Page 80 of Heart of Winter
When he got his giggles under control, still gasping a little for breath, he skated a look over at Erik and wasn’t prepared for the quiet radiance of his regard, the weight of his pleasure.
Oh, Oliver wanted him so badly that it hurt.
With a deep breath, and then a groan, and a popping of well-used knees, Birger stood. “Well, then, if I can’t talk business, I suppose I’ll be off.”
“Don’t let Magnus run you off,” Erik said.
But Birger waved off the concern, smiling faintly. “No. I want a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.”
Erik sobered. “That it is. Sleep well.”
Birger wished them all a good night, wrapped up in a thick robe, and shuffled around the corner and out of sight.
Lars nudged Magnus in the ribs. “We should be thinking about bed, too. We’ll have to be up before dawn to tail this one.” He nodded toward Erik.
“Your insolence is astounding this evening,” Erik deadpanned.
Magnus groaned, but stood, and the two brothers waded to the steps and climbed up and out of the pool, streaming water.
Belatedly, Oliver realized what was about to happen.
“Wait!”
Magnus glanced over his shoulder, frowning, as he reached for his robe.
“You don’t have to leave. It’s early yet.”
Magnus regarded him a moment, and Oliver thought he might frown – but then his countenance was easy again, and he shrugged on his robe saying, “Dawn comes early enough. We’ll see you tomorrow, Oliver. At the council if not before.”
“Right.” He swallowed. “Goodnight.” He watched them pack up the basket and retreat around the corner, until they were out of sight. And then he stared at the wet tracks they’d left on the stone, because he was alone now with Erik, and if he looked at him, with no witnesses around, all would be lost.
Quiet reigned for a spell, broken only by the gentle lap of water, and the distant plinks and drips from deeper in the caverns. He heard the murmur of voices back toward the entrance, too far to make out any distinct words.
Erik said, “Should I be jealous?”
Pulse thrumming, belly squirming with excitement, knowing he was doomed, but thrilled about it, Oliver turned his head.
Erik sat with his elbows braced behind him on edge of the pool, large hands dangling into the water. His hair lay in wet ribbons down his chest, framing his face; droplets clung to his brows and in his short beard. The torchlight lent his wet skin a high sheen, so that each dip and curve of muscle stood out in stark relief, as if painted. His gaze was piercing, unforgiving.
Oliver wet his lips, and watched Erik’s eyes follow the dart of his tongue. A shiver went down his back. “Jealous how?”
Erik’s head tipped in that maddening way that left him looking out from beneath his brows. “Do you wish it was Magnus here alone with you?”
Oliver would have laughed, if he could have gathered the breath to do so. “If you truly suspect that, I’m not sure you’re competent to serve as king.”
Erik’s responding smile was quick, and sharp – predatory – and gone as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving him open-mouthed, and pink-cheeked, and…hungry. He sat forward, shoulders rolling, arms slipping down into the water; coiled and ready to pounce.
Oliver wanted it so much, but was in such disbelief that it was actually happening, that he lifted a dripping hand and choked out, “Wait.”
Erik waited, settling down lower in the water. His voice was the low, rumbling purr of a hunting cat when he said, “What’s wrong?”
“What’s – what’s wrong?” The laughter came, then, high, and breathless, and unhappy. Almost maniacal. “What’s…in case you’ve forgotten, you are a king. You aretheking of this nation, the one I’m petitioning for an army, and an alliance. And I’m – I’m a bastard. Around here, I amthebastard. And you are a warrior, and I am a bookworm, and we are…”
Erik straightened, and took one gliding step across the pool toward him. His voice was still low, but almost gentle when he said, “Are we going to list one another’s most obvious traits? Because that could take a while.”
Oliver swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. His insides felt full of trapped birds. He was panicking, panicking, and he didn’t know how to stop it, how to reach out, and be honest, without getting in his own way. “I don’t – I don’t–”
Erik took another step.
