Page 76 of Spar of Hearts

Roderick smiled and brushed a lock of hair from her face, tracing the heights of her cheekbones. His heart was somehow aching and fluttering all at the same time. It was odd. It was nothing like before. Nothing like when he saw Millicent.

Whatever he was feeling, it was way worse than the carnal draw of the other night. He was imagining more—dreams of delicacies denied to him for over twenty years; aspects of life and love he’d vowed to steel himself from, for fear of taking an arrow to the heart. He wanted to put wildflowers in her golden hair, kiss her forehead every night as she closed her eyes.

Unobtainable treasures.

They would finish the expedition, and she would return to Eteross. Their success would surely secure her rightful place as the heir to the Valerian throne.

As for him?

If Petorus was no longer on the table, he was still qualified to be a royal knight. But he couldn’t bear to live on Eteross knowing Anya was so close. With her position secured, an arranged courtship would surely follow.

An engagement.

A marriage.

Any loyal knight would celebrate those occasions for their Princess. But perhaps he wasn’t as good of a knight as he thought.

These thoughts didn’t devastate him as they once might have. Octavio, Ornella, Bernard, Annette—they were there for him. The Lupus Star would welcome him—and it was beginning to sound better than Petorus every day.

Anya stirred, muttered incoherently, then finally settled back in with a tiny curve on her lips. He was so used to her being on her guard around him, alert, rigid. In this moment, she hid nothing from him.

But when she woke up, everything would go back to the way it was.

Chapter 27

Anya Delemond

The wash of waves on sand ebbed at Anya’s consciousness. It was a soft sound, far calmer than the rough slap of water on the oak planks of the Lupus Star.

That wasn’t right.

She blinked rapidly. Her eyes burned, tears multiplying with every flick of her lashes. Had she gotten drunk again?

She rubbed her head, but the telltale throb of a hangover and regret wasn’t there. Awareness seeped into the rest of her body, and along with it, every exposed inch of her came to life. Her senses expanded the longer she was awake. Toasted sand beneath her toes. Crackling fire. A quiet drip of water on stone. The rise and fall of breath beneath her cheek.

What?

She looked up to find Roderick fast asleep, clutching her tight to his chest. A single snaggle tooth fang poked out of his mouth.

And he was less than clothed.

“Ah!” Anya screamed. His eyes shot open. She pried herself away from him and fell back into the sandy floor of the cave. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She’d been dreaming of him, but this was much too real. She wasn’t about to get hoodwinked by a dream.

“No! Anya, it’s not what it looks like, we didn’t—”

Anya ignored Roderick’s pleading garble. Panic surged through her as she roved her body with her claws, trying to map how much of her was bare. She breathed a sigh of relief when she dropped them to her breasts, finding the familiar texture of her corset. It was disturbingly damp, and was that…seaweed?

She slowly pulled a slimy tendril of seaweed from between her cleavage. Dear Divine, it was a disgusting sensation. She shivered and flung it blindly.

“—and then we washed up he—” The seaweed landed square in Roderick’s face, freezing him mid-sentence.

“Oh stars, that was an accident, I swear!” Anya quickly fetched the piece from his face and threw it into the fire. It popped and sizzled as the water evaporated away. Roderick slowly wiped his face on his forearm.

“Good morning to you too. I’ll shut up now.”

“What happened? Why are you naked? Why am I?”

“Well, first of all, before your screaming and slimy wake up call, I was trying to explain. Second of all, neither of us are naked. On my honor, nothing untoward happened.”