The Lady of the Storm - 2 by Kathryne Kennedy

could serve the Rebellion in a way more suited to his character, had made him speak more harshly than he intended.
    He longed for adventure. He ached for the chance to deliver a blow to the elven lords that would ease the suffering in his heart for the death of his father and brother. And he had felt stifled in this little village. An entire world waited for him, and now he had the chance to experience it.
    Her gaze finally left his chin to glance up into his eyes. He resisted the urge to take a step backward, to escape the feeling that she delved into his very soul.
    “It must have been dreadful for you,” she said, “having to watch over some foolish little chit, while my father went off on his grand missions.”
    She had struck too close to home. For the first time, it occurred to him that the girl might know him just as well as he knew her. She had watched him often enough. With the other young women of the village. Until that night she had… fie, she’d almost destroyed his entire mission when she had climbed into his bed and offered herself to him.
    If she had not been so innocent, he wouldn’t have been able to resist bedding her. And Thomas would have killed him.
    “My feelings in this matter are not significant.” This time he willed himself to speak harshly. He felt sure any infatuation for him that she’d suffered from as a child had faded on her maturity. Indeed, he should have felt relieved by the coldness she had treated him to since that night. The fact that it rankled still confused him. “We will leave at once.”
    “I beg your pardon,” she replied, in a tone that suggested she offered no such thing. “I do not recall asking for your company.”
    “You will have it, whether you wish it or no. Until I deliver you into someone else’s safekeeping, you are my responsibility.”
    “Indeed. You still seem to suffer under the delusion that I need protection. Did you not witness what I did yesterday? Do you not realize how many bodies litter the waters of my ocean?”
    She raised her hands, her fingers playing some invisible melody in the air. He knew how deadly a mere gesture from her could be, although he had not truly understood the extent of her power until he’d witnessed it. But behind the anger in her eyes, he saw a deep sadness, and her breath had hitched when she spoke of her waters.
    Perhaps another would not have noticed. But he’d studied her interactions with others often enough to see past the shield of her public face.
    “You did what you had to,” he said, closing the distance between them. She smelled like lavender and deep ocean. A heady scent no other woman could ever match. “Just as I did what I needed to do.”
    “I do not like killing.”
    “Nor do I.”
    She waved her fingers again. “I do not like you .”
    Giles laughed. “Do not think you frighten me, little girl. You shan’t be rid of me so easily.”
    Her mouth dropped open, and he fought the urge to kiss her. Heaven help him on their journey to Firehame. His only defense against her appeal had been distance, and he would not be able to keep it. And now that she knew the truth about him, it seemed it had broken some sort of barrier between them, for they spoke to each other now more than they had in the past nine years. Which meant he would have to be even more vigilant against his affection for her.
    At the thought, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, that thrill of anticipation running through him again. Indeed, he did have an affection for her. How astonishing.
    She stepped away from his touch. “Do not think to use your wiles upon me. I am no longer a child. And do not think I am going with you to become some pawn for your Rebellion. I will not be used—by you or anyone else. I am going to see this Sir Robert of yours only to find my father. He will know of Thomas’s last mission… unless… did Father tell you?”
    Giles shook his head. Even if he did know, he wouldn’t likely tell her, nor did