Show no pain. Let no one see me break.
Just like his father.
They said that Daven had died laughing in the face of his enemies as they gutted him on the field of battle. That was how Kalder wanted to go.
Forever strong.
Trying not to think about that, Kalder rubbed his hand over his forehead and focused on his brother. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Then, I’ll get you something.” He left him on the bunk, and headed for the galley at the other end of the ship.
Kalder hadn’t gone far before he ran into Cameron beneath the cramped decks as she made her way toward the women’s quarters.
Awkward silence hung between them while he searched desperately for something to say. This should be easy, given all the conversations he’d had with her in his mind during the weeks they’d been apart. All he’d done was dream of her while he’d been in hell.
Dreams of her, alone, had kept him sane. Had given him comfort in the utter madness of their bitterest torment. She was the only succor he’d known during their cruelest punishments. And the sole thing about this world that he’d missed. He’d called himself all kinds of a fool for that weakness. Yet he couldn’t help it.
Cameron had become his one and only talisman for sanity.
All he had to do was remember the way she looked at him—as she did right now—and they could do their worst to his body. None of it mattered. None of it compared to these feelings she stirred within him. For in her eyes, he was worthy.
Heroic.
Desired and special.
When she looked at him, she didn’t see a sorry piece of shit. And that was why he couldn’t embrace her. Why he dared not ever sully her with his touch. Because she was such a fine and decent noble lady and not meant for the grubby likes of him.
With a kind and gentle smile, she held her hand out toward him and opened it. “’Tis your brother’s necklace, Mr. Dupree. I’m thinking you’ll want to return it to him now that he’s back.”
Honestly, he’d rather she keep it. Had it been his, he would have insisted. She had so very little that belonged to her personally, and she deserved beautiful things. Things much more valuable than that bit of silver in her palm. ’Twas a pity her brother hadn’t provided better for her, as he should. Truth was, it angered him that Paden had forced her to dress as a lad, instead of bathing her in the finest silks and every dainty lace and toiletry that women preferred. Indeed, he’d seen the way her gaze would sometimes linger on Lady Marcelina’s gowns. Not with envy, but with aching hunger that said she’d like to have something so feminine to call her own.
Or how her hand would idly play with the fine velvet of Belle’s and Sancha’s gowns whenever they stood close to her. Though Cameron never said a word in complaint or jealousy, it was obvious that she liked such luxuries and would love to have them on her own body. And he would like very much to see her dressed in such finery. No doubt she’d outshine them all with her graceful beauty.
Yet that necklace had been sacred to Muerig, so he was honor-bound to see it back to his brother. “Thank you.”
Her cheeks turned a bright pink as she stepped nearer to him and set the piece in his hand. The heat of her flesh seared him and sent a fissure up his arm that electrified his body and left him hard and aching with a needful hunger, especially when her sweet scent filled his senses.
Cameron gave him that sweet, precious smile that was uniquely hers. Damn, but she had a way of looking at him that was indefinable. Her hand lingered on his. “I missed you, Mr. Dupree. Glad I am to have you back, safe and sound, where you belong.”
“I’m sure he’s glad to be back.”
He glanced past her shoulder to see her brother eyeing them again with his condemning censure, and he wanted to punch the irritating bastard for it. As if Paden judged his sister and found her lacking in morals or character. And that made his anger rise. Not so much that Paden was suspicious of him—he had every right to be, as Kalder’s thoughts were truly salacious in nature where the lady was concerned. He wouldn’t deny how much she tempted him. But Paden should never doubt the virtue of a woman as refined and noble, as damnably decent, as Cameron.
So, in deference to her, he decided to set the bastard back a bit with his words, instead of his fists. “Not really. Rather, I like being beat upon. Makes me feel alive. Keeps the circulation going. You know?”
Cameron choked on a laugh at Paden’s shocked expression over Kalder’s unexpected retort. That was the one thing about the Myrcian. He seldom reacted the way anyone anticipated.
Inanygiven situation.
And with that, he pushed his way past them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have me brother to see to.”
Cameron’s heart sank at the curtness of his tone and the underlying hurt it betrayed. And it angered her that her own brother had caused it.
“You shouldn’t antagonize him so, Paddy. Especially given what we owe him.”
“I don’t care for the way he looks at you.”
