“Why?”
“Indulge me this once,” he said, his voice velvet-dipped steel. “And I’ll try not to ask again.”
I was supposed to be tempted, but he sounded like he was the one being undone.
His hand tightened on my hip as if he wasn’t sure he could let go.
When his cheek brushed my temple, I stilled. My heart stuttered. He smelled like cedar and spice. Danger, barely held in check.
“I’ll break your nose,” I said, even as my fingers curled into the front of his tunic.
“You’ve threatened that before,” he murmured. “Yet here I am, nose intact.” His arms curved tighter around my waist. “You’re the only one I’d let close enough to try.”
This wasn’t smugness but surrender, said so fast I almost missed it.
I looked up at his mouth too close. Too kissable. Too familiar from my dreams. My breath caught somewhere between wanting to shove him away and wanting to stay exactly where I was.
I remained in his lap, though I did not allow myself to lean against his warm body.
“See?” he said, his voice a lazy rasp against my ear. “This isn’t bad, is it?”
I shot him a scowl. “If you were anyone else, you’d be moaning about a split lip by now.”
“If I was anyone else, I’d be moaning for a completely different reason.”
“Stop it.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Stop what?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Actually, I’m not quite sure. Do enlighten me.”
“You’re trying to irritate me,” I said.
“Am I?” His chest lifted and released with a jagged sigh. “And here I’d thought I was trying to have a polite conversation with you.”
“We don’t do polite conversation.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
“Because you hate me.”
His gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth. “I’m feeling anything but hatred. Do you truly feel hate for me, minxpip?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Alright.” He smirked. “I’ll call you minx instead.”
“Not that either.”
“Would you prefer LadyBarlowe?”
“I’m not a lady. I’m a warrior. A villager from up north.”
“Deepwood is west of the castle.”
“I’m not good with directions.”
