Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What are you reading?”
The book nearly falls from my hands when I hear the voice, and look up to find Weston standing at the desk, dropping his blades into the drawer. I hadn’t latched the door in case I needed to leave, so there was no turn of the handle that would warn me when he came in.
Even so, I’d been too engrossed in the love scene after the maiden and the prince finally admit their feelings for each other to even notice him walk into the room.
“Nothing,” I say, my cheeks warming as I close the book without marking my place, and set it on my lap.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“It’s just a book,” I say, a little too quickly. My body is too warm under all this bedding, and I’m trying to focus on what he’s saying and the fact that he’s back, not the pounding of my heart in my ears and between my thighs.
He cocks his head to the side, and a smile plays at his lips. “Is there a reason you don’t want to tell me what is in your book, princess?”
“It’s not my book. It just appeared. When I couldn’t sleep. Right there,” I say, my statements stuttered, as I try to hide how flustered I am. I set the book on the bedside table, like having it out of my hands will stop this conversation.
He looks down at the drawer, his smirk deepening, and I feel the burn of embarrassment flare in my skin.
“If you want to avoid the question, you can just say so. I think that gives me a pretty good idea, anyway.”
I cross my arms over my chest, wishing I could slink down and hide. Why does Weston seem to always catch me in compromising situations, like he’s drawn to me as soon as he can make me feel uncomfortable?
Maybe it’s just him that makes me feel uncomfortable. I’ve never felt like this before, back when I was reading the same book alone in my castle rooms.
Silence stretches between us, broken only by him closing the drawer and locking it with his key.
“Were you waiting up for me, princess?” I can hear the smile in his voice, the same challenge as before when he told me not to.
I scoff. “Absolutely not.”
Was I though? Was something deep down not letting me fall asleep because this pattern we’ve created was broken? Is that why he doesn’t sleep too?
“Sounds like you were worried.”
I can’t tell from here with the shadows and darkness hiding his face, but there might be a playful glint in his eye, like he’s teasing me.
If getting him off the ship put him into a good mood, one that isn’t snapping at me every second, then he needs to get off the ship as much as possible.
But a princess isn’t teased, no matter how much of a good mood he’s in, so I need to stop this immediately.
An abrupt laugh bursts from my throat. “Worried? The only thing I’d be worried about is being trapped in this room forever if Dane finally got hold of you.”
He chuckles softly, as he unties the laces of his vest, then disappears behind the screen next to him. A moment later, the sound of running water fills the room, and panic fills my chest.
Oh gods. He’s filling the damn tub.
I sit up a little straighter and clear my throat so my voice doesn’t come out the same way my insides feel.
“What are you doing?” I ask, raising my voice so he can hear me over the sound of the rushing water.
“Taking a bath.”
“Why?” I shriek, cringing at how I must sound and praying the water covers it up even just slightly.
He steps just beyond the edge of the screen at the end closest to the bed, his hands at his hips, slowly undoing the buckle of his belt. He’s still completely clothed, but the motion still feels indecent.
I swallow hard.
“Do I really need to explain why people take baths, princess?” he says with a smirk.
I keep my gaze trained on his face, trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “You know that’s not what I meant. I mean, why do you have to right now?”
“I’m not getting into bed sweaty and dirty.
” The buckle on his belt clinks before the leather strap falls away.
He tosses it on the floor before disappearing behind the screen again.
The running water stops abruptly, followed by the rustle of fabric and the familiar sound of clothing hitting the floor.
Oh my gods.
Weston is naked. In this room. And I’m in this room.
Before coming to Dawnlin, I’d spent plenty of time around dirty and sweaty men in the training rings, but never in a way that required anyone to remove clothing.
The showers in camp were combined, just like on the ship, but I did a good job of avoiding being in there at the same time as any of the other men in either crew.
But this, this is unavoidable.
My eyes dart to the door, only to find he shut it behind him. I couldn’t get out even if I tried.
“You can’t take a bath with me in here!”
“Then close your eyes, princess. You were supposed to be asleep, remember?”
Water sloshes and hits the floor, followed by a low groan that resonates through the room.
Indecent images flash through my mind, and heat pools between my thighs.
I’ve never been in a room with a naked man before, let alone one who looks like Weston.
My pulse is hammering again, my body affected the same as before, and I squeeze my thighs together at the way his groan hits me.
Stupid book. Stupid tub.
From where I sit in bed, he’s completely hidden behind the screen, but I know what he looks like beneath his shirt, which makes it easy for my mind to conjure up the images.
Water darkened hair, tousled with droplets falling down onto his skin.
The long column of his neck leading right into round, muscular shoulders.
The muscles in his back rippling as he reaches up to rest his bulging arms on the rim of the porcelain.
His powerful hands massaging suds into his glistening skin.
“Ugh!” I grunt to myself, pulling the pillow out from behind my back and fluffing it with my pent up aggression.
Leaning over, I blow out the candle, and slide farther down into the sheets, pulling the bedding up to my shoulder and curving in on myself, as if I’ve transported back in time to my first night being forced to sleep in this bed.
This is wrong. I should not be thinking about him this way. I blame Dawnlin for sending me one of Tila’s books and Weston for provoking me all night.
Please, don’t let me have another dream for him to overhear.
Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I try to focus on taking deep breaths, but I barely get through a few when the water sloshes again, bringing me right back into the room.
“Is this us being friends?” Weston says, taking me completely off guard.
“We’re not friends,” I answer automatically.
He chuckles but doesn’t argue.
Befriending him was my new strategy to get him to trust me, and after tonight it seems like it is working, but my answer was for me, to remind myself that I shouldn’t be friends with him, not truly, despite how normal and comfortable this feels. No matter how much he jokes with me and provokes me.
I can’t really be friends with Weston.
“I’m going to sleep!” I call out and pull the sheets tighter around me again.
“Good. I’m taking you somewhere tomorrow. I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”
“Where are we going?” I say, suddenly curious. He shouldn’t have another shift, since he had one tonight. So does that mean we’re going to the island during the day?
Splashes and the sound of scrubbing distract me from my questions, and I squeeze my eyes shut again.
“You’ll find out tomorrow. Goodnight, princess.”
I let out a sigh and try to clear my mind.
Any relaxation I’d achieved from reading completely reversed once he returned to the ship.
I take another deep breath and try to remember what it felt like to sleep at camp, to have Dane’s arms wrapped around me, but all I can conjure up are flashes of the nightmares I had every time I closed my eyes.
So instead, I drift off to the soft sounds of rippling water.