Chapter Fifteen
Heather was miserable all throughout the meal. She didn’t know what happened to make Max behave in a way that was so rude and arrogant but it was clear that something had. It came to her that maybe he regretted what had happened between them and she found herself cursing herself for the impulse that had led her to first kiss him and then sleep with him.
When the meal was over, Max rapidly vanished, leaving her sitting there in a small bubble of silence. Christy had vanished earlier that day, off to the picnic with Blake probably. She had not returned before dinner, and it did not seem that she was back yet. Blake was not there either, so they must be together. Loneliness hit, squashing Heather’s spirits flat.
She made her way back to the room and slumped on the sofa; she felt confused and more than just a little bit afraid. Time was very strange there, and it seemed like the day had lasted forever. She wasn’t the least bit tired and yet she was exhausted. Outside the window, though, it was still daylight. The sun still sat high in the sky, and she had no idea what time it was back in her world, but her body seemed to think it was time to lay down.
Her sigh was heavy and heartfelt as she forced herself to her feet and walked to the broad windows that sat on one wall of the room. She opened the window gently and then stuck her head out, letting the wind ruffle her hair and stroke along her face.
Below her, several stories down, was a courtyard of sorts. She watched, fascinated, as several men marched toward each other and drew swords. Her brow crinkled. What was happening? She leaned further out the window, completely caught up in what she was seeing as she realized that one of the men was Max!
The men danced forward, and the swords flashed in the sun. Her breath caught as she realized that they were training, preparing themselves for some kind of battle. Max stopped where he was and lifted a hand, said something, and they reformed the lines that they were in.
A few of the others began to battle as Max called out words she could not make out. The wind tore at her again as she leaned out a little further, the sill digging into her abdomen as she watched the mock battle.
Max raised a hand in the air, and the ones fencing stopped. Max took his shirt off, and the sun rode across his rippling muscles and dark hair. Her heart fluttered, and her inner temperature spiked upward, causing a flash of heat to rise up and flush along her upper thighs.
Her body wriggled forward, and she watched, avidly, as Max and one of the other men began to fight with the swords. The sight, sweat running down Max’s strong and broad chest and the muscles of his arms, made her dizzy, and that heat just kept growing; kept flushing through her.
My God, he was so sexy: so hot. All she wanted to do was run down there to that courtyard and have him, right there in the dirt and with his sweat still coating his skin.
She leaned out just a little further so she could keep watching the action as the men took a few steps back and slightly out of her view.
Her hand scrabbled for support, and she felt herself falling, but it was too late; she could not stop herself—she had no chance at all!
The wind whistled around her head and ears. Her mouth opened in a scream as she hurtled downward, the gown flying up around her body and her hands beating at the air as she grabbed at the nothingness and found nothing but air. Nothing to hold onto. Nothing to save her.
She was going to die!
That scream, ripped from her mouth like someone had reached a hand into her throat and yanked it out of there, echoed through the air and she heard the wind pick up speed as her body plummeted faster and faster, and she knew it was all over. This was it. This was the end of her life.
Then he was there, his front talons grabbing at her, yanking her upward just inches from the ground. The scream reversed itself, shot out of existence then came back again, leaving her voice raw and hurting.
Max’s wing made eddies of dust swirl up, and then they were in the air and flying toward the roof. She lay there, her body curled up against his now, and tears flying down her face. Safety was not something she was used to feeling, but that was just what she felt at that moment. Safe. She felt safe.
Max stood her on the roof. He changed, and his eyes were narrowed. “You…what were you doing? You could have gotten really hurt! Did you just try to jump out of the window?”
She stared at him. Her head shook from side to side. She tottered toward him but then stopped. It was clear that he was angry and with each passing second, she felt more and more stupid for having been so caught up in watching him that she had let herself fall right out of a window. She got out, “No. I was watching you.” Her eyes itched with the need to cry. She swallowed hard. “I just leaned out too far. I wasn’t thinking, and I had never seen anything like that before either. I was interested.”
That was an understatement. The biggest one she had likely ever made.
Max looked at her and then away. His jaw worked, and a muscle jumped in there. His voice was harsh. “You could have died.”
“I know. I thought I was going to. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Her whole body felt raw and strange, like she had somehow gone too heavy or something. She didn’t know what else to say to him. “I know you’re busy and distracted and the last thing you have time to do is rescue a woman dumb enough to fall out of a window in your castle.”
His lips pursed. His eyes, shadowed and holding an expression she could not quite decipher, met hers squarely. “You saw Orcs yesterday when you arrived?”
She noticed he did not say after he had left her and the others. “Yeah. They’re really ugly. Why?”
His hands rested on his lean hips, drawing her attention there and to the bulge at the front of his trousers. She could see the firm and plump mound below the material and all her desire kicked into high gear. She looked away, fast.
He said, “Because they were not supposed to be there. They were infringing on our territory. Blake told me they were there, and I believe him…”
“Then why are you asking me?” She was honestly confused by that query of his, especially if he believed that Blake had been telling the truth.
“Because I may need you to tell those who don’t truly think Blake was being honest. Many don’t trust him, and I can’t say that they don’t have a reason not to.”
Heather wrapped her arms around her waist, wishing that it was his arms around her. “Okay.”
