Cursed by Fire (16 page)

“No. Hanit has been my servant only a short while, but … but I believe in her. Grannish approached her shortly after my sisters died and threatened her if she did not work for him, then cajoled her by offering her money. She agreed to both but immediately told me. She knew if she had refused she would have been replaced. So we have it worked out that she will tell him only a little. We sometimes invent things to make her believable … but the important things she keeps secret. In a world where I cannot afford to trust, I believe and have total faith in her.”

“Very well. I will accept your estimation of the matter.” But Dethan was not entirely convinced. He realized the risk she would be taking by coming to his rooms each night. But still …

Dethan reached to touch the soft, supple skin of her long throat. He had never seen such a graceful neck that had not been on a goddess. She wore a sheer shawl over her shoulders and tucked into the top of her corset—yet another way of covering herself up. Why would Grannish want to hide her rather than flaunt his ownership of such beauty? Dethan would most certainly be proud of having a lover who—

“Have you been intimate with him?” he asked suddenly, sharply, before he realized he was even going to say it.

“What? No!” She sounded suitably horrified and the expression of disgust on her face convinced him that she had never had any desire toward Grannish, that this wasn’t just some ploy to make him jealous. He had not read her to be that way, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had misjudged a situation.

“He has not forced himself on you?” he asked more gently.

Color crept up her neck, chin, and cheeks. “No. Not yet,” she said softly. “But if he thinks there is a danger of you getting me pregnant before he can—”

“Nicely attempted,” he said with a chuckle, watching her color deepen, “but you will still be coming to my rooms. You must simply be careful so he doesn’t find out. And you will return to your rooms before the household awakens in the morning.”

“If that is what you want, Sor Dethan, then I will honor our agreement.”

“Every night, after juquil’s hour.”

“Very well,” she said.

He studied her for a moment, then touched her chin, using the connection to tip her head back and pull her gaze up to his.

He did not know why, did not fully understand the pull in those teal eyes of hers, but he found himself drawn to her. Found himself studying the softness of her lips. Had he ever seen a mouth so lush? How could she expect him to notice that small patch of burned skin on her lower cheek and jaw when she had such a pretty mouth to look at?

“How did it happen?” he asked, an attempt to thwart himself from the urge to kiss her. He would kiss her. Soon he would kiss her and claim those lush lips as his. He angled her head to the side and studied the scar up close. Upset, her hand immediately fluttered up to cover her cheek. He grabbed hold of it instantly and pulled it away. “The more you try to hide it, the more you try to cover it up, the more you draw attention to it,” he told her sternly. “Now, tell me. How did it happen?”

“My … my sister and I were playing and she pushed me … I fell into the fire and my hair caught fire. Nanny was quick to put it out—it could have been much worse—but the damage was done, and then it became infected and …” She swallowed hard and he saw tears shining
in her eyes. That strength he saw in her showed itself, however, as she straightened her spine and met his eyes and refused to shed a single one of those tears. “I learned very young to hide it however I could. It makes people uncomfortable to see it. Please don’t ask me to not wear my veils. I need them—”

“To make other people feel better?” He made a scoffing sound. “Let that be on them. Let them figure out how to deal with it. You are grandina of Hexis. Hold your head high and your face bare and remember that you possess all the power over them. If your father died tomorrow, you would be heir to the throne and would be granda in your own right.”

“Please,” she said softly, “do not speak of my father’s death. I have already lost so much of my family. More than half of it. As it is, I am afraid that as soon as I marry Grannish my father’s life will be in jeopardy.” She reached out and grasped at his shirt above his heart. “Please promise me you will not let that happen.”

“Your marriage or your father’s untimely demise?”

“Both,” she said, and he felt her tremble in his hands.

“My promises will mean nothing to you,” he said gently. “You do not know me, nor do you know my capabilities. All I can do is promise you to do my best to see to it none of that happens. My motives, as you know, are not altruistic or emotional. I will have my gold, will be head of your army, and I will have you to wife. Those are my goals and I rarely fail to achieve a goal. Take from that whatever comfort you can.”

“It gives me a great deal of comfort,” she said, opening her hand against his chest. “More comfort than I have known in turntides. For I believe you can do what you say you can. I would not have thrown my lot in with you otherwise.”

“Your bet is well placed, my lady,” he said with a cocky smile on his lips. Oh, it felt good to smile again.
To enjoy the company of another. Of a woman. Dethan had to admit he found the idea of marrying her more than a little appealing. He took in a breath and enjoyed the clean, floral scent of her. He pulled long waves of her ebony hair into his hand, brought it closer to his nose, and breathed even deeper of her scent.

“Oh, how I’ve missed this,” he said, his words low and fierce.

“M-missed …?”

He regained himself, letting her hair filter through his fingers and back onto her shoulder and breast.

“I have not been … I have not been close to a woman in a very long time. I look forward to your company tonight.”

She flushed a deep pink and looked down at his chest. They were standing too close together for her gaze to touch the floor. She went suddenly stiff in his hands and against his body.

“Wh-what if I do not wish to … to test you. To experience … you.”

He chuckled at her, unable to help himself. “Oh, you will want to,” he assured her. “But I will not force you, if that is what you mean. I will not have to force you. I assure you all will come very naturally.”

“I just don’t see how I could ever willingly …” She had begun to pull hard for breath and he could feel the upset in her with every fiber of his soul.

“Enough,” he said, lifting his fingers to her left cheek and brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “You will like whatever we do,” he said on a low, compelling whisper, his head dropping until his mouth was but a breath away from hers. Her eyes were wide, her breath heaving out of her. There was so much fear in her that he could practically taste it. And he simply would not have her that way. Unlike Grannish, he did not need to
control her. There were better ways of winning loyalty from someone other than fear and intimidation.

Dethan swept his mouth down onto hers in a sudden rush, his hands around her arms tightening as though he feared she would escape. But she was too stunned to make any attempt at it. So few had dared to kiss her … and those who had tried had been resoundingly rebuffed. Mostly because they were horribly unpalatable or horridly inappropriate. So, outside of her family members, she had never been kissed before. She had never known the astounding feel of a strong male mouth rushing up against her own.

The kiss was followed by the feel of that strong male body going tight with strength and tension. His heat all along the front of her body was overwhelming and it radiated his barely leashed power into her. And yet his mouth was soft … strong but soft. He slid his hands up from her arms and cradled her head between them, tilting her chin up so that she met with him better, so that she meshed more perfectly.

She did not know it or think it, but she was a natural when it came to kissing. She thought she didn’t know what to do, but instinctively she did, and that made the kiss almost painful in its perfection. She tasted so good that Dethan growled low in his throat, pulled her mouth up tighter to his, and then licked her between her lips.

She was startled by the introduction of his tongue. She had seen others kiss in such ways, but seeing it and doing it were two very different things. It somehow seemed far more intimate than what had just transpired had felt. Her heart was clamoring in her chest from the riot of emotions and worries stampeding through her.

“Enough!” he said on a low rumbling huff as he gave her a little shake. “Your taste tempts me and I will have the whole of it.” His mouth sealed to hers again and this time he thrust his tongue past her teeth. She was prepared
to hate it, prepared to be repulsed … but she was shocked to find she liked his taste as well, and the way he tangled their tongues together was so very hot and erotic to her. Illicit. Temptingly forbidden.

As she absorbed all this, she went completely boneless against him. The softening of her body only heightened her awareness of the hardness of his. He stood strong and dominant, feet braced apart, and his mouth devoured her in demanding sweeps of his tongue.

“There’s a sweet girl,” he breathed against her lips. “Ah, you have a fine flavor and I can feel the heat buried inside you.” He drew back and looked down into her eyes. “Yes, you’ll do very nicely,” he assured her. “And then some.”

She thought she should be offended, but she wasn’t. She was panting hard for breath and trying not to slide to the floor in a weak little pile of flesh that seemed to be suddenly absent any bone.

He seemed to understand her dilemma, because he slid his hand down to her back and used the press of his body to jog her more upright.

“Come, let us bring you to your rooms where you can lie down. I think you need some sleep.”

“But …” She looked genuinely puzzled.

“Unless there was something more you wanted?” he asked suggestively.

Another blush flamed across her cheeks and she fell all over herself to blurt out, “No!”

He threw back his head and laughed at her. But it wasn’t a mocking laugh or even a patronizing one. She knew the sound of those all too well. It was the laugh of someone who was honestly amused. She was so used to everything in the court being measured or manipulated, she couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced such genuine, unfiltered emotion.

“Come, sweet silk,” he said, running his fingertips
down the left side of her face before taking her hand and pulling her back into the hall. “Show me to your rooms so I will know the way.”

The very idea of him knowing where her rooms were and what he might use that knowledge for had her breath quickening in her lungs and her heart racing all over again. Only this time she was pretty sure it wasn’t fear she was feeling at the prospect of meeting him in the dark of night. She didn’t exactly know how to define it, but there it was just the same. She hesitated only a moment but then realized he could easily find someone else to show him the way if he so chose.

She stepped forward and led the way.

After leaving Selinda in her rooms, Dethan began the task of getting to know his way around. The fortress was heavily populated and extremely busy. Finding himself alone in a hallway was nearly impossible. It was a wonder he had been able to have those few private moments with Selinda. It also concerned him because if he insisted she keep her part of the bargain and come to his rooms every night, it would be easier for her to be seen and potentially get caught. He could have let her out of that part of the agreement, but the fact was this whole venture might endanger her, not just that aspect of it, and he needed her to be there every night if he was going to make any headway in his tasks. And his tasks were monumental.

And now of course there was something else … there was a kiss. A fierce, hotly innocent kiss. She so clearly knew nothing in the way of a man … or in what it meant to be a lover. That she was untouched only solidified this insanity, running rampant through these people, that she was somehow ugly. Were they all blind? Her father was apparently blind, but was everyone else equally blind? The idea was staggering. Like some sort of mass delusion. But he had seen a lot of strange things
in a lot of alien cultures in his time as a conqueror so it really ought not to surprise him.

Yet it did.

And that was the least of his worries. The rest of his goal loomed before him at a tremendous incline. But that had never stopped him before, and after learning how to endure under fiery, constant torture, navigating a few hiccups and bumps in this court seemed like child’s play. Or it would be if it were only himself at stake.

No. He shook that thought off. He was a conqueror. Whether the grandina lived or died, whether she wed him or not, he would conquer this city in Weysa’s name one way or another. He had to. He had to give Weysa everything she needed if he ever hoped to find himself in the position of being granted a favor by the goddess. Knowing that every day his brothers suffered as he had suffered drove him to find some way to see to their release from their curse. True, Weysa had risked much to free him, but if she could risk that much for him, then surely she could do so again. She would need good warriors, and if he did well, maybe he could convince her that they were worthy of saving and would only aid her cause.