Page 13 of The Time Of Kings

“That’s quite alright, I will have a bath at the… erm… place I am staying.”

His look said it all, especially when it came with another sexy smirk…damn him.

“The place you are staying?” he asked, finally taking the hint and dropping his arms enough for me put some space between us.

“Yes, it has four walls and a roof and everything,” I argued, and he grinned at my banter.

“Hmm, sounds very well equipped indeed, but pray tell me, this dwelling in which you are staying… what is its name?”

I paused my struggling and hoped my expression wasn’t one of panic, like I feared it was.

“Erm… its name?” I asked, once more trying to edge towards the door. A door he seemed in no great hurry to let me out of, I might add.

“So as I may call on you like a gentleman,” he suggested, making my brain scramble to think.

“I am staying at the inn,” I said like this was some grand statement.

“The inn?” he asked, as if calling me on my bullshit was the most fun he’d had in decades. This made me question if there even was an inn around here? Well, I had come this far, so there was no backing out of my lies.

“Yes, the inn.”

“And which inn might that be?” he asked, pressing for more as my hand started to reach behind me and grasp the handle in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

“The inn in the town,” I said, silently praying that he would give up the damn bone and leave it be at that. Of course, no such luck, as clearly Draven wanted it spelling out.

“And its name?” he inquired, making me shake my head a little before telling him,

“Oh, I forget.”

“I see… and this inn in which you found lodging in, pray tell, how long have you been there?”

I shook my head again and pushed the hair from my face, wiping some of the dirt up my cheek.

“A few days,” I replied, despite feeling as if I was being led into a trap or something.

“Hmm, I see… the same inn that caught fire three weeks past and is still without those promised four walls and roof in which you speak… that inn, you say?” he asked, calling my bluff, and my answer to this was to laugh nervously before quickly tugging on the handle and trying to make a run for it.

Surprisingly, I actually made it halfway down the long hallway before I felt my body being swept up into his arms. I cried out the second my feet lost the floor before I was promptly carried back to his room with me screaming for him to let me go. The screaming not only didn’t deter him, but it didn’t even phasehim. Not even when he saw a maid stop dead in her tracks and stare at us both in horror.

“You there, fetch some warm water for my bath…” he said, turning towards his door and finishing his sentence while looking down at me. Soon telling me exactly what he had planned for his unsuccessful runaway…

“…Ihave an untruthful little prisoner to clean.”

7

CLEAN ME OF MY SINS

“Is 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 whileat 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,

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