Page 106 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“I have to wash you now,” he said. “In reverence of your initiating a sacred bond.”

Argos pushed the straps of Theora’s silk nightgown off her shoulders. She reached to cover her naked breasts as he slid it down her body, but then quickly abandoned the idea to grip her fists at her sides. She ignored the dull pain of his hands rubbing over her sore muscles and focused on the part that she couldn’t quite make sense of. Sex was one thing—pleasure took over, blinding one to reality. But, in reality, she had never been touched this way. To be touched on a clothed shoulder or hand was intimate enough. But this…she wasn’t prepared for this. She wanted it…she liked it. She just wasn’t prepared for how it would feel.

How it would make her feel.

And now, as Argos washed her body with the fragrant water, speaking a prayer over her as he went, Theora found herself having to force back the urge to cry. It shouldn’t have mattered, since he had seen her in a much more vulnerable state than this…but crying over a ritual felt silly.

A ritual was an act. Something performed, not felt. It wasn’t personal.

And yet, as he rubbed the oil into her skin, she felt tears glide down her cheeks. His hands were strong, his touch firm but gentle. Comforting. Loving.

She let out a trembling gasp as her husband’s lips pressed against the scar above her hip, abandoning her stubborn closed fists to grip his hair, running her fingers along his scalp.

“The herbs are strong,” she lied, wiping her eyes quickly when Argos finally stood to look at her.

He held her face and kissed the top of her head with one last prayer, and Theora finally broke, sobs shaking her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his warmth, her tears mingling with the oil.

For a moment, all she could do was cry as he held her.

“Warrior rituals remind me of you,” she said when she could finally bring herself to speak. “Passionate. Heartfelt. Sometimes dangerous…” She looked up at him, her glasses smudged, but still clear enough to see his grin. “Beautiful.”

“Now you’re getting it…” Argos leaned down and kissed her, and Theora could’ve cried all over again. It was such an incredible feeling to be truly loved.

She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, so that when he carried her to the bed and laid her down, he had no choice but to lie beside her.

Theora chuckled. “You know, it’s actually hard to believe that I was afraid of you the day we met.”

“I know you were,” Argos said with a bit of a cringe. “I’m sorry.”

She ran her fingers over his scalp. “I’m not scared anymore. But I thought you were going to kill me that day.”

“Sorry,” he murmured again, saluting her.

“I don’t blame you.” She returned the salute. “Although, it wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d cleaned up a little after your hunt. There was blood everywhere.”

Argos raised an eyebrow. “Blood?”

“It was two weeks ago and you don’t remember? You looked like you had just torn someone’s heart out with your mouth.”

A silly grin slipped to his lips, and then he laughed. It was a beautiful, soothing sound—despite all the pain he’d been through over his life, he knew how to laugh better than Theora did.

Even so, she found herself scowling, an embarrassed blush burning her cheeks. “What’s so funny?”

“It wasn’t blood,” he said, trying to recover from his laughter. “It was battle paint.”

“Battle paint?” She blinked at him. “Are you kidding? It looked just like blood.”

“I wanted to scare you, and it worked.”

She pulled away from his touch and snatched a pillow from the bed, slamming down her wrath on his head. “You absolute ass!”

She slapped him on the head until she was laughing, too, and then threw the pillow away and hugged his head to her body, rocking back and forth. “I adore you, you know that?” she murmured to the top of his head. And then she tilted his face up and kissed him. “No more secrets?”

He nodded.

“Good. Let’s not keep anything from each other ever again.”

Argos shifted, wrapping his arm around Theora from behind and pulling her into his chest. “I love that marriage smell,” he murmured.