It took all my restraint to keep silent then. The truth was, I could see her as plain as day. However much of the tincture she’d taken must have been enough to lower her defenses. Or diminish her magic, depending on how it works. Because when she stripped off that shirt, I saw everything. Not just a haze. Not just an impression of nudity.
All of it. Every curve, dip, and mound. Every shade of flesh, from her smooth skin to her coral lips and the rosy peaks of her breasts.
When I tried to leave, she stumbled over to stand between me and the door. I kept my eyes fixed on the top portion of the doorframe, but that only seemed to upset her.
“Even if you could see me, you wouldn’t care,” she said, her voice taking on a slight quaver. “You wouldn’t even find me attractive, would you? It’s because you don’t like me at all. You think I’m annoying and…and you hate me.”
That’s when she dissolved into wailing tears.
“I don’t hate you,” I begrudgingly told her, but she wouldn’t stop crying until I wrapped her in a loose hug. I patted her back, careful not to let too much of her naked flesh press against me. Not that there wasn’t a strong urge to pull her close. But that would have been…disrespectful of her condition. And highly illogical.
“I don’t want to wear clothes,” she whined when she finally managed to dry her tears. Then her face brightened. “Huntsman! We should have sex!”
After that, I quite forcibly got her dressed with haste, aiding with everything from lacing up her corset to buttoning her damn shirt. She was asleep on her feet by the time I secured the last button, but that wasn’t before she tried to tug off my shirt at the same time I was fastening hers.
The memory sends heat rising to my cheeks and a buzzing sensation to my chest.
Astrid scowls at me from the other bench as if the nature of my musings is clearly written over my face. Ever since she awoke, her magic has returned, so I’m once again left with only a vague awareness of her expressions. At least her scent has mellowed somewhat, which tells me her scowl is for a different reason that has nothing to do with me having seen her naked.
“If we still have so much proof left to find,” she says, “then why are we going to the Spring Court? And…” She lets out a gasp. “My job! How could you just drag me away from the hotel like that? I have clients—”
“We already discussed this,” I say. It was before the clothing incident, so I don’t know why she doesn’t remember. “I spoke with Madame Desire and told her to charge my account any fee for the inconvenience of losing you as an employee for the time being. She wasn’t upset.”
Astrid frowns. “She should have been. I’m quite good at what I do, you know.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She gives me an assessing look. “Someone like you could use my services.”
I bristle. “What the blooming fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You just strike me as someone who could use a little passion in his life.”
I open my mouth, on the verge of delivering some barbed quip, but I’m rendered mute as I recall her rather animated proposition last night. I’m particularly disturbed that the thought isn’t at all unpleasant to me. Shouldn’t it be? I was sent to hunt her down. I nearly attempted to rip her heart from her chest. Sure, I now know she isn’t a murderer, and yet…
I blink at her a few times. Why would I even entertain such a thought? It’s not like she meant what she said last night. She was out of her wits. There’s no part of her that could possibly fancy the man who attempted to kill her. Not to mention, romance isn’t in the cards for me. It hasn’t been for years. I learned just how detrimental love can be when it comes to my senses, making me prone to deception, more susceptible to believing lies, more ignorant to truths lying just beneath the surface. The worst thing I could possibly do for Astrid Snow is fall in love with her. To prove her innocence, she needs me sharp. Clearheaded. Not a lust-driven imbecile who can’t properly smell a truth from a lie.
Gathering my far more rational senses, I shake my head and shift my gaze to the window. “I’m not in the market for love.”
Silence stretches between us before she speaks again. “Why not?”
“I’m enslaved to the Alpha Council for one hundred years, remember? My terms of service forbid me from marrying or owning property or doing much of anything a normal citizen would do. I have no permanent home. I constantly travel from city to city. Furthermore, my job comes with danger. Bringing a lover into my life…she’d only be put in danger too. It isn’t unheard of for a bounty hunter to become the target of someone’s wrath. I’ve hunted down people’s husbands, wives, sons, daughters, friends. Some who were innocent and evading trial for personal reasons. If ever I made an enemy who sought revenge on me, they could hurt someone I loved to punish me. I would never put someone in that position. Ever. As much as it irks me at times that I’m disallowed from having any social or emotional ties, I understand the reasoning behind the rule. Being the Huntsman requires secrecy. Only the fae royals on the Alpha Council know my real name and the details of my past.”
“And me,” she says, drawing my attention back to her. “You told me your name.”
I release a sigh. “I did. Keep it to yourself.”
“All right.” Her scent flutters with something soft and warm, bringing to mind apple blossoms opening beneath a bright ray of sunlight. Could she be pleased that she’s one of the few who knows my name? Her voice takes on a tenuous quality. “So, what about after your term of service is complete? Will you seek love or matrimony then?”
“Doubtful.”
“Why not?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. How the hell did we get on this topic? “I don’t have the best experiences with romance and have no desire to repeat such mistakes again.”
“What kind of mistakes?”
My chest tightens. “Gambling with my heart.”
