Chapter 61
Chapter
Sixty-One
HAVEN
Grayson stormed past me, and Marian hurried after him.
Remy watched the door close behind him. “Rocks for brains.”
“Legacia teaches boys that they’re better than girls. Stronger. Smarter. More deserving. It’s a wonder he’s not worse.” I was making excuses for Grayson, and I had no idea why.
“I’ve seen your back.” His brows drew together, and his lips thinned. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so forgiving.”
My back. He’d seen my back. The scars. My shoulders stiffened. “Grayson and I fought a wyvern together. He’s not all bad.”
Remy’s jaw ticked. “Being able to wield a sword doesn’t make him a decent man.”
“No,” I agreed, “but it does make him a brave one.”
“Brave enough to face hard truths?”
“Which truths?” I asked.
“Almost everything he believes is wrong, that or an outright lie.” Remy chuckled as if Grayson’s coming crisis amused him. “Promise you’ll make him grovel before you forgive him.”
Grayson would never admit he’d been wrong. About anything. He was too set in his ways. As for groveling, that would never happen. “Forgive him?”
“I know you will. You’re kind, and you have a tender heart. You won’t be able to hold his sins against him. You forgave me.”
My cheeks heated at his praise.
His gaze settled on the spot where my hands held the blanket closed, and heat flared in his eyes. “Explain the blanket. Did you fight the assassin straight out of the bath?”
“He stole my towel.”
“We do need to figure out how he got into your room.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why not?”
“I’m tired of death and danger and—” The touch of his hand on my cheek interrupted the flow of words.
“You’ve been through enough today.” His voice softened to a seductive growl, and the expression in his eyes made my breath catch. He cared. I mattered to him. “Let me help you forget, just for a while.”
He took a step closer, and my stomach completed a somersault. This was more than attraction. He’d been ready to kill for me, but right now I saw nothing but tenderness on his face. Something deep inside me shifted. Was I ready for this next step?
“We’re destined.” He was so close I could see the dark flecks in his blue eyes. Eyes that looked at me like I was precious.
Maybe Destiny had gotten this one right.
“Gladys was right.”
He frowned. “Who’s Gladys?”
“No one.” I brushed off my slip. The last thing I wanted was to discuss Gladys. “Just being silly. Ignore it.”
“We’re bonded,” he said softly, “finally.” His eyes searched mine. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, since the moment you killed your first nian.”
“Really?” I sounded breathless. “You were so cranky.”
“I was an idiot, afraid of what was right in front of me. You seemed too perfect.”
His hand cupped my cheek, the rough pad of his thumb caressing my skin.
I reached up and traced the outline of his mouth with trembling fingers. He caught my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my palm before intertwining our fingers.
His other hand slid around my waist and pulled me closer until my body pressed against his. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest—quick and strong, matching my own racing pulse.
“That’s better.” A crooked smile touched his lips as he lowered his head.
And then he kissed me.
Remy’s kiss began slowly, as if he wanted to savor every second. His tongue tested the seam of my lips, and when I opened, our tongues flirted. Tasting. Testing. Tantalizing.
I moaned softly, and his grip on my waist tightened, even as I reached my free hand to the back of his neck.
He nipped at my lower lip, and I nipped back.
That earned me a low chuckle, so I did it again.
This kiss was … everything. I lifted my hand to his hair, enjoying the silky strands before I tugged gently, needing more. More of his taste. More of the passion I sensed he barely contained. More of him. Life was too short and too dangerous to deny myself this. To deny us this pleasure.
“Haven.” My name on his lips sounded like a prayer, and the bond—our bond—hummed. His hand slid from my cheek to the nape of my neck, and his tongue plunged deeper, claiming me. “I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”
That made two of us. I wanted him. Despite everything—exhaustion from the road, the majesty of his home, an assassin, and Grayson’s ire—I wanted this. For so long, I’d guarded myself from vulnerability. My hands trembled slightly. I let go of the blanket and felt empowered.
We both watched the fabric pool on the floor.
When his gaze lifted, it moved over me slowly—not with lust, but with something more seductive—wonder. His eyes traced every curve. “Haven.” My name was barely a whisper. He reached out, his hand hovering just above my hip, waiting for permission. “You’re perfect.”
“You need spectacles.”
He shook his head, and the crooked smile made a reappearance. “Absolutely perfect.”
We could argue that later. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
A soft knock on the door claimed our attention, and as one, we turned to glare—especially me, as Remy hadn’t even had time to remove his shirt.
“If we don’t answer, maybe they’ll go away,” I whispered.
“I’m not that lucky,” he replied. “Who is it?”
“Zane.”
Remy’s answering grin was filled with … mischief. “Come in.”
What? Before I had a chance to retrieve the blanket, the door opened, and Zane stepped into my room.
His eyes widened when he saw me, then his lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. “I see I arrived just in time.”
My heart skipped a beat. What was that supposed to mean?