The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 by Kathryne Kennedy Page B

yawned again. The stress of the day seemed to have caught up with her. Despite the hardness of the bed, she found herself falling back onto it.
       "Yep, likely to be more of a chore 'n scraping carrots." The patter of her bare feet sounded all the way to the double doors leading out to the hall. Cass realized she should see about shoes for the girl as well.
       Gwen's voice drifted through the quiet length of rooms. "Ye won't forget to come fetch me, will ye?"
       "Of course not, Gwendolyn," called Cass. "Who shall unbutton me tomorrow night?"
       And with that assurance, the door closed with a rattle, and alone in a strange room, Cass chided herself. What did she think she was doing? Setting up a household as if she had a right to. Why did she have to keep reminding herself that her marriage was nothing more than a falsehood? That this would never be her home, nor would she ever wish it to be. She had a larger task than improving the lives of a few slaves; indeed, she had the means to free them all. If she succeeded.
       But it could be months before she found the right opportunity. Her mind balked at the thought that it could be years, for she couldn't imagine living years with these heathen people in this dreadful place. Besides, she had resigned herself to a short life. And the herbs she used to prevent a child might not be as reliable as she hoped. No, she could not be in this situation for long.
       "But still," she whispered to the empty walls, "I will have to have my buttons undone in the meantime."
       And with those words she must have dozed off, for a sudden loud noise made her jump up in bed, blink sleepily at the clock over the hearth. Late night or early morning, she could take her pick, but hadn't the time to decide before a large shadow entered the room. Her husband had decided to forgo his mistress tonight after all. Cass's heart started pounding, and all vestiges of sleep fled as General Dominic Raikes's cold gaze surveyed the room and then finally settled on her.
       "Take off your clothes."
       Good Heavenly Lord. Cass could only stare at him in sheer terror.
       "Are you deaf, wife? I said undress." He stood with his hands on his hips, in nothing but his breeches and hose. Had he shed his clothes on the way to their bedchamber, or were they strewn about his mistress's rooms?
       The thought managed to pump a bit of anger through Cass. Another humiliation to add to the ones he'd already subjected her to today. "I cannot undo the laces of my stays. And there were no servants to help me."
       She thought he scowled, but it might have been her imagination, for the candle she'd lit had burned down, and she had only the light from the dying fire to see him.
       "You should learn to do for yourself. Depending on others only makes you weak."
       She swallowed a retort that he didn't have backlacing stays or hundreds of buttons where one couldn't reach, because he started for her and fear locked her throat. When he stood close enough to touch, she began to tremble. She'd heard the other girls in school whisper about the act. Nothing she'd heard had prepared her for this moment. Her husband was a horrible monster and would show her no mercy. She didn't know whether to scream or kill him.

Four

    Cass could do neither. Nor could she afford to hate him, as much as she would like to. It would not serve the Rebellion's cause.
       "Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed and braced herself, expecting him to rip the laces from the fabric. But his fingers barely touched her skin, his hands gentle as he unlaced the ties and eased the stays off her. Then he made a noise in his throat, and Cass looked over her shoulder.
       Fie, how she wished he weren't so beautiful. The firelight gleamed in his silver hair, danced along the muscled planes of his naked chest. His eyes appeared enormous in the half-light, dark and mysterious and capable of stealing her soul. Her fear of him didn't