Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“I just want to know why you said you were sorry,” he prompts sardonically as he paddles a palm of water at his pecs.
I shake myself back to attention and continue shoving my hand around inside the pack. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”
Did he go through this while I was passed out in the tunnel? And take the compass? There’s no way, with the pack as sturdy as it is and its ties being so tight, that the instrument could have fallen out.
Over in the river, there’s a big splash, followed by a slapping sound, as if he’s dived under and reemerged with a toss of all that black hair. Even though I try not to, I imagine his long locks coming out of the water in a fan, flipping over his head with a spray of clean droplets … and landing on his bare back.
Are there scars there as well?
“Everything about you concerns me,” he says brusquely. “Especially if you’ve made yourself an enemy of the court.”
“Julion left us on good accord.”
“For now.” A scenting now, spicy and pleasing. Soap that he keeps with him? “Is he one of your regulars? That why he was so determined to save you?”
“What would a man of his station want with me—what is that smell?”
“Arrow lily. There’s some growing right beside these rocks. It, and all this water, will take care of animals thinking I’m some kind of predator.”
Oh … great. Now all I can picture is him peeling the first layer of the stalk back with his sharp white teeth, and rubbing the red interior meat all over his—
“You must be very good at your job,” he says dryly.
“I’m sorry?”
“For that nobleman to be so concerned with your safety. And I really doubt you have anything to apologize to him for.”
When I don’t respond, silence flares between us, and I think of the lighted torch we had down below ground, a contained flame that could be destructive under different circumstances. Lack of trust is the same, a warning instinct that can consume.
There’s another round of splashing, much quieter, and I have to look again. Merc is cleansing his black shirting now and he’s using the contours of his abdominals as a washboard for the thing, rubbing the arrow lily in until frothing bubbles drop into the river. The way the suds flow down and swirl in front of him makes me think about what’s right below the surface at the front of his hips.
I have to turn away, but I continue to listen to him as he works on his leather britches and then his weapons.
That he isn’t bothered by the cold is a sign of his discipline. That I can’t keep my eyes off him is evidence of my lack of self-control.
Finally, he walks out of the river, and there’s a series of rustling and clanking, as he gets re-dressed and re-armed.
“You can turn around once again,” Merc announces as he hangs his pack off one shoulder. “I have all my naughty bits re-covered.”
On the pivot, I mutter through the leaves, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Courting tackle?” He comes toward me, entering the trees with his dripping leather surcoat hanging off his hand. “Sword and pouches? Hammer and stones—should I continue?”
Reclosing my pack, I sling the weight back onto my shoulders and I cover my ears. “That’s more than a sufficiency of terms, thank you.”
He’s laughing easily now, and even through the cup of my palms, I like the way it sounds. So I drop my hands.
When he’s right in front of me, he says, “I need you to stay here—”
“No—”
“—so I can get us a proper horse from the traveling road.”
“I’m coming with you—”
“No, you’re not.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I think of Julion’s warning about him. “Why not.”
“Because you’re not going to approve of how I do this, and I’m not interested in your opinion. Not unless we can throw a saddle on your censure and ride it out of here.” He drops his pack and his surcoat and points at them. “You stay here with these—they’re too wet for me to move well with them on. The daylight is properly arrived, and if we don’t get you out of here, you’ll be where we were last night.”
I know he’s right. We’ve already wasted a lot of time, and even though most of the villagers will probably stay within the wall, there’ll be those who must venture out—and they’ll have weapons on them, I’ll bet. Or at the very least, voices to call for people who are armed.
“Don’t hurt anyone.”
“Of course not,” he mutters as he starts to walk off. “Whyever would I do that.”
I stand there with his soggy things, watching him disappear anew into the trees, and then I’m left alone with my suspicions and my fear. After I look around for a moment, I drop down to my knees by what he’s left behind. Flattening out his leather surcoat, I double-check he’s still gone … then shove my hand in one of the big front pockets—