“A local one to Gramenia, Einarr Strom.” He sent pulses of water to cleanse his hair.
“Fitting.”
“Thank you. Are you going to cut that charade?” Isahn shook his head out like a dog, splashing water all around the room.
George wiped droplets from her cheek and narrowed her eyes.
“Come on, you look like my sister. It’s weird.”
A bubble of laughter burst from her little mouth, and with it came a vision of space, of flying through the stars.
He grinned and wrung out his cleaned clothing with magic, sending a spray twenty times the size of the one he’d shaken off his head sailing across the room.
The space mirage vanished as quickly as it had come, and Isahn found himself standing, shackled, before one woman. Not a guard, but thetruePrincess Georgetta of Domos. She was dripping wet.
His stupid heart stuttered.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. Something about the beauty mark on her cheek, the frizz escaping her top knot, and a million other tiny details told Isahn this wasn’t more of her vision magic.
Coily black hair was piled on her head in a decidedly un-princess-like manner. Spirals fled and flew out in every direction, some soggy and clinging to her cheeks. Her lips were plump and pillowy. Frustration shimmered in her eyes, a deep burnt umber, a shade darker than her skin. George was smaller in stature than he’d expected, but by no means tiny. Her smooth skin was brown like clay, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was as soft and pliable—she sure looked it, with her hourglass figure and wide, luscious hips.
Oh, my gods.
“Why should I trust you?” She perched a hand on one soggy hip, further emphasizing the curve of her waist. Her fingers squelched against the wet fabric of her robe and she grimaced.
“Because I think my uncle is working for the King of Domos, and I need to find out the truth.”
She stared at him as she tugged at the knot belting her mantle.
“I can dry that for you, if you’d like.”
Glancing down at her robe and back up at him, she yanked herself free of the thing. “Sure. I hate the texture.” She unabashedly tossed the offending fabric into a heap on the floor.
Isahn blinked slowly at the sight of her and dried her discarded robe, turning the damp to vapor in an instant, but neither of them really noticed.
She wore anextremelylow-cut, slinky gown in a style he'd never seen before. It was more of a shirt and skirt than a full dress. The nearly translucent top pulled taut across her large breasts. Little sheer sleeves puffed around her upper arms. The bodice stopped not far below her breasts and connected to her skirts with only a few crisscrossing ribbons along her sides. The skirt wassheer, and with the flames flickering behind her, Isahncould clearly see her shapely legs, silhouetted in full. A tiny triangle of light shone through at the apex of her thighs.
He swallowed with a groan. “What the fates are you wearing? Is this a normal Domossan style?”
Her eyes flicked down to her barely covered chest and back up to Isahn. “No.” The princess smirked. “I had plans.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, before you rudely called me out for being... me.”
He nodded slowly, wishing he’d held his tongue about knowing her identity. His gaze dropped down the length of her again, sliding over each delicious curve as he went. “I think we should probably stop this captor-captive game. What do you say?” Isahn turned his back to the princess and wiggled the fingers of his bound hands. “We could work together, if you’d like?”
“I’ll pass. Turn around and face me,” she commanded. “I prefer my men under my control.”
Isahn did as she asked and leaned languidly against the wall. “I can work with that.”
One of her brows shot up as she used her magic to hold him in place, this time not painfully. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely.” Isahn pushed forth two cords of his water, heated to perfection. They spilled through the air and wrapped around behind the princess in a hug. With his magic clasped around her waist, he tugged her gently toward him. She took several steps of her own volition, only halfheartedly resisting his pull.
Finally, she gasped, her gaze sharpening. “What are you doing!? I’ll scream for backup.” She took two more steps his way.
“There’s no backup. I know everyone’s out,” Isahn rumbled.
