Page 10 of A Guard and a Gardener

“His Highness will be fine,” I assured him. The pleased little smile on Mathias’ face told me that he didn’t consider what was about to happen to him to be a hardship at all, although I was sure he’d make his husband work for it. “Now let’s make sure you are.”

The way Wyatt’s expression shifted from worried to mischievous made my heart stutter. “In the same way?” he asked coyly, his tongue flicking out across his bottom lip, and I choked on the implication.

“Uh,” I said incoherently, trying to remember what I’d been talking about. “Hands. Wash.”

Wyatt was too positive a person to look dejected, but it was a close thing.

“Right,” he said, spinning on his heel and sashaying over to the tap set into the nearby wall. He waved a hand at a bin and I tossed the remnants of the plant inside before joining him.

The boy had his back to me, the tap gushing water over hands callused by his work in the gardens. I watched as he grabbed a sliver of soap from the little alcove in the stone wall and ran it under his fingernails and across his palms, but when he was still seemingly rinsing it off after over a minute, I began to worry that the contact with the diseased flora had been more concerning than either of the gardeners had made it out to be.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Wyatt asked without turning around, and I jolted when I realised I’d been staring at the way his bare shoulders rippled with the movement of his arms.

Staringanddamn near salivating.

“Sí,” I murmured, and moved in behind him to cage him against the wall, tucking the boy’s head under my chin.

*

Chapter Six

Jiron settled his broad chest against my back. I felt the heat of him through his clothes as he wrapped his arms around me and enclosed my small hands in his huge ones. I loved how calm and kind my giant was as he began to wash my hands between his, paying careful attention to each individual finger. He traced my calluses, cleaned my nails, and as if he somehowknew, stroked a line down that sensitive spot on the inside of my thumb, making me shiver.

He chuckled in my ear, low and soft, and that did dangerous things to the health of my heart.

“Clean enough, little Wyatt?” he asked.

I shook my head, making sure the rest of my body moved with it so I could brush against the full length of him. Jiron took the hint and nestled in even closer, enclosing me in those massive arms that made me feel so safe and secure that I could have fallen asleep right there if I wasn’t so turned on.

“Not nearly enough,” I whispered back, and I hoped I wasn’t imagining the interested little growl that emanated from the man at my back.

I played with his hands in turn, keeping up the pretence ofwashingas I applied similar diligence to ensuring every square inch of his skin was clean. These hands had killed, I knew. Wielded the sword at his hip with deadly precision, snappednecks, torn foes from limb to limb in defence of his king and country. Yet they yielded to my touch, gentle and tender.

Something unexpectedly splashed against my leg and I jumped, only to realise how securely I was caught by the man at my back when all that did was press us closer against each other. Jiron laughed again, a joyous sound I didn’t hear nearly enough, and reached past me to turn off the tap.

Glancing down, I realised we’d been so wrapped up in each other – physically and figuratively – that we hadn’t noticed the ground below the tap flooding. Clods of dirt floated in the murky puddle, the drainage here sufficient for a quick hand washing but not the amount of water we’d been wasting, and I gave the other man a sheepish grin before drying my hands on my trousers.

“Would you like to take a walk?” I prompted. Jiron was so much taller than me that I had to crane my head to see his face when we were standing this close, but I didn’t mind. I liked the huge, solid mass of his body, how comforting a presence it offered, and how he didn’t trip and stumble like I did. But I’d seen him in action – not that he probably knew that, seeing as I’d had to sneak away to the training fields to catch sight of him – and he could be graceful in his movements too. Like a river...or a waterfall. Powerful and unstoppable and magnificent, but also so damn beautiful it took my breath away.

A small frown line formed between his amber eyes and he glanced in the direction Zovisasha had disappeared.

“It’s my lunch break,” I said. It was alittleearly for such things, but I’d make it up to my mistress later. Life was Blessed short, and I wasn’t giving up time with this man for anything.

Jiron returned his gaze to mine and inclined his head into a nod. I liked what I saw in his expression: a kind of hunger that mirrored mine.

“And I’m not working today.”

“I know,” I told him happily.

He blinked, bemused. “How do youknow? Our guard rosters are deliberately randomised to avoid security breaches.”

“I know that too.”

The furrowed brow returned.

“Nothing nefarious,” I promised, realising he was worried about his king’s safety being compromised. “Luis told me your shifts for the week.”

“Luis?” Jiron frowned and muttered something under his breath.

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