“No. At least not in the way you think. Will you do as I ask?”
“Why should I?”
“Because your suspicions are wrong and it would serve nothing but to confuse matters, even delay the men in finding Tom’s real murderer.”
“Am I to say nothing then about the trap being meant for me?” she demanded. “Even if I don’t mention you? Last night you said you did not believe Old Tom was killed by a poacher. Who then?”
“I don’t know, but I believe it would be unwise for you to say anything until we have proof.”
“Isn’t that the job of the authorities?” she asked coolly, watching Rhys carefully. “To find proof, I mean?”
“Yes, of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find it also.”
“You?” she scoffed. “I would say that is very much like asking a cobra to prove his venom is harmless. He simply doesn’t bite anyone for a while.”
“Then you’re safe, aren’t you…for a while.”
The piercing, knowing look he gave Kenna made her blood go cold, then hot. She remembered his kiss and knew her face gave away her thoughts. “Am I?” she challenged weakly, feeling light and off balance.
“Yes, Kenna, you are.” He would have liked to take her in his arms. Instead he pressed for a commitment. “Will you do as I ask?”
Kenna hesitated, feeling his eyes bore into her. There was something faintly pleading in his expression and Kenna called herself every bit a fool for being moved by it. “I’ll do as you asked.”
Rhys felt as if the proverbial weight had been lifted. “You won’t be sorry, Kenna. I promise.”
“That remains to be seen, Rhys. I hope I do not pay with my life for trusting you.”
“Kenna.” He said her name patiently, affectionately. “You never told me why you suspect me in the first place.”
“I thought it was obvious. I’m the only one who knows you killed my father.” She held her breath, waiting for him to breathe fire or walk away from her at the very least. He did neither. In fact, he seemed uncommonly amused.
“You are nothing if not tenacious, m’lady. Hasn’t it occurred to you that though you’ve believed the worst of me for nigh on a decade, no one else believes it? If I thought anyone accepted your story, surely the time to kill you was when you were still a child and unable to protect yourself. I have not the least interest in killing you, save when you try my patience. I came as close to it last night as I ever have.”
Kenna looked away. “You didn’t though,” she said in a low voice. “Instead you…you—”
Rhys took a step closer, an indulgent smile touching the curve of his mouth. “I what?” he teased.
“Kissed me.” She faced him again, tipping her head back to look up at him. His eyes were on her lips. “You kissed me.”
“So I did.” His head bent a little nearer. “As you pointed out minutes ago, you are not a child. I regret turning you over my knee, Kenna. I wished I had kissed you then as I did last night.” Rhys nearly laughed at Kenna’s startled confusion as she considered his statement. “I can see you are having difficulty deciding which action is preferable. Was my kiss so awful?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “No,” she said a moment later.
“You used to be more certain of yourself, sprite.”
His breath was sweet. He was looking at her as she had sometimes dreamed of a man looking at her, dark-eyed and searching. She scarcely noticed the nickname. “You hurt me,” she said.
A shuttered look came over Rhys’s features. “I know. I was rough. I didn’t mean…”
Kenna’s lips parted. It was on the tip of her tongue to say it didn’t matter, but it did. She said nothing.
Rhys watched her lips part, saw her tongue peep up to wet one corner in a nervous gesture. It undid him.
Somewhere in the back of her mind Kenna could hear herself telling Rhys they would not talk again. Ever. And now she was waiting for the touch of his mouth on hers. She could not move away or avert her face. She thought herself weak and hated it. And when his lips met hers she reveled in it.
Rhys made certain this kiss was everything Kenna had a right to expect. His touch was gentle, lightly insistent. He merely tasted her lips, applying only a tentative pressure. Rhys’s hands remained at his side, ready to take Kenna in his arms but not without some sign it was what she wanted. He found it when she leaned into him and touched the back of his hands briefly to find her balance. Rhys pulled Kenna close but held her loosely, one hand cupping her face, the other at the base of her spine.
Kenna felt a certain heady excitement as Rhys deepened the kiss with the probing edge of his tongue. Not only did she not deny his entrance, she met the first stirrings of passion by returning the kiss in kind. It vaguely occurred to her that she was being reckless, even licentious, but she pushed that bit of conscience to the back of her mind. She would do nothing to deny herself the liquid pleasure that was coursing her veins as Rhys gave her a little jerk and pulled her flush to him.
