Page 86 of Winds of Ruin
He shook his head. “Why should I? She’s just found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can think of someone else who makes a habit of that.”
He narrowed a pointed and knowing stare over his shoulder at me.
When I’d first met him, he’d wanted to throw me in a dungeon cell because he thought I’d gone to Luz to assassinate Sybilla—an unfortunate misunderstanding. I’d only been looking for my brother.
“How do you know it’s female?”
“She has an egg sack on her back.”
I shivered, and he huffed out a laugh again. Once he’d released the creature and promptly shut the window against the frosty, snow-laden wind, he turned to face me.
It only just occurred to me that all I wore was damp silk, and I tried to tell myself the chill from my window had made my nipples pebble, not the delicious sculpture of the man that stood in my room saving me from a spider.
I pulled the robe tighter, though it only pushed my breasts together more. They weren’t large by any means, but I’d long ago learned how to position myself in ways to deceive the eye. I wondered what he’d do if I struck one of those poses now. Curiosity got the best of me.
His nostrils flared slightly, and his brows rose.
He’d noticed.
The trailing of his gaze gave him away, but he quickly corrected his attention.
Ever the gentleman.Somewhere beneath that, though, I would put good coin on him enjoying the idea of stripping away all his manners in favor of something wilder.
I could be that something—if only for a night.
Bad, impulsive idea.
“Thank you.” I closed the distance between us.
He placed his palms on my shoulders, looking like he wanted to keep me an arm’s length away, and not let me gravitate any closer. “Of course. Sorry to barge in. I thought...”
I smirked as his cheeks grew a marvelous shade of mauve and his elbows bent, allowing me an inch closer. “You thought I was in mortal danger and rushed to save me, puppy?”
I glanced down at his exposed chest. I thanked the Sethe curse for preserving it. A mottling of scars formed faint handprints on either side of his sternum.
My fingers traced the lines. “Where did you get them?”
He swallowed hard. “When Firose captured me and Asterie and brought us to the Central Tower, she burned me.”
Seeing red, I gently covered the scars with my hands, wishing my touch could replace such an awful memory. If she hadn’t died in the crumbling amphitheater, I’d kill Firose. I couldn’t understand how she and Emmerick had made amends and ended up together in Sahlmsara, and he never spoke ill of her.
“Else.” It came out as a breathy warning. “I should leave you to your evening.”
I couldn’t help it. I trailed a finger down his torso, ending at the V shape at the waist of his breeches. “Youshould. Or you could stay.”
When I met his gaze again, it was smoldering. But instead of reacting to my touch, and giving in to what I offered, he answered, “That’s an awful idea.”
“What’s an awful idea?” I wanted him to say it.
“Fornicating with friends has never done me much good.”
“So you’re thinking about it?” I pressed.
He tilted his head, looking dazed with confusion.
“Fornicating—with me,” I clarified.
I reached up to press a hand where his cheeks reddened and felt the warmth spread beneath his dark stubble.
