“Why not? I’m still in your employ.” His lip tipped up in mild amusement at the vehemence on her face, though he didn’t dare move. After all, the blade was near touching his neck and recently sharpened from the looks of it. “And can you put that thing down?” He pulled back a fraction of an inch. “I thought you liked knives, not swords.”
“I do. I’m best with a dagger and cloak, especially when I use the one my father gave me, but we practice other things.” She closed the gap he’d created, this time allowing the steel to rest right against his flesh so he could no longer swallow.
“‘We’?” he asked, his eyes darting around in case she had some sort of army to whom he’d never been introduced. He wouldn’t put it past her; she really was like a medieval lord in her thinking, probably would’ve dug a moat if it were feasible and in fashion.
“Pena and I. Tonight was sword sparring.” Her hands didn’t even shake as she held the blade. “Two-hand grip.” She indicated her bare, firm hands with her chin. “It’s my weakest because of size, but I’ve come a long way.”
“I’m sure . . .” Nope, not frightening at all. “Though again, I’d prefer it not to be at my neck.” However, for some reason it was also alluring, especially as her hair billowed, framing her face, poised and calm yet strong. Oy. And now he was warm. More than warm.
“It’s a good thing I had an inkling that you might make an appearance. Cook and I made sure everyone would sleep rather soundly, as your skills in stealth leave something to be desired. Honestly, you splash louder than a gaggle of waterfowl.” With a sigh of her own, she obliged, lowering her weapon and sheathing it at her side, the belting now pulling her gown tight against her body. His mouth went dry as a hundred inappropriate thoughts sparked, not the least of which involved her yanking that gown over her head so he could get an even better view.
“I never claimed stealth as a skill.” He glanced down at his boots so as not to stare at all the things he shouldn’t stare at. “My chief talent—other than scrubbing and sweeping—is storytelling. But only children find me entertaining.”
“That’s not true. I enjoy listening to you very much. And you have other skills. Including gathering information. Something we have in common. After all, my family has made a fortune gathering information to make predictions of disastrous outcomes and put values on those probabilities.” Isabelle twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
“Huh.” He cocked his head at her. Interesting. And logical, which seemed quite a good fit for Miss Lira.
His heart squeezed. That one twist of fate. That one small thing. If not for that, her life would be so much easier. Though they’d have never met. And they wouldn’t have been in the library together and certainly would not be here now. And while she’d be better off in the other scenario, he couldn’t help but be glad for the present.
“At least you’re clever enough to understand that you do need a partner, that you cannot lead alone.” He waved a dismissive hand as he backed toward the edge of the fountain.
“Yes, even Moses had help.” Isabelle shrugged again.
“And you’re upgrading—trading Miriam and Aaron for Solomon,” he joked, even if it hurt.
“I can only hope this iteration has half the wisdom of the original.” She gave him a half smile. “With more fidelity,” she added with a sniff worthy of a monarch.
And yet the way she searched his face for a reaction to her dry bravado twisted his innards even tighter.
“I do think Weiss could most certainly make a worthy second for you,” he said, hating the words, even if they were objectively true.
“Hopefully. If he’ll accept my terms.” She tangled the ends of her black waves around her fingers, pulling and tugging and twirling. Aaron worked not to sigh as his foolish mind conjured images of that same hair trailing across his bare chest as she kissed downward. That would not happen. She was not for him. He closed his eyes and instead forced himself to picture the other man smirking at him, ring in his hand.
“He will.” Aaron ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. Digging his heels into the back of his boots, he willed himself to look her in the eye. “You are the only one he wants to marry.”
“I know.” She folded her arms tight. “And I know why. What he wants from it. What it will give him—money for his brother, freedom to chart his own path, not mere access to the community, but near guaranteed leadership.” She bit her lip. “But I worry he’s too loyal to himself and to his own family and will never be truly loyal to the company. Will never love it. Though if he actually loved sureties, I’d be worried too. I don’t believe Weiss is particularly good at sharing. Not that I am either.” She shook her head, giving him a rueful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But I think the business is a means to an end for him, so he should agree to my dominion.”
“You should tell him.” He sat himself on the edge of the fountain as he’d done before.
“What?” She pursed her lips.
“You should explain all this to Weiss—not just the boundaries of what you want, but the rationale and the stakes and fears. Show him all of who you are. So he can fully know you. And fall in love with you.” Because how could anyone not, once they saw the full her?
And she deserved love, even if she refused to see it. Even if it was with Weiss.
“You’ve been reading too many romantic stories. Or I’ve grown too cynical.” She moved toward him but didn’t sit, just stood at the edge of his knees, so close that a light gust of wind would sweep her gown against his trousers. “Or more, perhaps because I can’t picture being satisfied with what I was offering if I stood in his shoes. And I’d grow to resent, not love me.”
“Resent you? How?” He raised both eyebrows, even as his breath hitched in his throat.
“I don’t know.” She toyed with another lock of hair. “Perhaps ‘resent’ is too strong of a word. Still, I believe you were right the other day. As was my grandmother—though if you tell her I said that, I will deny it a hundred times over.” She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But if we are being truly honest, if my back wasn’t to a wall, if I had his flexibility, I’d want more than any of my plans encompass. I’d want to win it all, and my bargain will never offer that.” She sniffed, her fingers trailing down her side to her sheath. “I like winning, in case you couldn’t tell. Witch, remember? A witch with a sword that I very much know how to use.”
“In defense or offense?” Not that he couldn’t guess from the confidence in her stance.
“In both.” Her chest rose. “And I may be all practice and theoretical knowledge, but would you really want to test my actual mettle in either?”
No, most certainly not. Though, because all his sense apparently left him when he was around the woman, a shivery, shimmery thrill slid down his spine as he gazed at her.
“Is it wrong that I appreciate how Weiss keeps his ambitions on the surface like I do?” She stroked the hilt of her weapon absently. Aaron swallowed but spread his legs apart, welcoming her to step forward despite the danger, despite the fact they were still discussing another man. Yes, there was most certainly something wrong with him when it came to her.
