Page 8 of The Time Of Kings (An Afterlife Story #1)

7

CLEAN ME OF MY SINS

“ I s this really necessary?” I asked, tugging on the tasselled curtain tieback that Draven had used to bind my wrists to the chair I was currently attached to. In his defence, this was after I had tried to escape twice more since he carried me back in here the first time. Something he had surprisingly found more amusing than annoying. And once again, I had a feeling that this was the most fun he’d had in years. In fact, I had to bite my lip a few times, coming close to asking, ‘what, no golden shackles this time?’

Thankfully, I was restrained enough to not go there, emphasis on the word, ‘restrained’.

“I believe we both know the answer to that question,” he replied after walking back from the next room and finding me struggling against my ties. A room I assumed was his bathroom of sorts, as I wasn’t exactly expecting shiny taps and efficient plumbing here.

I assumed he had left his jacket in the bathroom, as it was now covered in mud due to his manhandling of me when attaching me to this chair. Of course, this was Draven we were talking about. Which meant he had used brute strength while at the same time being careful enough not to hurt the very breakable human woman. One who had been trying to fight him like a hissing cat cornered by a hungry wolf.

So yeah, that meant that dirtying up that expensive, pristine looking jacket and smearing that smug expression of his with mud. Something he must have cleaned by splashing water over his skin as the hair around his face looked slightly damp. Oh, and he was

currently rolling up the sleeves of his bellowing white shirt and awarding me sight of those strong, muscular forearms of his. But no matter how sexy a sight it was, I couldn’t help but blurt out,

“You’re not bathing me

He folded his arms in front of me and stated,

“Am I not?”

“You’re damn straight… I… I have rights, you know,” I replied, making him smirk in a dangerously handsome way.

“Rights you forfeited the moment you entered into a life of crime.”

I snorted a laugh and tried to ignore his obvious amusement at hearing this very unladylike sound coming from me. Instead I muttered,

“Hardly.”

“I think you will find burglary a very serious crime,” he replied, causing me to first make a choking sound before arguing,

“Now just wait a darn minute, who said anything about burglary?!” I asked in outrage.

“Did you or did you not enter into another person’s home uninvited…? Twice, I might add,” he stated, making me jerk against the twisted silken thread. One that didn’t bite into my skin thanks to my long sleeves he had purposely tucked under when tying me up. Forever the gentleman and all.

“Twice? How do you figure that exactly?” I asked and, again, he looked like he was having a lot of fun at my expense.

“Pray tell me, did I or did I not find you hiding under my bed?”

My mouth dropped but because I was incapable of finding a quick enough response to this, it closed and then reopened again. Much to his amusement.

“But you had me kidnapped!” I shouted in outrage that fell on deaf and stubborn ears.

“No, I had you apprehended and as Lord of these lands, I take the crimes against my people very seriously,” he stated calmly, making me argue,

“But I didn’t steal anything.” At this he shrugged his shoulders and told me,

“The interruption of a crime does not disprove the criminal intent.”

I swear my eyes bulged at this and he only seemed to be growing increasingly more entertained by my reactions to this one-man trial he had me facing.

“What! That’s… that’s…” Okay so, I didn’t know what this was other than being totally unfair, prompting me to say,

“So, if a person raises a fist in anger but doesn’t ever use it on another, does that mean their punishment should be the same as someone who attacks another?”

He leaned his shoulder against the post of his bed and smirked at me with his arms still folded.

“I think you will find you are being treated vastly different to another I would punish for the same crime,” he pointed out, making me rattle the chair I was tied to, as clearly, he needed reminding of his version of fair ‘treatment’. However, when he said nothing to this, I snapped the mocking question,

“Yeah, and why is that, because you have a thing for blondes?!”

My retort was definitely one that made him lose his smirk pretty quickly, telling me that I had gone too far in pushing him.

“Enough!” he barked, making me jump before he was storming over to me. Then the second he pulled the dagger from the sheath at his side, it caused me to flinch back… well as much as I was able to when tied to a chair.

However, when he saw my fearful reaction, he took pause, freezing in his movements. This before then looking down at the blade in his hand like he was only just now realising why I would react this way. Then he released a frustrated sigh before speaking.

“Be at ease, for I have no intention of hurting you… I merely wish to free you,” he told me in a softer tone, giving me cause enough to relax my tense shoulders.

Then I nodded down at the blade, as if reminding him where it had been recently and why I had reacted that way. He got the hint, as he looked first to my neck and then down at the blade in his hand again. He released another sigh before placing it back in its sheath. Then he bent to one knee and untied me in a less threatening way with his fingers working the knots free.

“Thank you,” I uttered quietly, causing him to look to my face and our eyes locked in one of those untamed, intimate ways. The type where both parties knew they were only seconds away from ending the silent battle with a kiss. Which was why I was the first to break eye contact, giving up the possibility of what could have happened between us.

Although, with him seemingly intent on bathing me, then I wasn’t sure just how long that would last for. A few more smouldering looks like that and I would be a woman in love, lost to the man of my eternal dreams. Especially when he scooped me out of the chair and once again had me in his arms, carrying me towards a bath.

“I have legs, you know,” I told him, feeling the ache in my heart increase, knowing it was only yesterday that I had reminded my true husband of this fact.

“Yes, for I have knowledge of this… along with how efficient they are in running,” he replied, making me sigh before giving up and instead focusing on the new room. One that in today’s standards didn’t really look like a bathroom at all. But more like another lavish space found in a castle that had a bathtub placed in the centre of it. There was a wooden throne looking chair that I was praying was some type of toilet, because if there was one thing I had never gotten used to during my time traveling trip to the past, it was pissing in a pot. And well, we are not even going to think about the second thing they are needed for… eww.

Hence the other reason why I really needed privacy here, because I had admittedly been holding onto my need to pee for at least thirty minutes. As for the rest of the room, it was dark wood panelling with landscape oil paintings decorating the walls and mirroring the views seen from the high arched windows. A gold, gilded, ornate mirror hung over what would have been used as a sink. One with a painted porcelain bowl inset into the tabletop against the wall. In fact, the mirror reminded me so much of the one in our bathroom in Afterlife, it once again had me feeling home sick.

I forced my eyes from it, and instead focused on the copper tub with steam rising from the water. Everything certainly looked ready for me, along with folded linen sheets and a glorious bar of soap. A sight that made me slip up and comment before I could stop myself.

“Well at least there’s soap, this time.”

“Do you usually bathe without it?” he asked, making me realise my mistake.

“Er I… I mean, well not every inn has soap, does it?” I stated, hoping I was right, as naturally I had no clue.

“Especially those that have burnt to the ground and are missing a roof,” he replied teasingly, making me nearly choke on a breath after he reminded me of my first mistake. Oh, who was I kidding here? I had lost count of my mistakes so far. The first being when I ran into the castle instead of continuing to hide in the mud until nightfall.

“Er yeah,” I replied nervously as he lowered my feet to the ground without giving me the space I desperately needed right now. Especially with the way his large hands rested at my waist and purposely stayed there.

“I’m not…” I paused to swallow down yet another hard lump labelled fear before continuing on. “I’m really not a criminal.”

He raised a brow down at me, making me release a sigh before adding bitterly, “Despite what you think of me.”

“I think it wise for you not to know of my inner thoughts of you at this moment,” he replied, his voice taking on a deeper tone and causing me to take a quick breath before braving to ask,

“And why is that?”

He took one long leisurely look down at me, scanning my body with clear intent, despite it being marred with mud and anything but sexy. However, contrary to this belief, he was soon adding words to his heated gaze.

“Because most would consider them not only to be improper for a gentleman but mainly… sinful,” he whispered this last word by my ear as he had started to gather up my top, all while getting closer. Then before I had chance to respond, he shocked me by lifting my long sleeve shirt up and over my head. However, the shock quickly switched to him as now he was staring down at my black satin bra, as if he had only ever seen such a garment back in his Persian days. Back when the girls in his harem wore very little for his pleasure.

“This… I have never seen such… such undergarments,” he stammered, having to pause to clear his voice, and I had to look down so as he wouldn’t see my satisfied grin. Because damn, it still felt good knowing that I could render him near speechless. But then I did feel as if I needed to give him an explanation of sorts, so I told him what I think he knew as being obvious.

“I’m not from around here,” I said, making him clear his voice again.

“No, indeed not,” he said, his voice sounding strained and thick, at the same time his fingertips began to skim the edge of the lace that scalloped around the arch of satin. Satin that my breasts were near spilling from with every heavy breath I took. My ample cleavage was rising as if on its own accord to the beat of his own wishes it seemed.

Especially when he started to lower his lips to my own and suddenly all thoughts of why I should not be doing this vanished. Just like they had done that first time I kissed a Persian King. However, my stomach chose that moment to rumble, and it was enough to break the spell I had on him. He pulled back abruptly before his lips made contact.

Something that was enough to cause him to take an abrupt step away from me. As if I had myself uttered the word no, when in fact my whole body had been screaming yes! But whatever reality had hit him in that moment, clearly it was enough to shake him from what he had wanted to do only a few heartbeats ago.

“I will leave you now to bathe… in private,” he told me, his voice again strained, and this time for a different reason as he denied himself what he wanted. Something that made me suddenly feel vulnerable enough to cross my arms over my near naked chest and nod in return. Because right in this second, I didn’t trust myself to speak from fear of what I may say. The irrational hurt no doubt would have laced my tone and just made the moment more confusing for him.

He watched this and it became apparent that I wasn’t the only one that wore a pained expression. However, he was quicker than I was to recover from it, shaking himself back to his stern countenance and reminding me,

“Assuming you still cannot sprout wings and fly away, I am to remind you that the doors will remain locked in my absence, so it is a fruitless endeavour on your part should you think to try to escape again.”

I frowned and because I was hurt by his quick change of heart about me, I told him in an acrimonious tone,

“And I would expect nothing less from a jailor who has already condemned me of my sins.”

His frown deepened before he said, “Yes, just as guilt is fuelled by lies spoken, and the counterbalance to this is the innocence gained with the truths that are told.”

With this, he quickly turned on his heel and left, firmly closing the door behind him with a slam, making me jump.

Which left me to feel as though this was an ancient past I was being forced to live through once more.

Of course, now all I could ask myself was…

Would my heart survive a second round?