CHAPTER FOURTEEN #4
“And what? You’re going to force yourself on me?” She scoffed. “Trust me, if you try to take too many liberties, I’m perfectly capable of punishing you.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He grinned up at the canopy, unwilling to look at her, their faces disconcertingly close. “But it isn’t your modesty I’m trying to protect.”
“You saw me in my chemise. What modesty do I have left?”
“Very little,” he said, proud of himself for being brave enough to tease her. “I’m not concerned about you, Ilain. I’m protecting myself.”
“Oh,” she murmured, seeming to understand.
Over their travels, Ethenn’s attraction to Ilain had grown from infatuation to an unrequited love.
Now, it burned with a full desire that was growing difficult to contain.
Sleeping next to her was one thing. Embracing her, touching her, kissing her—those were cruel taunts on his psyche that he couldn’t withstand.
Gently, cautiously, Ilain rested her hand on his chest. Even with the fabric between them, the touch sent spirals of energy coursing through him, tugging on the magic that rested beneath his skin. “Ethenn,” she whispered.
“Hm?”
“If you love me . . . why do you tense when I touch you?”
Ethenn closed his eyes. How honest could he be with her? He settled for the most palatable truth. “Because I’m not used to being touched.”
Ilain was quiet and very, very still. Then she asked, “Would you rather I not touch you?”
“That’d be rather difficult to accomplish in this bed.”
“I meant as a point of habit.”
Shifting, Ethenn finally gathered the courage to look at her.
Their noses were almost brushing, and he edged slightly back to see her more clearly.
Allowing himself one grace, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around hers where they rested on his chest. “As we’ve promised to spend our not-quite-eternal lives together—”
She smiled, bringing a wrinkle to her nose.
“I’d imagine that will be rather difficult to accomplish as well,” he concluded.
“Ethenn . . .”
“Yes?”
Her eyes searched his. He was fairly certain he could feel her heart beating against his arm. Its pace was unexpectedly fast. “I think,” she said so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her breathy voice, “that I—” She cut herself off, her lips still parted around her unsaid words.
Heat built in Ethenn’s chest as he held her gaze. The blankets grew stifling. “You, what?”
She was silent, her brow pinched. He couldn’t tell what made her so hesitant. What could she possibly say that would make this situation any more awkward?
Ilain blinked as though clearing her thoughts. Then she said, “I don’t know how Evylin and Jonn do this.”
Ethenn frowned in confusion.
“It’s so bloody hot,” she clarified.
Ethenn laughed. She was right. Sweat beaded along his back, and their body heat made it sweltering under the blankets. “It really is,” he said.
“And they always sleep like this,” she said incredulously. “With even more clothing than we have now.”
“It’s baffling,” he agreed.
“I don’t think I can sleep this way.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?”
“No,” she said, disappointment evident. “If we’re not going to sleep together, I have an empty bed in my own room. I could just go back there.”
Hearing the reluctance in her tone, Ethenn knew she didn’t want to leave. For some reason, even if it were only to test the validity of their marriage, she wanted to stay with him. And he wouldn’t deny her or himself that.
“Hold on,” he said, pulling free to rise.
First, he removed the comforter from the bed, leaving only the sheet behind.
Ilain shivered from the sudden rush of cold air, but he knew it would only be temporary.
Then he reached up and pulled his shirt over his head, forcing himself not to consider that he was half-naked in front of her.
When he turned back, Ilain lay there, staring at him, wide-eyed. “Wow,” she said, the word drawn out. “You’re very . . . muscular.”
Ethenn glanced down at his chest. “Yes.” He lifted the sheet to join her, then paused. “Is this all right?”
She nodded with a little too much enthusiasm.
Cautiously, he lay back down, feeling the surge of magic rise suddenly wherever their skin made contact.
It took some time for them to adjust, their mingling breath slightly uneven amidst the renewed tension.
However, the temperature felt more comfortable, and Ethenn assured himself it was the right decision.
Ilain’s fingers brushed his arm, which was draped over his chest on top of the sheet. “What are these?” she asked.
Ethenn flinched, having forgotten about the marks on his forearm. “Oh, uh—” He tried to think of a way to downplay them. “They’re scars.”
“They look old.” She traced the edge of one of the burned stripes. “How did you get them?”
Ethenn shrugged half-heartedly. “Working in my uncle’s forge.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, hunting was just my primary job. I worked with my uncle when I was in town for extended periods.”
“No, not that.” Ilain propped herself on her elbow to look down into his face. “You’re not clumsy, Ethenn. In fact, you’re decidedly known for being the opposite. How did you accidentally burn yourself dozens of times?”
Though Ethenn had said nothing about the scars being accidental, he didn’t bother to correct her. “I’m not a very good smith,” he deflected.
She rolled her eyes at the noncommittal answer.
“Fine,” she said, sinking into the mattress again.
“I’ll let you keep your secrets for now.
But know this, Ethenn Loxley: I’m your wife, and that means I’m entitled to know every last detail about your life, even if I have to pry the information out of you. ”
Closing his eyes, Ethenn forced himself to relax. “I’ll look forward to your interrogation,” he said.
There was a moment of silence before Ilain nudged him.
His neck turned, peering over at her through half-closed lids.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?” she asked.
Ethenn smirked, turning back to the canopy. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Goodnight, Ilain.”
After several seconds, she laid her head next to his, grumbling, “Goodnight, you bloody prude.”