Page 53 of A Wayward Movement

“Yes, you always hated early mornings, didn’t you?” Xavier said conversationally. He studied the sleeping mats rolled up under the table. “Although it seems your new companions are very early risers. We’ve already established that the fair, innocent Lilah is downstairs. Where’s the brother?”

“Benji’s running a letter to the post service for the farmer he’s been working for,” Alina said. Her shoes were on now, but she hadn’t risen, just leaning back on her hands and looking at him. “I don’t know if he’ll stop home again before leaving for the day’s work.”

Xavier came to a stop in another doorway on the far side of the small living space. It was a bedroom, neat and orderly, with flowers on the windowsill, and an embroidered cushion on the single chair. He strode forward again, running a finger along the basin currently standing empty on a scrubbed board.

“You know,” Alina had appeared in the doorway, her expression long-suffering, “it’s not polite manners for a man to enter a lady’s sleeping room.”

“True enough in my world, but court etiquette seems a little out of place here,” Xavier pointed out. “Maybe you relinquished the right to that kind of consideration when you chose to plummet into a different class of society rather than call on your friends for help.”

Alina narrowed her eyes at him. “Or maybe my right to that kind of consideration is inherent, and follows me regardless of my social status or financial circumstances.”

He smiled, as appreciative of her spirit as he’d always been. “You’re absolutely right, of course.”

He moved away from the doorway, dipping his head so that it passed close to her ear as he walked past, and dropping his voice to a murmur.

“But my theory is more fun.”

“For you, maybe,” Alina shot back, imperfectly hiding the breathlessness in her voice, and the goosebumps on the place just below her ear where his breath had brushed.

He gave a low, throaty chuckle, and watched as a ripple passed over her.

“You’ll get me kicked out by my landlady if you carry on like that.” Alina complained.

“Ah yes, I’ve been scolded already by Mrs. Pincer,” Xavier said with a less provocative smile. “Her heroism was inspiring, basically chastising a prince to his face. She seems protective of you.”

Alina sighed. “Something tells me I don’t want to know exactly what she said. I believe she thinks I’m in danger of succumbing to your famous gallantry, but she should really know me better.”

“So you’re in no danger from me?” Xavier asked. “That’s a blow to my pride.”

Alina smiled faintly. “I don’t think either of us is in great danger. As you’ve just referenced, you have a preferred style in women. And I don’t match it at all.”

“Ah, but…” Xavier lifted a strand of dark hair which had come loose from her braid. “What if my preference for golden curls is an attempt to forget a different kind of beauty?”

Alina stilled, and Xavier felt his heart thump erratically at the look on her face. He was trying to affect her, but the impact on him was a reminder of how risky this pursuit was. It was a dangerous game, using hints of truth in his efforts to captivate Alina. But you didn’t win a wager by holding your best cards back and never using them.

“Please stop being ridiculous,” Alina said, her eyes fixed determinedly on his tunic while she gathered herself. Once steeled, she raised her gaze to his, her smile returned. “I suppose you can’t help yourself, but for pity’s sake, turn the charm off for a moment, purely for the sake of efficiency. How else will we have a serious conversation?”

“Must we? Serious doesn’t suit me,” Xavier complained. “It’s my most unflattering angle.”

Alina’s laugh seemed to escape without her permission, the sound lifting Xavier’s heart with a stab of remembered joy that was so intertwined with longing it hurt. Every time she met his charm with that familiar laugh, or her sunny smile, it was a balm to his soul. He knew well how easily she could have decided to respond to his overblown flirtation with anger or offense, but instead she gave every sign of enjoying it. It was an encouraging sign in his private campaign to prove something to both her and himself.

“I’ve missed making you laugh.” His voice was low as his eyes roamed over her face. “It used to be my favorite pastime.”

Alina was once again lost for words, caught in his gaze. Right where he wanted her. She sucked in her bottom lip, the gesture drawing his eyes.

The door into the apartment opened with a bang that made Alina jump and even Xavier start a little. He looked over, his expression mild as he took in the fuming young man before him.

“Benji, I believe?” he said in a pleasant voice.

“Your Highness,” said the teenager stiffly, jerking forward in a semblance of a bow. The moment he rose, his eyes flew to Xavier’s companion. “Alina, can I have a word, please?”

“Later, Benji,” Alina said soothingly. “I have to leave for the desert now.”

“I don’t think you should go,” Benji said stubbornly. “At least not in present company.”

“Benji.” There was a warning in Alina’s voice, her eyes flitting anxiously to Xavier’s face.

He wanted to laugh at her. Did she think he would be offended by Benji’s disapproval? Couldn’t she guess how much experience he had with jealous peers?