A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)

He wasn’t going to drop this until I answered, I could see that in his eyes. “I can’t do it when I’m stressed sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“Were you ‘stressed’ this afternoon, say in an alley with four men surrounding you?”

Ugh, he was annoying. And I hated that he had to know about this. I was going to respond with something impolite, when the church bell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. “What time is it?” I asked, looking out to the terrace, seeing that the sun was dimming in the sky.

“Seven.”

“Oh, bloody hell. I’m late!” I was really going to hear it this time. I pulled my hair out of my dress and rushed to get my sandals.

“For what?”

“Just a gathering where some men come to meet us to see if we’d be suitable for pledging.”

He stilled, giving me a ‘You’re jesting’ look. “You came here with the intention to sleep with me, gave us a couple of hours, and then were planning to rush back to pick out a man to marry?”

I sat on the bed, wrapping my sandals up my calves. “Yea, I guess that’s the way it happened.”

A disbelieving, dark laugh escaped him.

“I wish I could say it’s been swell and to have a great trip, but it really hasn’t. You’re rude, and I hope you get seasick.”

“I don’t get seasick,” he said wryly.

“Life just isn’t fair, is it?” I muttered.

For some reason, the air grew heavy as if there was something about to be said. I looked up to see him leaning against the desk. He chewed his cheek and paused for many moments. But then shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’ve decided to stay for a couple more days.”

I raised my eyebrow, ignoring the way my heart jumped in my chest. “What for? Are there more virgins in the city you plan to take advantage of?”

Dark amusement glinted in his eyes. “Only the ones who enter my room and ask for it.”

My blood heated that I had ever been so insistent. And then boiled at the insinuation that he would sleep with any virgin who was brave enough to come asking for it. I didn’t know if there were many out there . . . but still.

“I shall pray for her,” I said, getting to my feet.

“And repent for me afterward?” His gaze was mocking.

I gritted my teeth, walking to the door. “As for you, I think I shall let you rot, after all.”

Fuck me, I thought, watching Calamity walk out the door, only to hear her let out a breath and then a small laugh around the corner as if she had run into someone. I already knew who the bastard was.

“Watch where you’re going, little witch.”

My eyes narrowed at Maxim’s voice.

“You ran into me. Keep your eyes off the floor. You can fantasize about all your women when you aren’t walking the hallways.”

“My palace. I’ll fantasize wherever I want.”

“Your stolen palace,” I heard her say, her voice drifting down the hallway. I was really beginning to hate the camaraderie they shared, a jealous heat crawling up my back. Every time I saw them together I remembered her sitting on his lap in his camp and a mad ache crept under my skin to hit something. Preferably Maxim’s face.

“Well, fuck me,” Maxim said as soon as he stepped into the room, his gaze going from me to the glass shattered across the floor.

I’d known I wouldn’t be able to keep this from him—the consequences of the stupid bond. But fuck if I had to talk to him.

I merely shot him a glance before walking onto the terrace and sitting in a chair overlooking the city. The sun was falling behind the horizon, and glowing orange torches were carried through the streets to light the lanterns.

I knew this woman would fuck everything up. I’d known it when she walked into that Cameron tavern, and I’d gotten a good look at her. So innocent. But for some reason, the thought that those dark, bottomless eyes would look so much better as she gazed up from her knees at my feet, had been my first thought.