“Women are deceptive creatures of darkness whose beauty lures us close enough so they can carve their claws into our flesh.” A glint of humor lit Aron’s gaze as he took another deep gulp of the wine. “Which is why they must be declawed as soon as possible, as you’ve done with Cleo.”
o;You must be very special, my lord.”
“Do you want anything else to eat, my pet?”
“No—no, my lord. Much gratitude to you, but I really should go back. It’s late.” She glanced toward the flap and Magnus eased back into the shadows to keep from being seen.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“It’ll be an early day tomorrow, and—”
Aron was on her in an instant, pulling her up out of the chair and pressing his mouth to hers.
She gasped against his lips as she wrenched away from him. “Lord Aron . . . I barely know you!”
“You know me well enough. You’ll stay the night with me.”
Her cheeks turned bright red and she wrapped her arms around her chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. My father—”
“Your father would give permission if I asked him. You think he wouldn’t?” Aron gave her a wide, toothy smile. “He knows how important I am to the king. I do very special assignments for King Gaius—things not everyone would do. I take care of his problems under the cloak of night.”
“Problems?”
“Stupid, ignorant people that stand in the way of what he wants. I’ve proven myself so fully to King Gaius that he would allow me anything I desire.” His gaze swept the length of her with appreciation. “And right now I desire you.”
“I must go.” Eugeneia turned toward the flap.
Aron caught her arm. “I like a girl who plays hard to get, but my patience wears thin.”
“I’m not the kind of girl who stays with a man she only just met, even if he is an important lord.”
“Actually,” his grip increased, “you are exactly the kind of girl I tell you to be.”
“No, Lord Aron. I’m—”
Aron let go of her only to strike her hard across her right cheek.
Magnus tensed, but stayed silent, watching. Waiting for the right moment.
Eugeneia pressed her palm against her face, now backing away from Aron toward the table. Her wide eyes glistened with tears. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Aron loomed over her. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself entirely clear. I chose you above any of the Paelsian whores out there who’d jump at the chance to warm my bed tonight. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
He grabbed her tightly and drew her to his chest. His hands slid down her sides as he began to pull at her skirts.
But then he staggered back from her, looking down to see the tip of a small knife imbedded in his thigh. It was the dagger he had used to cut the peach—Eugeneia must have lifted it. Magnus was impressed. He hadn’t even seen her do it.
Aron glared down at her with pain and fury as he yanked it out, letting it clatter to the tabletop. He clutched the girl by her throat and slammed her down against the table.
Magnus’s gaze moved to the dagger for an instant before he closed the distance in four paces and curved his hand firmly around Aron’s upper arm.
“Not a good idea,” he said.
Aron cast a look back at him. “This ignorant bitch cut me.”
“Yes, she did. Let go of her.” The best way to deal with this drunken fool was not to be overtly stern or forceful. Instead, he gave Aron a smile. “She’s meaningless.”
His eyes blazed. “I wanted her. And I get what I want.”