Chapter 14
I don’t remember ever sleeping this well.
Warm, protected . . . with arms wrapped around me.
I roll to the other side of the bed, my face burning.
I slept with Rodrick?
Where am I?
He doesn’t stir with my movements, and slowly, as I watch him, the memories of last night return in fragments.
Josephine talking to me about her jewelry. That boy approaching me inside the fraternity house . . . but after that?
No matter how hard I try, nothing comes.
I tiptoe into the bathroom. I turn on the faucet to splash cold water on my face, and small flashes of Rodrick carrying me resurface.
What happened? Did I get sick? And worst of all, who undressed me and put me in this robe?
Kaled is going to kill me when he finds out I snuck out to that party.
I wash my face again, but it doesn’t feel like enough, so I decide to shower. I’m mortified knowing that the man assigned to be my guardian is right outside that door, but I know I’ll feel better once the hot water hits my skin.
The bathroom is huge. Black walls, chrome steel. Modern. The opposite of what I imagine suits him.
Even though he’s as refined as my brother, I suspect that inside, Rodrick is more . . . barbaric. I know he has just as much money as my family and went to the same school as Kaled, but there’s something primal about him. And it gets to me.
I shove the thought away. The worst kind of madness would be to start fantasizing about the man appointed to be my jailer.
I turn on the shower and drop the robe. The water runs down my hair, and the shampoo he uses smells distinctly masculine, spicy, nothing like my fruity ones.
A strange rush moves through me as I remember waking up in his arms.
If anyone in Rheadur even dreamed something like that happened, I’d be branded a disgrace forever.
Stop it. Nothing happened, I tell myself.
We were both dressed, although I was wearing far less, and I need to understand why.
When I’m done, I wrap a towel around myself and open a drawer, looking for a comb. Instead, I find an entire lineup of condoms. I slam the drawer shut so fast the noise probably echoes through the apartment.
God, kill me.
What were you expecting? He’s a single man. Just like Kaled before meeting Adeela, he must have several girlfriends.
My mood, already awful, sours completely at that thought. I’d rather comb my hair with my fingers than risk opening another drawer and finding another surprise.
I open the door carefully, but as I suspected, he’s awake, sitting on the bed in the dim light, watching me.
His gaze is sharp, piercing, like the eagles we have in Rheadur, and suddenly I forget my embarrassment, forget that I shouldn’t be standing here wearing so little, forget who we are.
Logic melts away, replaced by a slow burn that crawls down my spine. My nipples tighten, and something unfamiliar pulses between my thighs.
My legs tremble, so I stay still, afraid they’ll give out. His stillness makes me even more anxious.
“I hope you don’t mind. I took a shower,” I force myself to say.
He says nothing but rises and walks toward me.
Maybe he should turn the light on, as it’s still dark outside, but he doesn’t. The almost-darkness makes everything feel even more intimate. I’ve never been this close to a man who wasn’t family, not in any situation even remotely like this.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, stopping in front of me.
If I tell him the truth, he’ll probably throw me out, because even I don’t understand what I want right now.
“Physically, I’m fine. But I don’t remember what happened at the party. Part of the night is gone.”
“Do you remember sneaking away from the security team?” he asks, stepping back, as if he suddenly regrets closing the distance.
“You wouldn’t have let me go if I’d told you.”
“Get dressed, Jazmina. We have a lot to talk about, but not now. We’re going on a trip.”
“What?”
“You’re spending the weekend with me in Scotland. We’ll stop by your apartment so you can pack a small bag. I have business there, and after last night, there’s no chance I’m leaving you alone.”
Then he walks out without looking at me again.
We’re on his private plane now, heading to Kindubh, his duchy, but Rodrick still hasn’t spoken to me.
I decide I won’t sit here like a criminal on death row, not knowing what I’m being condemned for—besides escaping my security, of course. I know he definitely won’t let that slide.
“Let's have breakfast,” he says just as I open my mouth to ask something.
Without waiting to see if I agree, he unbuckles his seat belt, stands, and reaches his hand out so I can stand too.
“Can you tell me a little about your duchy?” I ask once I’m seated.
“I inherited it from my father, who inherited it from my grandfather, who inherited it from my great-grandfather. Since the beginning of time, my family has been made of dukes.”
“Are the lands productive?”
“Do you really want to talk about that, or are you just avoiding the silence? Because trust me, we have a lot to discuss.”
His voice is hard, and I know I’m in trouble. So I’m going to delay my execution as long as possible.
“I really want to know.”
“Coffee, milk, or tea?” he asks.
When the flight attendant approaches, he dismisses her with a gesture, taking the role of serving me himself.
“Black coffee.”
I watch his large hand tilt the silver pot with steady precision. How does someone display so much authority just by pouring coffee? Everything about Rodrick is strength. Masculinity.
When I look up, he’s watching me, and that same shiver that hit me in his bedroom strikes again, even stronger.
I still haven’t asked what we were doing in his bed last night, because I’m not sure the answer won’t lead to a fight. It feels too early to be scolded.
“Part of the land is used for potatoes and grains, other sections for raising Highland[21] cattle.”
“The fluffy ones, right? They look like they have bangs.”
Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear I see the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Yes, those.”
“And they’re used for what?”
“Dairy and beef,” he replies, offering no further detail.
“What about the whisky? Kaled once told me you owned the largest Scotch whisky distillery, and the best-quality one too.”
Now I’m certain I wasn’t imagining the shadow of a smile. It’s obvious that while he inherited his land, what truly moves him is the distilled spirit business.
“I keep the land because I believe in tradition. Kindubh has belonged to my family forever. But my world . . . is whisky.”
“Can you tell me more about it?” I ask, relieved we have a momentary truce before the storm I’m sure is coming.