She blushed—because of course she did. Her pale complexion was always prone to flush, even if someone just looked at her. “No,” she answered him firmly. Then she lifted an eyebrow. “But you clearly are.”
His smile curved higher. “I just want to be between you and the door, if you don’t mind.”
It didn’t take a leap of logic to understand that he wanted to put himself between her and a potential threat. Her heart warmed, and her belly fluttered. But the main door wasn’t the only way in. She glanced toward the balcony doors. “Couldn’t an assassin climb up that way?”
“Possibly,” Carver said. “But we’re high enough up, it’s unlikely. Scaling these walls isn’t easy.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know that from experience, I take it?”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
“It’s amazing you didn’t break your neck as a child.”
“My mother often says the same thing,” he assured her.
Shaking her head, Amryn slid across the soft mattress, making room for him.
He was still grinning, his charming dimple on full display as he moved to his side of the bed. And it would always be his side of the bed, she realized. From now on, whenever they shared a bed, his side would always be closest to the door. The realization warmed her. Not just because it proved his protectiveness, but because it was a reminder that their arranged marriage was real. He was her husband—not just in Esperance, but in the outside world, too.
Apprehension suddenlybillowed.
She looked up to find Carver watching her carefully. His blue eyes were shuttered, and she realized the unexpected emotion came from him.
His voice was low. “If I have a nightmare, I need you to remember your promise not to touch me. When I’m caught in one, I’m not aware of my actions. I . . .” He swallowed, and raw vulnerability throbbed. “I could hurt you, Amryn. The only way I can sleep beside you is if you promise to leave the bed if I have a nightmare. That you’ll keep your distance until I’m fully awake.”
Her heart cracked at the anguish he felt. The almost desperate fear. “I promise,” she said.
Some of his concern relaxed, though a sense of dread lingered. “Thank you.” He gestured to the lamp. “Are you ready for the light?”
When she nodded, Carver leaned over and blew out the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. But it wasn’t absolute. Moonlight creeped in from the windows, highlighting Carver as he lifted the blankets and climbed into the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. A careful gap of space remained between them, though as he maneuvered to get comfortable, she rolled onto her side to face him.
She waited until he’d settled onto his back, one hand under his head, before she whispered, “Thank you.”
He didn’t ask what she was thanking him for. Maybe he understood it was for a lot of things. “You’re welcome.” He hesitated, then rolled onto his side so they faced each other in the dark. He let his hand lay palm up on the bed between them.
Her heart squeezed. He had reached for her hand nearly every night on their journey to Zagrev. It had been a point of comfort and connection between them since the first time he’d done it, after she’d tended his numerous insect bites. A way to be there for each other, even when they couldn’t speak freely.
She set her palm against his, and his fingers curled around hers.
His voice was soft in the darkness but lined with steel as he vowed, “Iwillkeep you safe, Amryn. I promise.”
Chapter 14
Carver
AwarenesstrickledinasCarver woke. The first thing he registered was the soft mattress beneath him. The second thing was the soft heat curled around him, a delicious weight he didn’t understand. Not until he breathed in the cool scent of citrus and mint.
His heartbeat stuttered. His eyes popped open, and fiery red curls filled his vision.
Amryn was lying half on top of him, tucked against his side. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, one hand flattened against his scarred skin. Her wild curls spilled over him, and she had a leg thrown over one of his.
He was flat on his back. One palm rested against the small of her back and the other was curved around her hip. Both caught the radiating warmth of her body.
He tensed. Blazing Saints, had he . . . No. A quick assessment assured him that he hadn’t moved from his side of the bed. He’d been so paranoid of hurting her if a nightmare came, he’d held himself firmly in place as he’d drifted to sleep. He hadn’t invaded her space or dragged her into his arms during the night.
Shehad come tohim.
He hadn’t even felt her press against him. He’d just shifted to hold her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if, even unconscious, he knew he was safe with her. Just as she must have felt safe with him.
