Page 29 of The Stolen Bride

He stood, tugging me up with him, and ushered me to the tent. An astonishingly cozy space with a full-size pallet of blankets that offered a soft cushion far better than the hard ground. The violin waited in the corner.

But. Um. Only one bed, not separate sleeping bags? I might as well be the heroine in a fated mates, enemies to lovers romance novel. “Remember our golden rules,” I said. “No falling in love with me or making a move.” I toed off my boots. “I’ll stay on my side. You stay on yours.” I didn’t want to play right now. Or talk. I just wanted to sleep. But new cracks of thunder caused even the ground to vibrate, and I swiped out my arm at record speed to link my fingers with his. “For your peace of mind, we’ll hold hands so you can be sure I’m not running away.” Nervous laugh. “You gotta be well rested for our journey and the battle with Deco, amirite.”

Gold rings flickered in Viktor’s eyes. He yanked me against him and enfolded me in an almost crushing but amazing embrace. “You’ll face down a camp of berserkers without flinching, but a little rain makes you tremble? You know I’m here, ja? I will allow nothing untoward to happen to you.”

Okay, so, his incredulity wasn’t my favorite. “You might be immortal, but you can’t control the weather.” Raindrops hit the tent, sounding like pops of gunfire, and I squeaked. “If you’ve never seen a semi-truck being spun in a dark, twisting funnel of chaos, you don’t get to judge my overreaction. By the way, I’m not afraid of anything. I don’t do fear. This is…reluctance. There’s a difference.”

Brighter flashes of lightning electrified the air, raising the fine hairs on my body as he positioned me on the pallet. He stretched out beside me, slid an arm under my neck, and crooked his fingers under my chin to lift my face. “I will hold you like this all night long, making sure you don’t fly away, but I, too, insist you make no moves.”

I snorted internally, which jostled sore muscles. There was no stopping my outer wince.

“Is that a hint for another massage?” he asked, his tone conversational, even pleasant.

“No, of course not.” But another massage did sound amazing. “Yes. No,” I repeated and heaved a second sigh. “Your question borders on a move.” And I wasn’t exactly unwelcoming at the moment, truth be told. He just, he felt so good, pressed so close. And he hadn’t retreated into madness a single time during this conversation. Or mentioned Valkara.

“I won’t allow you to keep your emotions at bay, so I’m not your type. I get it.” His dry tone grated my every nerve. “You’re not my type, either.”

Ouch. That stung, considering I was perhaps, maybe, possibly, the tiniest little bit attracted to him. But it was purely physical, so no big deal. “Just out of curiosity, because I’m nosy, what is the Valkara like? Since sheisyour type.”

“She’s exceptional.”

I waited, but he offered nothing more. “That’s it? All you’ve got?” I winced for him. “Your passion for her is extreme.”

A scowl darkened his countenance. “Do you want the massage or not? Because if you prefer to suffer during tomorrow’s ride, I’ll let you.”

“Let’s say I agree.” We’d been side by side for roughly two weeks, and he’d never harmed me. Today, we’d ridden and rubbed together for hours, and he hadn’t touched anything he shouldn’t. Part of me might…trust him. Ugh. What a terrible realization. “Will you take it as a sign that I’m falling for your charms?”

“I have charms?” He toyed with the ends of my hair, an absent-minded action I enjoyed a little too much. “In return for my extreme generosity, you will play me three songstomorrow. One to pay for today, one to pay for tomorrow, and one to pay for my efforts.”

Of course he demanded another song. “Fine. Deal,” I grumbled, rolling to my side to give him better access to my back.

With a quick, smooth motion, he rolled me the rest of the way, onto my stomach.

My insides performed somersaults. Relying on him to rescue my sisterandprotect me from the storm must be doing strange things to my brain; I should have said no to this. But. Come on! Clearly, he wanted this more than I did. So. You’re welcome.

With a nudge of his knees, he parted my legs. My breath caught. Too intimate? He crouched between the V he’d created. Even more intimate! My lips formed an O, a protest brewing…until his fingers pressed into the backs of my thighs.

He worked his magic, the ensuing pleasure-pain wrenching groans of surrender from the deepest parts of my being. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. That was good. Magnificent!

“I will play you the best song ever,” I vowed.

Once he’d kneaded my thighs into pudding, he shifted his sublime efforts to my calves. My feet. Then my back. My hips. I forgot all about the storm that raged outside, whipping against our tent.

Problem was, I considered things I shouldn’t.

How good his touch felt.

Other places on my body he might explore.

Ways to assuage the ache growing inside me.

“You like this.” The guttural thickness of his voice registered, and I shivered. “You likeme.”

I did. Far more than I should. A fleetingsentiment based on our circumstances, but oh. Oh! He worked out a knot. “In my defense, this is so, so good.” Tension drained from muscles that had been overworked for years.

“I know,” he rasped, both words containing thousands of nuances, sending new shivers racing down my spine.

“Why do you care if I like you or not?” Hemustlike me too.

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