“Isabelle, how lovely it is to meet you.”
The way his words rolled off his tongue made her hair stand on end, the growl of a predator.
Henri and Pierre weren’t like that, which she supposed was why she’d let them talk her into their beds. Not that she had needed much convincing, both being quite handsome in their own ways and her lust close to unbearable when she’d finally given in. She had needed someone, anyone, using sex as a reprieve from her distress when she should have been worshipping the moon mother.
And they were safe choices, nice young men who worked hard and treated her well. It had beenshewho had cut off the courting from both of them.
“I should… get back to work,” she said, moving to stand, but the look in his eyes made her freeze in place.
“Look around. All of your customers are perfectly content. We can chat for a bit longer.”
Isabelle focused back on the rest of the tavern, tearing her eyes away from Jean-Phillipe. As he’d said, everyone was happy, no one waving or shouting at her for more ale or mead. In fact, no one seemed to notice her at all, their gazes passing through her as if she didn’t exist.
She turned back to Jean-Phillipe, that wicked grin still gracing his face.
“What are you doing here? Do you have business in town?”
More brash than she normally was with patrons, but this man was frightening her, his fierce stare making her uneasy as he sipped his wine.
“Yes, some business,” he said, explaining exactly nothing.
“What kind? Are you a tradesman?” she asked, frustrated with his non-answer.
“I give people what they want.”
She was tempted to roll her eyes, but instead, continued with her questions.
“And whatdothe people want?”
“You’d be surprised how many are desperate for an escape. How many seekliberation.”
His answer sent a chill down her spine—as cryptic as it was—and she narrowed her eyes.
“And how long will you be staying in Marilet?”
Hopefully not long. She would be glad when she didn’t have to look over her shoulder anymore.
“As long as I need to.”
She swallowed hard, wanting to flee, but feeling an odd compulsion to stay. He remained silent, her discomfort growing until she felt the urge to speak again.
“I saw you at the temple the other day. What were you doing there?”
Jean-Phillipe considered her question with a thoughtful hum, taking a moment before answering.
“Searching for something.”
Dread settled in her stomach, an ominous wave overtaking her like she knew where this conversation was heading.
“And did you find it?”
Another smile, this one wicked, with too much teeth, like he was a beast from the woods and not a civilized man.
“I most certainly did.”
A man. A man. He was just a man. A forward man. A man who wanted to frighten her. But just a man.
“Well, I am happy for you. The moon mother has provided me much comfort in times of trouble.”
