Page 69

The unbuttoned shirt he wore breezed open to display a banquet. The smooth skin. The slender V of his waist. The fluttering pack of his abdomen above the waistband of loose sleep hose.

That grid of muscles. I swear, I’d never cared so much about a compact area in my life. It was the kind of unobstructed view that required stamina I didn’t have.

He stared at me until I realized he’d said something.

I swatted hair from my face. I wiggled upright. I cleared my throat.

I overdid it all. “How long have you been spying on me?”

Because he never lied, I shouldn’t have asked. “Since you began.”

I wanted to die. I hadn’t heard him, not that I would have even if I hadn’t been in the throes of play. This was Aire of the Soundless Gait.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not wish to disturb you.”

Tell that to his shirt. It disturbed me all right, disturbed me in unmentionable places. A soft throb had begun. And my breasts sure as hell didn’t pebble because of a breeze.

I snatched the blanket off the floor and covered myself with it, so that he wouldn’t see my nipples reaching out for him. From what I knew of common flesh, when stimulated my body mimicked certain desires.

“I can leave, if you wish to be alone,” Aire offered.

I considered it, and he saw that I considered it, and he looked...wounded, as though I’d shunned him.

Would that be rude? As rude as his shirt?

I patted the swing beside mine. “Have a seat.”

His face smoothed out as he relaxed, settling onto the seat. I bit my lower lip, mirthful at the sight of this knight perched there. Yet he adapted easily, balancing without needing the ropes.

A lone sword hung from his hip. He’d come prepared.

I should ask about Nicu. I should ask whether Aire liked his treehouse. I should make a comment about the mild twilight weather. I should be polite.

“So did you track my scent or something?” I grilled.

“Sleep evaded me,” he answered. “This place is a legend that I could not resist.”

I rewound my messy bun. “Me, neither.”

“You could not rest?”

“I was too excited. The day ended better than it began.”

He grinned. “You must be elated to have your sidekick back.”

“Don’t take this personally. You make okay company, but nobody can substitute for her or my feather hat.”

“There are some who cannot be replaced.”

On that note, his profile dimmed, telling me enough and hardly anything. I predicted that he’d touch his ring, but I didn’t want to see if I was right.

We grew quiet, listening the creek bubble below and the leaves quiver. It felt natural, as if we didn’t need to fill a void.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the aftereffects of our group sitting around the fire earlier, weariness and full stomachs having loosened our tongues. Maybe the unlikely scene we found ourselves in made impulsiveness seem normal. We’d talked about ourselves, though he hadn’t said much about his past or his present.

“Is your wife...or is your husband...is he or she a knight?” I ventured.

He swallowed. “No, she is not.”