Chapter 6 Halvar
Halvar
I should never have looked in that damned mirror.
The sight of her lithe and supple body submerged in water, wet strands of copper hair clinging to her collarbones, was enough to have the blood in my veins heating and my jaw clenching shut.
Then she’d gone and almost knocked herself unconscious by slipping.
A low rumble shook my chest as I pressed my hands against the table in my chamber and hung my head.
She was beautiful. There was no denying that. Anyone would be a fool to think otherwise.
From the way her cheeks pinked from embarrassment to the cunning glint in those ethereal brown-and-gray eyes when she didn’t think anyone was watching, she was effortlessly stunning, and somehow, just being in her presence had my chest tightening and eyes wandering where they shouldn’t.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image of her in nothing but a towel, water sliding down the curve of her delicate neck, material bunched at her chest, the smell of lavender clouding around her as she tried to cross the room.
Fuck, even the way she carried herself was something to marvel at.
Dignity and grace filled each step, and part of me begged to follow her.
Getting involved with her would be catastrophic, though.
First of all, she was my charge, a princess so far out of reach the king would slaughter me for touching her.
Second, and most importantly, I didn’t do attachments.
In my line of work they were dangerous, and I’d learned a long time ago not to fall into that four-letter trap. It would take me down with it.
A groan ripped from me and I stalked across my room, throwing myself onto the bed. I leaned back on the linens and pillow, not bothering to remove my clothes for the night. Hopefully, by dawn, the tension in my body would have dissipated.