sure there were others.”
Now he's laughing. “If I wasn't so sure that was an insult, I might feel flattered.”
“ Think what you want.”
“ Oh, believe me. I don't need your permission for that.”
“ You're a bastard.”
He straightens from his lackadaisical sprawl, hanging his arms off his knees. His eyes are hooded by the shadows cast by the overhanging beeches and gleam with amusement. And something else. Something darker. “You don't know me, Vol. Or you claim not to. It's never a good idea to judge people you don't know.”
“ So you do know me.”
“ Once.” She is falling in those eyes. “Very well.”
She folds her arms. The sunlight does nothing to warm her skin. “When?”
“ A gentleman never tells.”
“ I don't see a conflict of interest there.”
“ With a tongue like that, you have no need for a dagger.”
Vol tightens her grip on it instead. “Why are you following me?”
“ Because you seem to be avoiding me.”
“ There's a reason for that.”
His lips part into a slow and sensuous smile. “I know.”
Vol leans away from him, wishing that all she felt for him was fear. “What do you want?”
The smile turns slightly feral. “Is that an offer?”
“ No.”
“ Then you're baiting me.” He catches her by the waist then, and she tumbles into his lap. “Purposely.” The sensation of his gloved hands on her bare skin feels novel and strange. “And I don't like it.” She reaches for one of his knives and he shifts his legs away, tightening his hold on her little. “Don't.”
“ Why?”
“ Because it isn't very nice.”
“ You know what I mean.”
“ You didn't like the answer I gave you before. The truth may get me stabbed.”
“ Try me,” Vol says.
And, lowering his voice, he does.
Vol slaps him, hard.
“ Don't act so shocked. Half the men in that room were thinking the exact same thing.”
“ Stop it.”
“ You're right. That estimate is a bit high. Perhaps a fourth of them at most — and that queer little friend of yours.”
The mention of Tash makes her feel ill. “I don't see how this concerns you. You don't own me.”
“ Not yet, little bandit. But I could. Then I could have your heart, if I wanted. Steal it clean away.”
Lying here on this rock, surrounded by bluebells and sparkling water and dazzling sunlight, she feels as if she is playing keep-away on the edge of an abyss. On one side, safety. On the other side, danger. She knows which side she should choose but it's hard to escape from the rush of being perpetually on the edge, always ready to fall. “Don't,” she whispers, when he leans up to kiss her.
When he laughs, she feels the rumble of it through his body. “This isn't even real.”
“ It's real enough.”
A shadow crosses his face, as if a black cloud has blotted out the sun. His mercurial temperament is frightening. One minute he is mocking and making light of her. In the next, she finds herself dreading what he is going to do. “No, that's where you're wrong. It's nowhere even close.”
“ He leans closer.
“ Even so — what's one kiss?”
“ I'll stab you.” She has managed to free her dagger from the sheath at her thigh. She presses the blade against the hollow of his throat. She feels the muscles contract as he swallows and sighs.
“ That's very cold.”
It isn't clear if he is referring to her, or the knife.
“ I feel sorry for that girl. She thinks you're just golden — and you're going to break her heart.”
“ Stay away from Tash.”
“ That will be difficult if she's always by your side.”
“ Then stay away from me ,” she snarls.
“ Impossible.” She is tangled up in his coat.
“ I mean it. I'll cut you.” She presses down harder on the hilt. A bead of blood wells up and drips down his golden skin.
“ But Vol, all I want to do is keep you warm.”
Her breathing falters at his quiet insistence. “You—” She can't come up with a good enough set of nouns and
Now he's laughing. “If I wasn't so sure that was an insult, I might feel flattered.”
“ Think what you want.”
“ Oh, believe me. I don't need your permission for that.”
“ You're a bastard.”
He straightens from his lackadaisical sprawl, hanging his arms off his knees. His eyes are hooded by the shadows cast by the overhanging beeches and gleam with amusement. And something else. Something darker. “You don't know me, Vol. Or you claim not to. It's never a good idea to judge people you don't know.”
“ So you do know me.”
“ Once.” She is falling in those eyes. “Very well.”
She folds her arms. The sunlight does nothing to warm her skin. “When?”
“ A gentleman never tells.”
“ I don't see a conflict of interest there.”
“ With a tongue like that, you have no need for a dagger.”
Vol tightens her grip on it instead. “Why are you following me?”
“ Because you seem to be avoiding me.”
“ There's a reason for that.”
His lips part into a slow and sensuous smile. “I know.”
Vol leans away from him, wishing that all she felt for him was fear. “What do you want?”
The smile turns slightly feral. “Is that an offer?”
“ No.”
“ Then you're baiting me.” He catches her by the waist then, and she tumbles into his lap. “Purposely.” The sensation of his gloved hands on her bare skin feels novel and strange. “And I don't like it.” She reaches for one of his knives and he shifts his legs away, tightening his hold on her little. “Don't.”
“ Why?”
“ Because it isn't very nice.”
“ You know what I mean.”
“ You didn't like the answer I gave you before. The truth may get me stabbed.”
“ Try me,” Vol says.
And, lowering his voice, he does.
Vol slaps him, hard.
“ Don't act so shocked. Half the men in that room were thinking the exact same thing.”
“ Stop it.”
“ You're right. That estimate is a bit high. Perhaps a fourth of them at most — and that queer little friend of yours.”
The mention of Tash makes her feel ill. “I don't see how this concerns you. You don't own me.”
“ Not yet, little bandit. But I could. Then I could have your heart, if I wanted. Steal it clean away.”
Lying here on this rock, surrounded by bluebells and sparkling water and dazzling sunlight, she feels as if she is playing keep-away on the edge of an abyss. On one side, safety. On the other side, danger. She knows which side she should choose but it's hard to escape from the rush of being perpetually on the edge, always ready to fall. “Don't,” she whispers, when he leans up to kiss her.
When he laughs, she feels the rumble of it through his body. “This isn't even real.”
“ It's real enough.”
A shadow crosses his face, as if a black cloud has blotted out the sun. His mercurial temperament is frightening. One minute he is mocking and making light of her. In the next, she finds herself dreading what he is going to do. “No, that's where you're wrong. It's nowhere even close.”
“ He leans closer.
“ Even so — what's one kiss?”
“ I'll stab you.” She has managed to free her dagger from the sheath at her thigh. She presses the blade against the hollow of his throat. She feels the muscles contract as he swallows and sighs.
“ That's very cold.”
It isn't clear if he is referring to her, or the knife.
“ I feel sorry for that girl. She thinks you're just golden — and you're going to break her heart.”
“ Stay away from Tash.”
“ That will be difficult if she's always by your side.”
“ Then stay away from me ,” she snarls.
“ Impossible.” She is tangled up in his coat.
“ I mean it. I'll cut you.” She presses down harder on the hilt. A bead of blood wells up and drips down his golden skin.
“ But Vol, all I want to do is keep you warm.”
Her breathing falters at his quiet insistence. “You—” She can't come up with a good enough set of nouns and
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