Page 193 of Forcing Fate

“Who?”

“The barmaid, Bitsy?” I grimaced in the dark, hating the fact that I was bringing her back up to his memory. I didn’t want him to think about her.

He heaved a sigh. “Why do you want to know, Vy?”

“Just curious.”

“Liar.”

I peeked down at him, his silhouette faintly illuminated by the coals from the stove in the corner. “Well?” I prompted.

“Tell me why you want to know.”

“I’m curious.”

“So you’ve said.”

I laid back and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps, under cover of darkness, it wouldn’t be as bad to be open with him. He was my Rafe today, not the gruff General of his Tennan.

“I want to know what you think is pretty,” I choked out.

There was a pause.

“You want to know what I think is pretty? Me? Not men?” His tone took on a strange edge.

“Aye,” I whispered, blinking against the darkness, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t push me away.

There was a groan and a thump and I rolled over to see him put his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling as well, his silver eye glinting in the weak light. Returning to my back, I waited.

“I think strength is… pretty—attractive,” he paused. “Tenacity. Determination. Perseverance.”

“What about women?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think women are pretty?” Perhaps I had read him wrong this whole time.

“Aye, Vy. I think some women are pretty,” he drawled.

“What are… pretty attributes of women you like?” I scrunched up my face at my question. I was acting like a total child.

Silence prevailed.

“You want to know what makes me want to bed a woman?” His voice was rough in the darkness.

“Aye,” I breathed, still holding my eyes shut and clenching my fists.

He groaned, and there was a rustle of fabric. I peeked over the side of the cot to see that he had brought his knees up and was rubbing his face with his palms.

“You play a dangerous game, kitten,” he warned, his voice muffled.

I laid back, cheeks flaming. “I know.”

“I don’t have a type. I haven’t been back to the homelands since I was seventeen-winters. I hadn’t had the chance to explore that realm,” he sighed. “I think I would like someone who didn’t run from me.”

“Hmm?” I encouraged.

“Women always think they want some big strong man to care for them. They forget big strong men come with big strong attitudes. Every time I’ve told a woman to do something, they shrink away like a whipped puppy and run. If one ever dared to defy me, I’d find that attractive,” he finished.

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