Chapter Four #2
Muttering under my breath so as not to let the waiting guard hear me calling a noble envoy a festering pain in my arse, I broke the dark red wax seal of a scorpion with my thumb and opened the short missive.
Dearest Pasil,
I have come up with the most wonderous idea to aid you in your search for relief from the contractures of your duties. Come to my suite with all due haste.
Yours under the holy light of Shamsira—
Teryn
“I am going to throttle this man,” I growled lowly.
“You said something to me, Captain?” the feminine voice on the other side of my door asked.
“No, I was merely speaking to myself. Hold, and I shall reply to the mahouk.” I stomped to my desk, naked and wet and partially aroused, and threw some words on a blank sheaf of vellum.
Folding it in half, I sent it off without even a seal.
A shove under the door was the extent of the reply’s care from me.
“He gets five minutes,” I told the wardrobe as I yanked it open.
Once I had explained to the man that I had plans in town, he could take his “wonderous idea” and shove it deeply up his tight little arse.
Not that I knew that his arse was tight.
His robing covered everything from shoulders to knees, allowing only dark bare calves in fashionable leather sandals to be seen.
Men and women of the Isles dressed in the same manner, loose-fitting light robes to allow their bodies to cool in the heat of their home islands.
“Five minutes and then I am tossing whatever coin I have to the nearest whore I can find.” To hell with searching for the stablehand.
Pulling on a linen tunic of dark blue, some trousers, a belt with a coin pouch and a sheath for my eating dagger, and soft kid boots, I ran a towel over my head, tossed it to the floor, and left my room.
I did not stop until I was stalking down the corridor where the guests of the crown were situated.
I rounded a corner and nearly collided with Tezen and her charges.
The twins were red-faced, cheeks wet, in their sleeping gowns with their small feet bared.
“Captain,” Tezen said and looked around me. “Have you seen a kitten?”
“We’ve lost Spot,” Alfina said, her lower lip out so far a bird could have lighted on it.
“Papa will be cross if we cannot find him,” Al’fur informed me, his round face covered with spent tears and what looked to be honey.
“I’ve not seen your kitten, but cats are known to hide in dark, secretive places. Perhaps you should return to the nursery?” I replied as kindly as I could. “She may be hidden in one of your toy boxes.”
“That’s where we are heading now. The children were upset.
Nanny Vilde is searching the playroom again, so we did a fast sweep of the kitchens as honey cakes are known to calm tears,” Tezen explained, hovering in front of me.
“If you see the kitten, bring him to the nursery, will you?” I nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”
After watching the little party climb the narrow, curved steps to the next floor, I continued onward, my goal within sight.
Two Sandrayan guards stood at the portal, opening it for me and closing it behind my back without announcing my arrival.
That seemed a dereliction of duty. I took in the elegant room quickly.
The windows were open, as was the patio door, and the sea winds tickled the sheer curtains.
The bed was unmade. The coverlets tossed about, and in the center of the spray of linen and pillows of differing sizes and colors lay Teryn’s spotted cat.
Its fur gleamed like a gold spire in the sun, the darkish brown spots melding into soft brown and gold.
It would be virtually invisible moving through the jungles that dotted the Black Sand Isles.
Eyes the exact shade of Teryn’s stared at me in interest. Long whiskers twitched as it gently flicked its tail.
Around its neck was a red band of silk with a small pendant that grabbed the firelight in the hearth.
“Hello?” Teryn called out from the bathing room. All thoughts of sloppy guard form dissipated at the imagery of the envoy resting in one of the large stone baths. “Is that the heated breath of the bronze warrior I hear in my chambers or has a constipated bear wandered into the castle?”
This man was beyond vexing. I had half a mind to storm into his bath and explain to him, for the fortieth time, that I was not the sole hero in those tales nor was I making sounds like a backed-up bruin.
I actually took several steps before I stopped myself just short of the rounded archway leading to the bathing room.
It was when the thick, steamy cloud of sand sage hit my nostrils that my ire began to change into something else entirely.
“Dearest me, it must be the bear as Pasil Greenleaves is known to have a tart tongue,” Teryn commented, water splashing, and then just as I was taking a step in reverse, he appeared in the arch wearing only a thin peach-toned robe that hid nothing of the nude, slick male body beneath.
My sight went to his cock, hanging along the inside of his thigh.
A thicket of black curls at the base looked silky soft.
His balls dangled and swayed as he walked.
With a grunt, I tore my sight from his prick to look at his face.
Golden eyes glowed like his cat’s. Small beads of water lingered on his goatee and thick hair.
His lashes were clumped from his bath. His lips parted into a knowing smile as I fumbled to find what to say.
“No, I was mistaken. It is not a bear at all. It is the man who quelled a yeti attack.” He strolled to the bed to pet his cat.
“We have company, Pehdra. Be sure to be on your best behavior as I am trying to impress him.”
“Not alone,” I managed to croak out as he padded across the cool tile floor, his elegant feet bare.
The alluring smell of sand sage billowed off his damp skin, whispering at me to step closer and get lost in the sensual fragrance.
Now I knew. The man literally bathed in perfumed oils.
I could see the shimmer on his dark skin as he passed in front of the glowing coals in the hearth.
He wore no adornments other than the slim gold chain fastened to the tip of his elegant, long ear.
What charms were attached to the end I’d not been able to discern yet.
The fire glinted off his hair, showing dark russet highlights amid the ebony strands.
“Yes, I recall. You’re a humble, dedicated man.
I find that very appealing.” He stopped beside a small table that I’d not noticed.
Some highly skilled guardian I am. Atop the delicately crafted ashen table were fruits, cheeses, and an urn of tea.
Red tea, I suspected. Steam rose from the spout of the glass teapot with intricate imagery of a yellow sun and black shores.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I had the kitchen send up a pot of honey. I have seen how much you mainlanders enjoy your sweets.”
He had feasted with Aelir for days. No one enjoyed sweets like our king. It was obvious where his children got their sweet tooth.
“Thank you, but no, I’m here at your request, but I do have plans for the evening,” I said, my sight dropping down to stare openly at his round arse through his robe.
The orbs were tight and high, looking as if they would sit in my hands like one of the dark orange melons the Sandrayans had brought over with them.
Desire coursed through me. Truly, I needed to see what the man wished of me and leave before something disastrous took place.
“Oh, I am sorry for interrupting your plans.” He poured some tea into a cup, stirred it with a small silver spoon, and then, cradling the cup in his hands, turned to gaze at me.
The room seemed to pull inward, growing smaller and duller, until there was no tea, no cat, no hearth with shimmering briquettes.
“I had thought that we might take a ride. The king has said your horses are high-spirited with a love of running.”
“You wish to ride?” I asked dully, my mind mushy with the sight and smell of this man.
“I thought to offer to ride with you as you seem to need an outlet for your pent-up energies. Unless you can think of a better cathartic release?”
Surely this was Ihdos himself testing me. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” My voice sounded scratchy.
He blew over and then took a sip of tea, his sight never straying from my face. “Yes.”
One simple word. My heart sped up slightly. “We should not.” I fisted my hands at my sides. “Your station is higher than mine.”
A single lean black brow quirked upward.
His head tipped slightly, the gold chain coming to rest on the side of his throat.
All I could think of was pushing it aside with my lips so I could feel his pulse thrumming under my mouth.
My cock ached now, my balls heavy with the want he spoke of so poetically.
“Did your king not wed two consorts of common blood?” he countered as I knew he would. To be truthful, my excuse was flimsy at best. I’d argued with V’alor not to look at his affections for Aelir under such a light, and now here I stood, spewing the same tired rhetoric.
“He did, yes, but I am not a king,” I fired a feeble volley back. “If word of our liaison were to spread, some of the nobles of Melowynn would be greatly displeased.”