this much time alone with any man.
Or woman for that matter.
“You don’t wench much, do you?”
His jaw went slack. “Pardon?”
“No insult. Just an observation. You watch those around you for potential threats. Not for bedmates.”
“As do you.”
“Exactly. That’s how I know you’re not much for wenching. I find that very curious.”
“Why?” he asked.
Sitting on the bed, she shrugged. “You’re a handsome one. A prince, even. I see the way women look at you…and sometimes the men, too.”
“So do I. Like a prized stallion up for auction.”
She caught the irritated note in his voice. Though whether it came from her questions or the truth, she wasn’t sure. “I thought all men wanted to be studs for whatever broodmare would shelter them.”
He scoffed as he pulled off his boots. “Not those of us with bounties on our heads. No wench is worth a knife in my throat because I couldn’t hold my lust.”
He had a point. Seducing a man was an easy way to end him. She’d used that tactic herself.
“Most men aren’t so reserved.”
He gave her a dry stare. “Most people are stupid.”
“Fair enough.” But even so, she imagined that he’d had more than his share of women. He carried himself with confidence and it made her wonder about him. “So, what catches your attention?”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve not seen you take notice of anyone for a bedmate.” Which was unusual for a man of normal looks and swagger. For one of his ilk, it was unheard of. “What does it take for you to go there?”
Xaydin was absolutely stunned by her unexpected question. One that seemed completely out of character for her. “Why do you ask?”
Her eyes widened as if she suddenly realized what she was asking. “I…uh…I didn’t mean that! It’s not… Forget it!” She quickly turned her back to him.
Amused, he unbuckled his weapons and laid them on the floor, within reach. “If you must know, my lady, I look for those who aren’t trying to get my attention. I like a good challenge in all things.”
And she was definitely challenging.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gently combed her wet hair.
A hundred thoughts and images went through him. None of them appropriate.
Put her out of your mind.
Definitely easier said than done. She was thoroughly captivating as she ran her hands through her hair.
He could imagine doing the same while he buried his face against the nape of her neck and just inhaled her soft, rosy scent.
He didn’t know how she managed it, but she always smelled divine. Even after an entire day of riding.
The woman held her own unique magic. He wouldn’t have thought anything could be stronger than the magic Candara brewed in her cauldron.
He was wrong.
And he wasn’t about to pressure her or anyone else. His life was screwed up enough. The last thing he wanted was to screw up someone else’s.
Gisela tucked the comb away in her saddlebag and took a quick glance toward Xaydin. He lay on the floor, with his back to her.
How strange that she’d become accustomed to his presence. She no longer slept fretfully at night.
I’ve begun to trust.
And that terrified her more than anything else she’d ever experienced.
She trusted someone. Trusted them enough to sleep in their presence.
Why? She had no idea. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t turn on her. No reason to think he wouldn’t become a monster hell-bent on her utter destruction.
Her mother could kiss the cheek of a lover one minute and then watch them be gutted in front of her, minutes later. Little to no reason on most days.
That capriciousness had always left her on edge. The feeling that whomever she was with would pop off and start attacking for no reason.
She hadn’t seen anything to make her think Xaydin was one of them.
Still…
Regret was a hard thing to live with. She knew because she regretted much of her life.
And what will I regret tomorrow?
That question had barely gone through her mind before she knew one thing she’d definitely regret.
Xaydin.
He was within arm’s reach.
But did he feel anything for her? That was the other important question. He was as guarded as she was. Impossible to tell what he felt or thought.
There’s only one way to find out…
It was terrifying. Just like he was.
Mostly because she’d never been with a man before. Not that she hadn’t had a chance to or that some hadn’t tried to force themselves on her, but because she’d never been interested in them.
At all.
Xaydin changed that.
He made her want to take something for herself. To know what it would be like to lay with a man. It was something she hadn’t thought about in years. Back when she’d been young, she’d tried to imagine what sort would interest her.
As a woman…
No one came to mind. Not until Xaydin had slammed into her life.
For that alone, she should thank her mother.
Don’t.
That single word hovered in her mind. If she did this, it would change her forever. She might even conceive his child.
A pregnant assassin. Her mother would definitely throw her out.
Or have her executed. Most likely executed. After all, her mother was nothing if not a hypocrite.
But in the end, it was her curiosity and desire that got the better of her. Her mother had always said it would lead her to her damnation.
Tonight, that led her straight toward the arms of a man who should be her enemy. Yet this was where she wanted to be.
“Make love to me, Xaydin.”