Page 26

I could feel his smile, could sense his amused gaze watching me.

It made me angrier.

“How did you enjoy the community meal?” The question was casual enough.

But it poked at several sore spots. I was the outsider, the one who didn’t belong. When Evangelia told me that the whole village gathered to eat once a month, I thought it would be a good chance to really see the inner workings of this mob. While they didn’t look at me like a prisoner, there was no doubt that I was an outsider. Even their friendliness made that metaphoricalline in the sand clear. Granted, no one said anything about their organization, but it didn’t matter.

And then Iosif had to go and spoil the day completely.

“The food was good,” I clipped out.

“It always is.”

“Why weren’t you there?” I demanded.

Markos moved past me to stand at the sink. The water ran hot, but he plunged soapy hands under it as if he didn’t feel the temperature. To grab the towel, he had to move beside me. He took his time. The heat from his body warmed me. I found myself smelling the sea on his skin.

“I was in the city.”

His answer snapped me back to the present. “What for?”

“Aren’t you just brim-full of questions,” he teased, reaching around me to the cupboard over my head.

Caged against his body, surrounded by his scent, I bristled. “Questions? I have one. Why haven’t you let me go? I’ve been here for days with no answers as to when I can leave.”

Markos set the glass on the counter next to me. His warm breath brushed against my skin, making me shiver. “You know too much.”

“I know nothing!” I protested.

Those strong fingers tapped against my chin. Once, twice—three times!

“That’s not quite true, is it, prinkípissa?” It was the salacious chuckle lacing his words that sent me over the edge.

“It is! I just want to go home, and since you insist on preventing me, I can only assume the worst.”

With impossibly quick speed, Markos shot forward. He captured my chin in a firm grip. At the same time, I darted for a knife.

“Now, now, prinkípissa,” he tsked, snatching my wrist. “No need to make things unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant.Unpleasant!” I fumed and tried to angle the blade toward him. “They whispered about you kidnapping a different girl to be married. The day I was kidnapped, someone said something about a bride with a bruised face. You stole me on purpose! On accident because I was the wrong one, but still! Me being freed was never part of the plan.”

Why was I talking about this? I should be confronting him about Iosif and the insanity of us being married!

Markos’s touch hardened to the point of pain. He leaned forward and hissed against the shell of my ear, “See? You know too much.”

So I did the only logical thing. I cracked my skull against his.

Only, the headbutt didn’t have even the slightest effect on the stony mammoth.

“How did that feel?” he chuckled.

I jerked, thrashing and tugging. “Turn me loose! Turn me loose, you monster.”

“Monster,” he mused. “That’s not very nice.”

“If the shoe...fits!” I pulled back, breathing hard. He was too close, too warm. Too masculine. I couldn’t see him well, but I didn’t need to, because Ifelthim. His presence overwhelmed me. The instinct to melt into him, to bring him even closer, warred with every rational thought.

“Oh, I didn’t say it wasn’t true, I just said it wasn’t nice.”