I nodded. “Okay.”
He set the boots by the rack, neat. Three long strides brought him to the pool.
He sat on the side still clothed, and slid in.
“Will your pants dry in time?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Your trousers. They’re wet. They…” I flushed. I shouldn’t be babbling.
“Probably. It’s warm here.” He stood in the water, the dark shimmer lapping around his waist.
I sunk deeper, found a seat on a step. “I promised the woman I would brush out my hair.” I couldn’t look at him. Why was I bringing up the peasant woman?
“She was concerned for you.”
I shrugged. “She was kind.” I started unwinding my braids. Thea’s comb tugged, heavy in my hand. I glanced at him. He wasstill standing there, watching me. I slipped under the water for a moment, set the comb on the step farthest from him, before I popped back up.
He sat down on the step. “Do you want help with your hair?”
“I can do it,” I said, my throat tightening a little.
“I know.” He watched.
I worked the braids loose, set to combing them through with my fingers. This was ridiculous. He was waiting for me to finish with my hair. I was going to make him impatient instead of just getting to it while he was being pleasant. But…I glanced at him, at rest there, his eyes still on me. It was hard to imagine Khal being unpleasant; if he was kind to Vrathgar, maybe he just stayed kind all the time. Maybe if I made him impatient the worst that would happen was rougher sex. And I could recover from that. It stopped hurting a day after the first time.
I finished a single braid down my back.
“It suits you,” he said.
“I could change it, if you like.”
“You don’t need to.”
I breathed deep, trying to steel myself. Should I wait for him to move, or should I…but he was still wearing pants. Was this a power trip, on his side? To be the one who didn’t reveal himself? It didn’t help to think about it, I should just…
“Did you want to have sex?” I’d blurted it out. He stared at me. No, this wasn’t the cat and mouse game men wanted, I shouldn’t-
He sighed, looked away. “I always want you, Rowena.” His body language belied that, but my mind was too scrambled to know what to do. I moved closer, along the step. He was sitting higher than I was, and should I…no, no overthinking. I pushed myself farther up out of the water, sat beside him, chill air across my chest.
“Alright,” I said, “So we?—"
“Rowena,” he said. “I want you. But I don’t trust you.”
I blinked. I was sitting entirely unclothed in the water next to him, and he was saying he didn’t trust me. “Oh.”
“It’s not....I’m sorry, Rowena, I can explain—" I stared at him. His face twisted in regret. “It’s not…I’m not expecting you to stab me, it’s that…I don’t trust you to…speak up for yourself.”
I was spun, moving too slow. I couldn't follow, just stared at him, waiting.
"Your feet," he said. "You walked on them till they bled. I've done that, once. I know that hurt. But you didn’t…you didn't speak. If you were hurting or afraid, I’m not sure that you would tell me. I can’t…I can’t let you hurt yourself because you think it’s what I want. Do you understand?”
I nodded, automatically, but no, not really, I didn't. "I see," I said, and that was the wrong thing, what would he want? Was he waiting for me to reassure him, or put on some act, or-
“I'm sorry. It's not for forever. I promise," he said. He looked down at the water. His shoulders were tight. "When I know that you're ready to tell me no, then…I will ask you to say yes.”
I let myself look at him. His lashes were dark. There was something elegant in the arc of his nose, a sensual fullness in his mouth. With some of the tension taken away, I could enjoy looking at him, the way his hair brushed the top of his ears, how they just barely came to points. "You're a good man," I whispered. "A peculiarly good one."
