Page 57 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
She had never seen Kai undressed.
She felt a mingling of fear and something else she couldn’t quite place. Something warm. He was lean and battle-strong, with a dusting of fine, raven hair that trailed from his chest down to his flat belly before disappearing beneath the blankets.
She had to remind herself to breathe.
He patted a spot on the mattress beside him. “Come here. I have a surprise for you.”
A surprise? Was that subtext for something more? She glanced at his supine form but couldn’t tell if he wore anything under the covers.
Even in the dim lighting, the panic must have shown on her face. He sat up and pulled away the blanket, revealing bare feet and a pair of long legs concealed beneath his breeches. Kneeling on the mattress, he gestured at the opposite side table, where someone had placed a tray of food.
“Come,” he said in his thick accent. “I promise you’ll like it.”
She obeyed. The swishing of her silken robes was the only sound as she crossed the room in tentative steps. When she reached her side of the bed, she sat on the edge of the mattress and inspected the tray.
Instantly, her mouth dropped open.
“Desserts from the Northlands,” he said. He scooted nearer, settling beside her and folding his legs so that one knee rested against her hip. He nodded toward a single goblet. “And summer cider.”
Lyra’s first instinct was to mistrust the offering. Why had he brought these delicacies from her home? To taunt her? Or as a bribe? Did he think she could be bought so easily?
At her hesitation, Kai explained, “I know how much you miss the cider.”
She turned to him with a question in her eyes.
Kai dropped his gaze and used a finger to trace the patterns on her dress. “I overheard you talking with the chambermaid when you first arrived. It took a few days, but I eventually found some fresh import at the market in town.” He reached for her hand, but seemed to think better of it. “I know this doesn’t feel like your home, but I want you to be comfortable here.”
A soft sensation spread through Lyra’s chest, followed by a pang of guilt for her cruel assumptions about him. She looked at Kai—really studied him for the first time—taking in the masculine angle of his jaw and the stubble of growth along his chin, his nose slightly bent from an old injury. When his gaze flickered up at her, Lyra realized the maid had been right. Kai’s eyes were the precise shade of hura spice, rich and warm and brown, fringed by thick lashes that gave him a hint of boyish innocence.
In his unique way, Kai was rather spectacular. How had she failed to notice before?
“Thank you,” she said.
He reached for the goblet and handed it to her. “Here, drink it while it’s still cold.”
She paused to inhale the scent, then took a greedy gulp, closing her eyes as the flavor of honeyed fruit transported her home. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she couldn’t stop smiling. He was right—she’d missed this.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing for the cup. When she passed it to him, he took a sip while watching her from above the rim.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I’m unaccustomed to the taste.” He drank again, still watching her. “But with time, I could easily grow to enjoy it.”
Lyra’s face heated. She had a feeling he wasn’t referring to the cider. Deeper still, she knew the time had come to stop avoiding him. There was a hunger in his gaze that not even she could misinterpret. She swallowed her fear and told him, “I was thinking the same about your melon wine.”
“Wait until you try the autumn ale. It’s my favorite.” Abruptly, his gaze shifted to the base of her neck. He leaned forward and lifted her hair while blowing on the beads of perspiration that had formed there. The intimate act made her skin prickle into chills. “It’s warm tonight,” he said. “Do you need help unlacing your robes?”
“I do.” She stood from the bed. “I’ll call for my maid.”
“Please.” He caught her wrist, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin that tugged a dimple into view. Her heart skipped. “Permit me.”
She lowered to the mattress as if entranced. Much like melon wine, Kai’s touch was new to her, but not at all unpleasant. Licking her lips, she faced the wall and pulled her long, blond hair aside to give him access to her laces.
The bed shifted as he moved behind her, and then she felt the brush of his fingers at the nape of her neck. After a quick tug, he freed the knot and began the process of loosening the stays from top to bottom. Each time he exposed a new inch of skin along her spine, he stroked the spot with his thumb and put a hitch in her pulse.
“Do you ride?” he asked, the deft motion of his hands never slowing.
“Yes.” Lyra’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “But not often enough. My father lost most of his ponies in the war.”
