Chapter Four #3
I knew his point before he made it, and scrambled to gather my retort on my tongue as he turned his eyes on me again. He tapped the counter pointedly, took a step back.
“Seems like we are your business, Rosaleen.”
He pushed away from the counter and walked the length of the bar, heading for the door to the inn.
“I’ve got other guests, you know,” I called after him. “Despite all the time I spend picking up after your band of schoolboys.”
He didn’t turn and my words rolled right off his armoured back. Rage bloomed within me, tightening my stomach, my limbs, my skin. Before I knew what I was doing, I stormed along the bar after him.
“You’ve claimed all but two rooms in my inn. That’s thirteen rooms I could have leased to travellers heading for Kingsborough.”
I raised the plank at the end of the bar and it fell with a shuddering thunk when I stepped into his path, at the same moment that he reached out for the door.
His hand brushed my arm but he didn’t fall back as any decent man might.
He didn’t even falter, just stepped in fluidly so we were almost toe to toe, arm rising above my head to press his palm flat to the door behind me.
My breath snagged in my too-tight lungs.
He didn’t quite cage me in, but it was a close thing, his broad body angled only slightly away.
By the slight darkening of the green in his eyes, he clearly meant to have me swooning, too.
It shouldn’t surprise me – that a man who looked like that in his armour would be so bloody arrogant.
I was not swooning. That would be ridiculous.
Impossible, actually, in my current state.
My skin still tight all over, overwhelmingly hot and almost itchy with irritation.
I glared stonily up at him, refusing to back up against the door or slip past him, despite the slight panic clawing its way up my throat.
As long as he didn’t touch me, it would be fine.
As long as he didn’t touch me – I could keep my Flame in check.
Maddeningly, the Captain smirked.
“Let’s hear it then.”
My voice didn’t shake. It did not.
“Yule is just days away. Do you know how many people travel through Stormsby at this time of year?”
“Considering I spend my days interviewing every soul who comes in or out of your charming little village?” He shrugged. “Yes, I would say I have some idea.”
“Then you know how much business I’m missing out on.”
“And as we’ve established, the crown is providing you with business.”
“That’s not the point!”
What was my point? He was awfully close, the air between us warm with our shared breath. I shook my head, to clear it at first, and then again, irritably.
“It’s not just about the rooms, it’s about the rowdy little boys occupying them, occupying my home. It’s about the needless wear and tear of two dozen men roaming around where my family —”
Nope.
I cut myself off, despite the mild flicker of interest in his eye. My family was none of his business. I huffed a breath and lifted my chin.
“And you’re chasing away customers,” I said instead. “I haven’t seen most of my regulars since the very first day you marched in here. Nobody wants to drink in the company of Kingsmen.”
“Hurtful.”
“You’re hurting my livelihood.”
“Hmm.” The sound came from the depths of his chest, low and rumbling and almost beastly, more feline than human. My Flame seemed to enjoy the sound though, rising to stroke forlornly at the confines of my chest like a cat mewling at a closed door.
I swallowed, ignoring it.
“What does that mean?” I pressed.
The Captain sighed, metal clad chest heaving dangerously close to my own. “I suppose it means: leave it with me. You’ll have your business, or your due compensation.”
He began to step away, but he’d barely shifted, his hand still braced above me when my own hand darted out to catch him, curling around the cool steel shielding his forearm. The Captain halted, stiffening. He looked slowly from my hand to my face with his dark brows tight. I let him go immediately.
“I–” My heart hammered.
My hands balled at my sides, face burning, the frantic heat of my magic and my pulse overlapping. I blurted my words out in a thoughtless rush. “I just want to know when you’re leaving.”
The Captain’s stare was incredulous.
“You do realise we’re here to protect you?”
“I realise you’re here to hunt His Majesty’s favourite game.”
He snorted. “You’re telling me you’re not afraid of the Serpent.”
“I’m more afraid of your merry band of eejits and the irreparable damage they’re inflicting on my family’s business.’
His jaw ticked, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if I’d gone a step too far.
He opened his mouth – but whatever reply he’d planned, it was forgotten when his eyes drifted from my own and a line flickered between his brows.
He reached for me, and for the first time, my back hit the door when I flinched away.
“What are you doing?”
He clicked his tongue, but when he spoke it was barely above a whisper, the way one might speak to a nervous animal, wary of getting them spooked.
“Hold still,” he said.
He reached for me again, carefully. His thumb brushed my cheek light as a gust of spring air, but his touch was searing.
“Eyelash.”
He held it up for me and I stared, uncomprehending, at the single curl of hair on the pad of his thumb.
“You’re supposed to make a wish,” he said quietly.
I couldn’t. My lungs were unresponsive, fiery somersaults battering viciously at my ribs. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move for fear of my chest exploding in flame.
The Captain raised a dark brow, waiting. Then, slowly, he parted his scarred lips, brought his thumb to his mouth, and blew out a gentle breath.
Calm calm calm calm calm calm–
I was barely aware of my gaze snagging on his lips as he blew the eyelash away; it was just a focal point.
An anchor for my attention while I wrestled with the power trying to claim my body from the inside.
That I noticed the perfect symmetry of his cupid’s bow was just my panicked mind’s way of finding distraction.
That I caught the slight stutter of his breath between his teeth was —
“Want to know what I wished for?”
I looked up. His brow had smoothed. His eyes were dark and vivid in the languid moment before they dropped to my own lips.
And a roar of heat exploded around my heart.
It was brief. My Flame didn’t even pass the skin, but I felt the warmth of it against my breast, and when the Captain’s confused gaze flicked back to mine, I saw it.
Saw the split-second glow of my magic lighting his eyes.
Time slowed as those gold-lit eyes slid past my own, past my lips, my throat – and came to rest on the low neck of my blouse.
“Rosie.”
My name was flat on his lips, unfathomable.
And in that moment, I was sure he could see right through my skin and bones and muscle to the Flame within.
The moment stood still. My heart stood still.
I thought it would never end, that I would suffocate and die under his burning gaze until my own Flame was free to consume me as I’d always known it would.
Then the door behind me rattled, and I gasped, drawing in one painful, ragged breath as I fell forward with shock — as my heart stuttered to life.
The Captain broke my fall, a solid steel barrier, the hand beneath my elbow surprisingly gentle, steadying me as I turned on uncertain feet. My Flame stretched its limbs, reaching longingly for that touch –
“Oops!” came a cheery voice on the other side of the door.
Sorcha edged around with a small basket of clean tea towels balanced on one wide hip.
Her smile was bright and wholesome as ever, but it faded somewhat as she took us in.
My pale face and heaving chest, the Captain behind me, hand around my arm, and whatever expression he wore that had Sorcha’s brow pitching high.
“Is everything alright?”
My absent sense jerked into my place like a slap across the cheek, and I wrenched myself away from the Captain’s gentle hold, felt my Flame recoil sullenly.
I hurried forward to take the basket from Sorcha’s arms. And though she’d usually scold me for trying to do everything myself, she let me take them without fuss.
“Fine,” I said, hoisting the basket onto my own hip. “Everything’s fine.”
I didn’t wait for her answer, nor to find out what expression the Captain wore.
The searing brush of his gaze stayed with me as I ducked back beneath the plank and retreated to the safety of my space behind the bar.
I stuffed the rags away with my back to the entire tavern, heart thundering fast enough to make up for that long, frozen moment.
But when my pulse and breath finally steadied, and I slowly turned to the end of the bar, he was gone.