Chapter 2
It was quite a delight to see the prick’s eyes widen abruptly. An unexpected bonus, Rapunzel thought as she admired the results of her work; shocking him hadn’t even been her primary reason for uttering those words.
Dangerous words, of course. Forbidden words.
But the alf warrior below her window was right: Orin’s tower did not provide her with everything, and the one thing it lacked in particular …
an answer to the questions itching on her skin at night.
Nothing she needed, but from the hints in her books and her guardian’s blushes, she suspected it was certainly something she wanted.
So she smiled and waited until the alf finally uttered a laugh just not convincingly indifferent. “Men.”
“Yes,” Rapunzel said pleasantly, ignoring the nervous flutters in her stomach. “A category to which you belong. Which suggests you might fill a vacancy.” She giggled. “Don’t take that too literally.”
He was certainly taking it literally. His bewildered eyes flashed over her body, leaving an odd but pleasant tingling behind, and back to her face.
“Lady Hadewych …” he started, a pair of very fine shoulders tensing below his blue linen shirt.
“And stop the ‘Lady Hadewych,’” Rapunzel interrupted. “Call me Rapunzel, like any sensible person. I might even start believing you’re one of them.”
“Rapunzel?” He scoffed. “They’re calling you a little turnip?”
“Better than a pain in the ass, which is what I’d call you.”
A sneer threatened to curl his upper lip; she nearly laughed. “And yet you’d show me the secrets of this tower?”
“Not just of the tower,” Rapunzel said and smiled her naughtiest smile. She didn’t have a lot of practice with those, but judging by the way his sharp jaw clenched, she wasn’t doing too poorly.
“Why?” It was nearly a snap.
“Your pretty face, Lord Favorite.” She twirled a loose strand of hair around her fingers, one of the short plucks at her temple that wouldn’t grow long with the rest of her braid. “It’s utterly irresistible.”
Such an easy lie, because it was barely a lie at all.
He was damned handsome, even beneath that haughty arrogance.
A skin like ivory, tousled blond locks. Muscles as deadly as the sword on his back and lake-blue eyes, a bright summer’s day come to life …
She wasn’t quite sure what she’d find if she were to strip those tight trousers off him, but she dared to trust it wouldn’t disappoint.
Not a lie, indeed. But not the full truth either.
Other handsome men had stood in his spot, some even eager to fill that same vacancy.
None of them had been here with violent intentions, though.
They’d stood below her window and begged, pleaded, for just the smallest gemstone, anything to help their families survive the winter …
Breaking Gothel’s rules and subjecting them to the fury of Orin’s most fearsome priestess—her curiosity wasn’t worth that risk.
This alf warrior, though …
An arrogant bastard and a liar, too. He deserved whatever Gothel came up with.
So she reveled in her near-truth as she smiled another enticing smile at him. A wise man would pay no heed to her flattery. But for all his arrogance and battle-prowess, Egill was certainly not a wise man, and she could see the temptation take shape in his mind.
All part of the game, of course. Alves could travel to the other side of the world in the blink of an eye; he’d try to drag her out as soon as he came within reach. But Orin’s magic didn’t allow fading within the walls of the tower, and if she could distract him for long enough …
She’d have her answers and be rid of him. Not a bad prospect.
“Well,” he said. His smile was close to a smirk. “If that’s the situation, let us combine the pleasant and the useful. Please show me the entrance, Lady Ha … Rapunzel.”
“You wouldn’t mind taking off your weapons, would you?” she said sweetly.
Obviously, he minded. His hesitation told her he’d indeed planned to drag her out as soon as she let him. And yet … Those two heartbeats were all he needed to take the knives from his boots and belt and leave them with his bag and coat.
Only his sword took him longer—an alf’s worst nightmare, Gothel said, to be separated from his blade. He had to be very determined to kidnap her to go through with this.
Rapunzel almost chuckled. But she didn’t allow her na?ve smile to waver as she curled her hands around her braid and let it down over the windowsill.
And down.
And down.
And down.
Egill’s eyes widened as the full length of her braid appeared, sinking to the foot of the tower. “What in hell …”
“There’s the first secret for you,” Rapunzel said brightly, gripping the windowsill. “Just climb up. It’s strong enough—we treat it with hazelnut oil every fortnight.”
He didn’t seem particularly interested in the details of her hair routine. Tapping against her braid, he said sharply, “Isn’t that … uncomfortable?”
Not nearly as uncomfortable as being abducted, Rapunzel almost reminded him. “Not if you’re a decent climber, Lord Favorite.”
A last moment he hesitated. Then, with a brusque motion, he grabbed a handful of braid and wrapped it around his wrist. She barely felt his first tug, his movements infinitely more graceful, more alluring, than those of inexperienced priestesses.
Pleasant and useful, indeed.
He climbed with catlike ease, muscles straining temptingly. She’d have liked to believe it was nervousness that sent her heart thumping so eagerly in her chest, but there was little sense in lying to herself; that eminently male body was responsible for at least half the palpitations.
He clasped the windowsill as it came within reach and hauled himself inside with a last display of bulging biceps and thighs.
Rapunzel reflexively jolted away as he settled his feet on her floor and stood straight, every muscular inch of him suddenly very, very close.
Orin help her. He hadn't seemed this tall from above. And not this … tantalizing either.
She swallowed, her dangling braid forgotten, as he rolled his shoulders and blinked at the crystalline walls of her living room.
He smelled masculine, too. The first whiff of him—sweet and citrusy and oddly golden—made her mouth water in most disconcerting ways, calling up images of sparkling water and sunrises and …
“So it’s true?” Egill said.
His hoarse voice shook her from her heated thoughts. His eyes had narrowed at the rough quartz covering the walls, the crystal of the table surface, the geodes serving as candleholders.
Right. Handsome or not, he was still the same greedy bastard.
“My powers? Of course it’s true.” Rapunzel sent him a sweet viper smile as she reeled in her hair. “That god abducting me mostly protected me from dastardly opportunists using me for their own benefit, you see.”
The alf didn’t wince as he met her gaze, one eyebrow raised. “Dastardly, indeed.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling even more sweetly, pulling the last feet of her braid back inside and dropping it to the spotless floor. “Thankfully, you’d never do such a thing, would you? You’re here for very noble purposes only, yes?”
His eyes seemed even bluer as he studied her face. He still couldn’t make sense of her, could he? Still couldn’t acknowledge that perhaps he wasn't the most brilliant mind in the room?
With an abrupt motion, he stepped closer and wrapped both hands around her upper arms—large, calloused hands, but there was a softness to their touch, his hold just a little more gentle than she’d expected.
In any other place, he’d have been able to transport them both to wherever he wanted now. In Orin’s tower, however …
Nothing moved.
She saw the realization rise in his eyes. Held his gaze and saw him recalculate his steps all over again. He’d climbed up here with the intention of betraying her and magicking her away, and if that wasn’t possible …
“Of course,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “Exclusively noble intentions.”
Excellent.
At least he’d go to his grave pleasantly.
She wondered what he’d been planning. Abduct her for his own greedy reasons—but what would he have bought with the diamonds she could make him? Land? Power? Women? The hands trailing down her arms with breathtaking gentleness didn’t suggest he needed gold to bring anyone into his bed …
Did it matter?
In a surge of courage, she took half a step closer, drawing his intoxicating scent into her lungs. His previous intentions were of no concern. He was here, driving away the loneliness. If she wanted to make the most of this chance, she shouldn’t be wasting a minute.
“So?” she managed.
There were probably more sensual things experienced women might say, but judging by the flicker in his summer-sky eyes, this did the job. The expression quirking around his lips was an invitation as much as a smile.
“Impatient, my little mage?”
His voice had lowered to a purr. Oh, he might have intended to abduct her before they got to this point, but he didn’t mind the change of plans at all.
Rapunzel swallowed, knees wobbling in what might be nervousness as much as that far more dangerous, far more confusing hunger trailing through her lower belly.
“Not your mage,” she muttered defiantly, even though his hands on her arms were making alarming attempts to lay claim to every inch of skin they passed.
He chuckled. “Allow me to change your mind about that.”
Such an arrogant bastard, but then again … Rapunzel closed her eyes, feeling nothing but those feathery fingertips over her bare arms. At least if he was trying to change her mind, he’d make an effort. And perhaps, just perhaps, some of that arrogance was justified.
One hour.
No time to lose.
She breathed, “Do your best.”
“Are you sure?” He laid one hand beneath her chin, a strong finger tipping her head up. Lazy, confident amusement—but there was a hint of restraint in his eyes. “If you’d prefer to exchange pleasantries and have a cup of tea first, I …”