Discomfort rapidly dims my good mood. Connor might be my best friend, but we rarely speak of personal matters. Nor do I speak about them with anybody else. That’s why they’re called personal. You keep them to yourself.
I know damn well what he’s referring to. My youth. The…dysfunction between my parents—and me by default. At a young age, I received a valuable education about family dynamics and relationships between men and women. How torturous and painful they can be. Are those hard-won lessons precisely why I refuse to be a husband myself?
More than likely.
Is that something I plan on addressing with Connor?
Hell no. I barely acknowledge the past to myself, let alone another man.
Is he fucked in the head for bringing it up?
“Hold your tongue,” I warn him in a growl. “We grew up together and therefore you know things about me others do not, but those matters are not—and will never be—open for discussion. I have proven I will lay down my life for Fallstrom. I can rule without a simpering maiden by my side, constantly demanding attention and distracting me from my job. In my opinion, my lack of desire for a wife makes me more fit to rule the kingdom, because it proves I have half a brain. And what’s more…”
The words quite simply dry up in my mouth.
I’m not even sure what I was saying to Connor, although I’m sure it was important.
Who is that woman?
My features pull into a frown and I step around Connor to get a better look.
“Who in the hell…”
I’m already walking in her direction, vaguely aware of Connor calling after me in confusion. But I’m unable to stop. If I don’t get to her quickly, some other man is going to snatch her away—that I am sure about.
She will do nicely for a mistress.
Oh yes, there is no doubt in my mind.
This one is mine.
To say she stands out from the others would be an understatement. This young woman has a backbone. It’s the first thing I notice. There’s a fire in her eyes. Maybe even a little impatience with the lively discussion taking place among the other females. She’s not delicate like the rest of them. She’s shapely of hip and generous of bosom. A body built to withstand a hard ride on a cold night. And I plan to be the one doing the riding.
Christ, the closer I get to the girl, the more my pulse starts to rattle.
Black hair down to her waist, blue hues picked up by the moonlight.
A full, red mouth.
And those eyes. They promise midnight pleasure so great, a man would crawl on his hands and knees just to be welcomed under the covers beside her.
There’s a tug in my subconscious, almost like the kind of warning I get on the battlefield, telling me this female is meant for better things than being the king’s permanent lay. But she’s already got my cock at full mast in my breeches and he’s not exactly listening to reason down there. I’ll have my first relief in years between her legs, so help me God. I’ve waited a long time for a woman who can take me—and this is she. I’m never wrong.
“Woman,” I call, crooking my finger at her. “I’ll have a word with you.”
The females surrounding my future mistress wince as one.
“Oh?” Her raven eyebrow arches. “Well I’ve got two words for you. Drop dead.”2GwenWho exactly does this man think he is?
Cock of the bloody walk, coming over here, interrupting my conversation—never mind that I wasn’t really listening—crooking his finger at me?
I don’t think so.
I’m at the Joining for serious business. I don’t have time for this arrogant giant and whatever he has to say. I have to make this gathering count. The happiness of my family depends on it.
Unfortunately, when I tell him to drop dead, which is a particularly favorite term of mine, the giant does something I’m not expecting.
He laughs.
Long and loud. Appreciatively.
He’s not even offended.
And reluctantly…I like that.
Men get their feelings hurt so easily. They’re like roosters, going around with big, puffed up chests, but as soon as they’re challenged, they turn into sputtering ducks, their tail feathers quivering over the dent in their ego. I work day and night to support my sisters, turning soil in the fields, harvesting crops and caring for the animals. A lot of people in our kingdom call it man’s work, but tell me one man who can do it better.
My attitude hasn’t won me the favor of the local men, what with their tarnished pride over being second best and all. So I’ve come to the Joining to find a husband who I haven’t already angered in one way or another. Not because I’m terribly keen to have a man around or anything, but our farm had two bad harvests in a row. And now I’m desperate.