Chapter 11
Sabine paced in the bedchamber, unable to sleep. Not only was Evander about to take on a skilled assassin alone, but the king’s conversation with her kept replaying in her mind. For some reason, she thought there was more going on than she was privy to. She hadn’t had a chance to discuss it with Evander yet. She chewed on her thumbnail—a nasty habit. Once Evander was back, the sick feeling in her stomach would settle. While this entire mission needed to be a secret from everyone in Avoni, she would have preferred for him to have taken a unit of men with him. Surely he could have sworn them to secrecy. But secrets always seemed to have a way of coming out.
Moving her hands to her hips, she continued pacing. Images of Evander getting hurt or worse, killed, inundated her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her stomach twisted from nausea. If something happened to Evander, the king would probably kill her as retribution or she’d be thrown out of the palace, forced to survive on her own. If she managed to survive, she didn’t know how she’d ever live with herself knowing she was responsible for his death. He wouldn’t be fighting Ex if it wasn’t for her. Thinking about the future, she couldn’t imagine it without him. Somewhere along the line, he’d become a friend she valued. Life without him seemed bleak.
Things had a funny way of turning out. When she’d first met Evander, he scared her. Then her fright turned to annoyance. Somehow after that, she got to know him and began to consider him a friend. Now it seemed friend wasn’t the right word. If she was being truly honest with herself, somewhere along the way she’d started to care for him as more than a friend. She felt inexplicably pulled to him. And that kiss they shared—the one she’d locked away to think about later—had been intense, sensual, and passionate. It could never happen again. It had been stupid of her to give in to her desire and kiss him since she was married.
How had she allowed herself to fall for an assassin? If only this had happened before she’d married Rainer. She’d always dreamed of finding someone she loved, marrying, and having children. With Rainer, she didn’t think they would ever have a loving relationship. Especially now that she knew the evils he was capable of. Tears filled her eyes. She could imagine love, children, and happiness with Evander. Which was insane because they’d only just met, and she barely knew him. But deep down, she felt a connection to him she couldn’t imagine having with anyone else.
When she’d first met Rainer, she thought him devastatingly handsome. And he was. He was the most seductive and sensuous man she’d ever seen. It would be easy to share his bed. But since they didn’t care for one another that way, it would also be awkward.
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, her thoughts turning to Evander. Being with him would be different than Rainer since they shared a connection. They would experience things in unison. Explore each other. The word love sprang to mind.
The rain came down even harder, pinging on the roof above her, drowning out her thoughts of things that could never be. She had been born into a royal family, and that meant she had a duty to her people. It was time she put them first instead of her own thoughts and wants. Bringing her sister’s killer to justice no longer mattered. All that mattered was protecting her people. She needed to act like the queen she was and no longer be a spoiled, selfish child. She needed to prevent Rainer from going to war with the other kingdoms, and she needed to insist he return the Bakley children to their families.
She snuffed out the candle and climbed into bed. Lying there, the night wore on. The fire in the hearth slowly died, but she didn’t bother to add another log to it. The rain continued to pound against the roof and windows.
Something shifted in the air. Sabine couldn’t explain it, but the hairs on her arms rose and her heart pounded. When she’d been in the training room with Evander, he’d told her to use and trust her senses. If it felt like something was wrong, she had to act accordingly. She slid out of bed and glanced about the room, not seeing anything out of place. Even though the palace was always quiet, especially at night, it seemed more so than usual. Something was wrong. Turning back to her bed, she quickly shoved the pillows beneath the covers, trying to make it look as if she were still sleeping there. Satisfied, she withdrew a knife from her bedside table then tiptoed to the bathing room, keeping the door ajar and hiding behind it.
Minutes went by, and nothing happened. Maybe she was being overly paranoid and her imagination was getting the best of her. Given what Evander was up to tonight, that had to be it. This was a fortified compound. No one could get in. Regardless, she didn’t want to go back to bed. Instead, she sat on the floor in the bathing room, still tucked behind the door. The darkness made it harder and harder to keep her eyes open.
Sabine jolted awake, the knife on the floor beside her. She must have fallen asleep and dropped it. Reaching down, she picked it up and readjusted herself against the wall.
Something squeaked, the sound barely audible. She froze, listening. A soft thump came from her bedchamber. Forcing herself to breathe slowly and quietly so as not to garner attention, she peered through the crack between the opened door and the wall. In the darkened room, she spotted someone walking toward her bed.
The man leaned over and withdrew the dagger he must have thrown. He cursed and yanked back the blankets, revealing the pillows. He turned and scanned the bedchamber.
Two things became clear to Sabine. One, since this man was in her room, then something must have happened to Evander. Most likely, he was dead. And two, she was going to die because she couldn’t defend herself against a skilled assassin. She shouldn’t have hid in the bathing room where there was only one exit. She silently cursed herself for being so stupid.
Her entire body started shaking as the man took a couple of steps toward the bathing room. Something behind him moved, and a shadow peeled away from the wall. Sabine squinted, trying to see what was going on in the dark room. A second person appeared. She covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, wanting to stifle the sound of her own breathing as panic set in. She had nowhere to go.
The first man suddenly spun around to face the second person who shifted, revealing a knife in hand. She recognized him as Evander.
The assassin ducked at the same time Evander threw his knife. The weapon embedded in the wall with a thud. The assassin rushed at Evander, and the two men began to grapple. Sabine scrambled to her feet, wanting to help.
They slammed into the bathing room door, knocking her over. She screamed, trying to get on her hands and knees so she could stand. Her head pounded from where the door had hit her. Hands grabbed her, yanking her to her feet. She found herself being held by the assassin, her back to his chest, as he clutched a dagger, the tip at her neck.
Evander stood a few feet away in front of them, his eyes wide.
“The only reason she’s not already dead is because I need to make it out of here,” the assassin said, his hot breath brushing against her ear.
“You’ll never leave these grounds alive,” Evander said, his voice low and deadly.
“If I don’t, then she doesn’t either,” the assassin said. “Now back away.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
The assassin pushed the tip of the blade into her neck just enough to break the skin. She felt a trickle of blood run down her neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but all she could think about was dying.
The man chuckled, the sound reverberating through Sabine. “It seems we’re at a stalemate.”
Sabine realized she still held the knife in her hand. While she knew she couldn’t move fast enough to kill the assassin before he slit her throat, at least she could do some damage. At least she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The second she rammed her knife into this vile man, he’d kill her. She just hoped it gave Evander enough time to end the assassin before the two could resume fighting. When she died, she’d see her sister again. That was consolation enough. She just wished she could tell Evander that she cared for him, loved him even, before she died. But with the weapon against her neck, she couldn’t speak. It was time for action.
Gripping the knife, Sabine lifted it slightly, then rammed it down into the assassin, striking his thigh. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain that would accompany death.
The assassin dropped to the floor, his dagger still in hand.
Evander grabbed her arm, yanking her out of the bathing room. “Are you all right?” He ran his hands over her body before inspecting her neck.
She blinked, trying to understand what had just happened. Glancing behind her, she saw the assassin on the floor, a knife protruding from his chest. “How?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“I saw you shift your fingers and knew you were getting ready to strike him. The moment you did, I threw my dagger. I’m just glad you moved enough so I could kill him.”
“Are you certain he’s dead?”
“Yes.” He wound his fingers through hers, leading her from the bedroom. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Dozens of questions filled her mind, like why the two men were in her room in the first place and how had they gotten there?
Evander led her to a room a few doors down. A fire roared in the hearth, but the room was empty. Still too shocked from the events that had just taken place to voice any of her questions, she went over to the end of the bed and sat, staring into the flames.
Evander closed the door before sitting next to her on the bed. “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked.
She felt her neck. It was only a small cut, and the blood had already dried. She nodded.
Evander sighed. “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.” His voice came out husky and deeper than usual. He leaned forward, his right hand coming up, gently cupping the side of her face. His thumb brushed over her lips. “Sabine,” he whispered.
She clutched onto his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting the comfort of his body against hers. She started to cry.
“Shh,” Evander said. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He kissed her forehead.
But she couldn’t focus on him because her skin felt like it was set on fire, as if her flesh were burning.
Sabine screamed.
“What’s wrong?” Evander asked, his voice filled with concern.
The fire spread from her neck, down to her shoulders, and to her stomach. She started thrashing, trying to put the fire out, only there was no fire. At least not one she could see. She had no idea what was happening as pain and terror set in.
Evander cursed. “The assassin’s dagger must have been tipped with poison.”
Poison. She was going to die a horrible, painful death.
Sabine couldn’t stop screaming as pain rippled through her, increasing in intensity.
Evander scooped her up, running from the room, carrying her in his arms. He began shouting orders, but Sabine didn’t pay attention to what he said. All she could think about and focus on was the excruciating pain. It felt like her skin was being seared off her body. She wanted to pull it away to stop the pain.
They entered a building she’d never been in before. Evander set her on a bed. She thrashed, wanting to put out the invisible fire that engulfed her body. Someone pinned her arms down while someone else tied her wrists to the bed. Then they did the same with her legs.
A piercing scream erupted through her. She was tied to the bed, burning, and she was going to die.
“She needs the antidote,” Evander shouted. “Now!”
“We need to figure out what poison is in her system,” someone responded.
“She only has minutes left,” he said, gripping his hair and sliding to the floor.
An elderly man leaned over Sabine. “Do you feel fire or ice?” he asked.
“Fire,” she ground out, panting, sweat dripping down her forehead, arms, and legs.
He nodded. “Vexilun. How long since she was poked?”
“Maybe ten minutes?” Evander said, still sitting on the floor. “We have enough time to save her, don’t we Barret?”
“We have roughly twenty minutes. It’ll be cutting it close.” He barked orders to someone else in the room before tilting her head back, inspecting her wound. “Make that ten. Ten minutes.”
People rushed in and out of the room bringing leaves, roots, and vials. Barret stood beside the bed grinding the various ingredients in a bowl.
Someone else laid cool, wet cloths on her forehead, arms, and legs.
“I have enough,” Barret announced. He scoped out a spoonful of what he’d made and placed it on her neck where the dagger had pierced her skin. It immediately doused the fire around her head and shoulders.
Another person rushed over with a cup. “It’s ready,” the woman said.
Barret lifted Sabine’s head, placing the cup at her lips. He poured the liquid into her mouth and she swallowed the contents as best she could, coughing slightly at the foul taste.
She could feel her heart beating frantically as the liquid slid down her throat and to her stomach. Then a calmness coated her skin as the fire faded away. Her breathing became steadier.
“How do you feel?” Barret asked.
“Better,” she said, her voice coming out hoarse.
“Vexilun is a nasty poison that makes you think your flesh is burning. The pain can be excruciating. After thirty minutes or so, your heart gives out and you die.” He reached forward, placing his palm on her chest. “Your heart is still beating too quickly.” He shouted something over his shoulder.
Another person approached with a different cup. Barret removed the bindings on Sabine’s wrists and ankles and then he helped her sit up. He handed her the cup, and she drank its contents.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We wait and see if you’re still alive in ten minutes,” Barret said as he took the cup and set it aside.
Gemma burst into the room, the door hitting the wall with such force it made everyone jump. “What happened?” she demanded.
Evander stood. “Queen Sabine has been poisoned. Barret administered the antidote.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Gemma asked as she came over and inspected Sabine.
“I believe so,” Barret said. “I’m going to make a few more concoctions just in case. I’ll be back in five minutes.” He bowed then left the room.
“Lucky for you Barret is the best apothecary around.” Gemma smiled and patted Sabine’s leg.
With each breath Sabine took, she felt better, stronger. Maybe she wasn’t going to die after all. Relief filled her.
Gemma eyed Evander, her eyebrows raised as if in question, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept his focus on Sabine.
Now that she was feeling better, she had some questions for Evander, but there were a couple people still lingering around and she didn’t want to speak in front of them.
As if reading her mind, Evander put his hands on his hips and ordered everyone out of the room, including Gemma.
Once Evander and Sabine were alone, he came and sat on the edge of her bed. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and taking hold of her hand.
“Yes.” Her eyes became heavy. “I’m just tired.” And her body ached from all it had been through over the past hour.
Evander nodded. “I’ll let you sleep.” He made no move to leave.
Sabine closed her eyes, and a sense of calm filled her.
A few minutes later, she heard Barret mumble to Evander about having given Sabine something to knock her out and that she needed to rest. The bed shifted as Evander stood. And then the room went silent. She had to be alone.
Rolling onto her side, she drifted to sleep.
“Father is looking for you,” someone whispered.
Sabine could tell she was still in bed, but she was half asleep, unable to open her eyes. Maybe she was dreaming.
“Shh,” Evander replied. “Don’t wake her.”
“You need to deal with the mess you created,” Gemma whispered.
“Me?” Evander said. “You were supposed to make sure he was clean before he stepped foot on the palace grounds.”
“And you were supposed to kill him quickly,” she replied.
Evander didn’t respond.
“Let’s go,” Gemma continued. “You have to face him sooner or later about this.”
Evander sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m sure he already has another plan.”
It sounded as if the two of them left the room.
Sabine had no idea what they were talking about or if she’d dreamed the entire conversation. Dreams often didn’t make sense.
* * *
Sabine awoke and rolled over. She found Queen Serilda sitting next to the bed.
“Good morning,” Serilda said. “How are you doing?”
Yawning, Sabine pushed herself to a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. Her neck was sore but other than that, she felt good. “I’m fine.” Her voice came out raspy—probably from all the screaming she did last night.
“I’m not sure what happened, but we’ve never had an attack inside the palace walls before.”
Sabine had no idea how to respond to that.
“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t share this incident with anyone. If word got out, others might try to breach our walls as well.”
Sabine recalled Gemma telling Evander she would have her guards stationed away from a section of the wall for a specified amount of time so Evander could get out and kill Ex without anyone seeing. She supposed that was how the assassin got in. Instead of mentioning any of that, she replied, “Since you’ve been so hospitable, I won’t say a word.” The past few weeks—both here in Avoni and in Lynk—seemed to be filled with assassination attempts. The assassin who’d come after her in the seamstress’s room back in Lynk hadn’t been as skilled or ruthless as the one she faced last night. Which made her question if he was even an Avoni assassin.
She rubbed her forehead. Before the attack in Lynk, she’d heard a whistle and her dog had run from the room. That made sense if Lottie was involved since she trained the dogs. But her guards had to have seen something and they didn’t. That incident seemed like a coordinated attack—from the inside. The person had known how to get out of the palace via the secret tunnels. Granted, Lottie could have divulged that information, but Sabine wasn’t so sure she would. If Lottie told an assassin, that assassin would tell others. Lottie had to know that.
“What is it, dear?” Serilda asked.
Sabine glanced at the queen’s face. Her brows were drawn together, as if truly concerned. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think I’m just tired from the events of last night.” Sabine had been attacked twice—both times by very different men. She knew, without a doubt, that the man last night was an assassin from Avoni. He had been well trained and ruthless. The attack in Lynk hadn’t been like that. It had been clumsy.
“Is there anything you wish to discuss with me?” Serilda asked.
Sabine shook her head, wanting to wait to talk to Evander about this.
“Very well.” The queen stood then headed for the door where she stopped and turned to face Sabine. “While we might have different methods, we want the same thing—peace.”
Sabine didn’t respond. If Serilda truly wanted peace, her kingdom wouldn’t still be training assassins. And so far, Avoni had done nothing to broker peace. They’d had more than enough opportunities to help Bakley but instead, chose to do nothing. But maybe Sabine was overthinking this. Looking for problems where there weren’t any.
Serilda reached for the door handle. “I want you to know that my son cares for you,” she said, her voice suddenly soft. “No matter what the future holds, know that he considers you a friend. Maybe something more. Don’t forget that.” She left the room before Sabine could respond.
Sliding her legs out from under the covers, Sabine stood and stretched, thinking over her conversation with the queen. Her throat was dry, so she went over to the door looking for a string nearby to pull a bell for a servant.
Evander’s voice came from the other side. She was about to open the door when she heard his mother say, “You need to fix this.”
Sabine had no idea what needed fixing. Then she remembered hearing Evander and his sister whispering about talking to their father.
“I know,” Evander said. “You don’t need to remind me. I’m painfully aware that I screwed up last night.”
Sabine froze, unable to move away from the door.
“What is it, Mother? I can tell you want to say something else.”
“You do remember what your duty to this family and kingdom is, don’t you?” the queen said.
“Yes,” Evander ground out, his voice sounding irritated.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t,” he replied.
“Just remember what you’re doing. Don’t get caught up in it all.”
“Mother.”
“I see the way you look at her.”
“You can count on me to do my duty,” Evander replied, his voice steely. “Is there anything else?”
“No more mistakes.”
Since Evander was probably going to come into the room and Sabine didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, she rushed over to the bed and threw the sheets back, pretending as if she’d just gotten up.
The door opened, and Evander entered carrying a robe. “I thought you might want to get out of the infirmary,” he said by way of greeting. “I brought this for you to wear.”
She glanced down, realizing she was still in her nightdress. It was rumpled and torn near her shoulder. She didn’t know if she had done that while she’d been thrashing or if it had happened when the assassin had her.
“Thank you.” Sabine went over and took the robe, sliding her arms through it and tying it around her waist.
“I’ll escort you to a room where you can bathe and change.” He opened the door and motioned for her to exit before him.
She stepped outside and squinted from the bright light. Evander led her along the pathway to the right. They walked side by side in silence. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, things about last night with the assassin, about the conversation she’d overheard him have with his sister, and his mother’s comments just now. However, something prevented her from doing so.
Maybe once they left the palace, he’d tell her what was going on. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause problems between him and his family. And she definitely wanted to discuss the assassination attempt back in Lynk.
He led her to the building that housed the royal family. He opened the door and ushered her inside. “Your room is not suitable after the events of last night,” he said as he led her down the hallway. “You can bathe and change in here.” He stopped before an ornate gold door. “I’ll have clean clothes brought for you.”
She opened the door and went in, noticing a closet off to the side filled with clothes. “Is this someone’s room?” Perhaps his eldest sister who no longer resided in this palace.
“It’s mine.” He pointed to the door on the left, not meeting her eyes. “The bathing room is through there. I’ll be back in a few minutes with clean clothes for you.” Without another word, he closed the door.
Standing alone in the room, Sabine turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. It was similar to the one she’d been staying in. A large bed on the floor, a couple armoires, a dressing closet and a bathing room. There was nothing in the room that gave it away as being Evander’s. No weapons hanging on the wall…though she supposed that made sense. If Evander’s bed was on the floor so no one could hide beneath it, then surely he wouldn’t display weapons someone could get ahold of and use. Even though she didn’t see anything that resembled Evander, the room distinctly smelled like him.
While she wanted to snoop, she refrained from doing so out of respect for Evander. Instead, she went into the bathing room. The tub had already been filled with steaming hot water. After removing her robe and nightdress, she lowered herself into the tub, allowing the hot water to wash over her. The steam surrounded her face along with a light lavender smell. Evander must have added some oil to the water for her. Then Sabine laughed. It wasn’t like Evander had drawn the bath—it had to have been a servant.
After several relaxing minutes, Sabine found soap and washed her body and hair. Once finished, she got out and wrapped the robe around her, peering into the bedchamber. A pile of clothing had been placed at the foot of the bed. Not seeing anyone in the room, she went to the clothes, running her hand over the fabric.
She couldn’t help but compare Rainer to Evander, her assassin-pirate-friend. She shouldn’t be interested in him in any way, but she was. She couldn’t help it. Rainer appeared to be perfect on the outside, luring her to him. But it was just his appearance. Not him as a person. Evander was the one she’d come to know and care for. And through that, she found him more appealing. He made her laugh and feel good about herself. Yet, he was not her lot in life. She was married to Rainer. There was no point thinking about things that could never be. Things she could not have.
She wiped the tears away, not understanding why she was crying. She shook her head, trying to think straight. There were so many more important things to worry about—like stopping a war, returning kidnapped children, and trying to stay alive. Irrelevant things such as her personal feelings shouldn’t matter. She rolled her shoulders back, wanting to be strong. She needed to pull it together so she could do what needed to be done to keep her kingdom safe—even if that meant sacrificing her own happiness. It was a small price to pay. Her kingdom deserved peace. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a deep breath. She had a job to do. It was time she start doing it.
She lifted the dark purple dress, stepped into it, and slid her arms into the sleeves. Once it was on, she tied the fabric belt around her waist.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” she called out.
Evander entered the room, closing the door behind him. He stood there, staring at her, his bright green eyes full of some emotion she couldn’t pinpoint.
The air suddenly seemed hot and hard to breathe. Needing to snap the connection she felt pulling her toward Evander, she asked, “Why don’t you have anything personal in here?”
He chuckled. “You snooped?” He raised a single eyebrow as he stepped farther into the room.
“No. I just noticed this room is similar to the guest room I was staying in. And there aren’t any books, figurines, or letters lying about. There’s nothing in here that tells me it’s yours.”
“My clothes are in here.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“What makes you think I’d have figurines?” He moved farther into the room, only a few feet away from her now.
She shrugged. “You look like the sort of fellow who would have miniature pirate ships.”
He laughed, tipping his head back as he did so. “Every time I try to act smooth around you, you go and say something like that.” He looked at her. “You make me laugh.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. He made her laugh as well, but she didn’t want to admit that out loud. It felt too intimate. Especially in the room with the door closed. “You have other homes,” she said, thinking out loud. “Do you keep your possessions at another location?” Maybe his main residence was elsewhere because surely he had to have items that were important to him—a favorite book or painting. Something uniquely Evander. She wanted to know what he cherished and why.
He sat on the edge of his bed, looking at her. The wall behind him contained floor to ceiling windows, revealing a handful of trees outside just beyond the water. “I have nothing special to me anywhere,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I don’t believe that.” She fiddled with the tie around her dress, wondering why he didn’t want to share this with her. A pang of hurt tightened around her heart. She had to shove it away.
“It’s true,” he insisted, his voice husky.
“Not even a single wooden pirate ship figurine?” she said, half joking and half serious, trying to keep the heavy mood somewhat light. She couldn’t fathom him not having a single prized possession.
“No.”
“And why is that?” She tilted her head to the side, watching him.
“Because if I have nothing that I treasure, it can’t be taken away or used against me.”
The room suddenly felt oddly silent. Sabine blinked, processing what he’d revealed. Sadness filled her. He lived the life of not only a royal, but an assassin. She understood how his enemies would and could use things he loved and cared for against him. Her room in Bakley was filled with items she cherished. Flowers she’d saved, books she’d read, jewelry she owned. Clothes, shoes, letters, rocks, and trinkets. The urge to hug him inundated her, and she had to look away. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugged. “My fate is sealed. There’s no point trying to change it. Or be upset.”
His statement mirrored her own feelings.
She hesitated a moment before going over and sitting on the bed next to him. “Sometimes I start to think about the what ifs…but then I stop myself. There’s no point in thinking about things that cannot be.” This was the most honest she’d been with anyone since her sister.
He folded his hands, his focus on them as they rested in his lap. He nodded slowly. “Tell me one of your ifs.”
Thinking over the many what ifs, she picked a safe one. “What if my sister never died?”
At that, he turned his head, looking at her. He slid his right hand to her back. “I’m sorry she died.”
So was Sabine. “Now tell me one of your ifs,” she whispered.
His eyes never left hers. “What if I never act on the one thing I’m too afraid to?”
“You don’t strike me as the sort of man who’s afraid of anything.”
With his free hand, he reached up and cupped her cheek. “I’m afraid of losing your friendship.”
She didn’t think they’d be able to remain friends once she returned to Lynk. “What’s the one thing you’re afraid to do?” Her heart thudded in her chest as if she’d just run across the field behind her parents’ castle back home.
His eyes focused on her lips. “I wish I’d kidnapped you before you married Rainer.”
“That’s not a what if,” she said, her voice coming out all breathy.
“What if I kidnapped you before you married Rainer?”
Even though the ceremony had been performed, Sabine and Rainer hadn’t consummated their marriage. She abruptly looked away from Evander, wondering, if only for an instant, if she truly was married. She abruptly stood. These thoughts had no place in her, and they had to stop.
“Sabine?” Evander said, standing and coming up behind her. “Is something wrong?”
She could feel the heat of him behind her. If she tilted back, she would lean into him. Closing her eyes, she imagined all the ways she wanted to be with him. Then she shook her head. “Nothing is wrong,” she finally replied. “I just had another what if moment.” She took a step away from Evander before turning to face him, a forced smile on her lips.
“Care to share?” His eyes kept focusing on her lips.
She knew he felt the same way about her that she felt for him. “I can’t,” she whispered.
He took a step closer to her, his eyes searching hers. “What if you could? What if we only have this moment in time together?” he asked, his voice coming out soft and husky.
She didn’t know how to respond to that.
“What if, just for tonight, we don’t think about what we should be doing or what our duties are. What if we just feel?”
Her heart pounded as she searched his eyes, trying to understand what he was suggesting.