Page 10 of His Dark Delights
I didn’t think I’d fall asleep. Not with Ren raptly staring at me from the bed, as if the words on my lips and the story utterly entranced him as it came to life. Sentence by sentence, the soft crackling of the fire and the heaviness in my lids allowed sleep to steal me away into the land of dreams.
A horrid banging sound startled me from sleep asmorning sunlight cascaded into the bedroom. I shot upright in a bed and my head whipped toward the window. Then my eyes flared wider, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized where I was and the time of day.
When did I get into the bed? What was that awful racket outside? Where was Ren?
The angle of the light informed me it was late morning already. My animals needed to be let out to graze. I couldn’t worry about my questions until I’d tended to the farm.
I surged from the bed and raced to my upstairs armoire, ignoring my unused bed in the loft’s corner. More knocking and hammering noises echoed outside as I changed into my pale blue dress, an apron, and shoved my feet into my brown leather boots. My heart ricocheted against my ribs with each solid slam outdoors.
Bursting through the front door, I flew around the cottage. In my rush, I nearly tripped over the chickens already pecking and scratching at the dirt around the garden. A surprised noise leapt off my tongue to see the farm bustling with my animals out and about already.
Millie mooed at me from the fence, pulling me out of my frozen state. I turned my face up when the black and white speckled cow swung her head toward the barn.
Ren balanced on the barn’s roof with a hammer in his hands.
“Oh, gods, what’s he doing? He’s going to reopen his wounds!” I dashed for the gate before breaking to a halt. The sturdiness of the latch knocked the wind from me. Had Ren fixed the gate and lock, too? He must have gotten up early to do all that, and he’d had no reason to.What was a wounded knight doing fixing up my farm?
“Ren! What are you doing up there?” Annoyed, bleating goats scattered from my hurried path. I braced a hand on my brow and shielded my eyes from the blazing morning light. From my angle on the ground, the golden glow wreathed Ren’s frame, making him appear like some sort of sweaty, muscled, panting—er, something.
“Morning, Lilly!” He waved at me from the barn’s roof with the hammer in his hand he’d been making all the noise with. The sunlight emphasized the dazzling smile on his lips.
“What are you doing?” I repeated. Terribly exasperated, and it wasn’t even noon yet.
In one graceful leap, Ren dropped from the roof. He landed safe and sound, boots thudding softly in the dirt. The knight lifted one brawny arm and swiped at the perspiration coating his brows. My eyes followed the shapely bulge of his bicep, and I shifted from foot to foot.
Ren gestured over his shoulder with the hammer at the half-fixed structure. “Repaying you for your kindness. Helping around your farm is the least I can do for you.”
Without meaning to, I stomped my foot and huffed. “Reopening your wounds does not repay me. I demand you put the hammer down. Now.”
His blue eyes swirled with delight at the challenge, and the corner of his lips curved wickedly. “You demand it?” he laughed easily. “No one has demanded anything of me in a very long time, Lilly.”
A haughty statement for a knight to make, noble or not. But this was my farm. I rooted myself firmlyin place, standing tall and strong like an ancient, unmoving oak. Wordlessly, I placed one hand on my hip and pointed to the crate of tools on the ground with the other. As the seconds stretched and I remained as still as stone, Ren’s confidence faltered.
“But I’m not done yet,” he argued, unsatisfied with the progress he got away with. He crossed his arms across his chest, staring down his nose at me.
I jerked my finger as if pointing harder at the tools. “You are not in charge here. On my farm, I am the ruler, and I will give the orders.”
Ren’s dark brows launched up his forehead, and his petulant frown slowly morphed into a wide, obscene smile. He hummed as if tasting words on his tongue before speaking them into existence. “Hm, Queen Lilliana. I quite like the sound of that.”
Despite the ridiculousness of it, a giggle bubbled past my lips. I dropped my arms as I closed my eyes, giggling at the absurdity of the situation. There was a knight on my farm insisting to help regardless of his injuries, and he was making me feel something I hadn’t felt in months—not alone.
“You jest too much, sir.” I’d be nothing important in a kingdom ruled by a butcher of my kind. Though I wouldn’t speak that aloud without confirming Ren’s loyalties.
“I enjoy hearing you laugh,” he shrugged out, but the movement made him wince. His hand smoothed over his ribs where his worst injury bothered him.
My cheeks burned from his statement, but his pain provided a diversion. “See that? You’ve done too much. Go inside. I’ll check your bandages and fix something to eat.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Ren dipped his head, but mischief glimmered in his heady gaze. I remained outside for a moment to collect myself, watching him walk toward the cottage. He must have known my eyes lingered because he flexed his back and rolled his shoulders before vanishing through the front door. Only after several deep breaths, when my heart returned to normal, did I follow.
Ren was already shirtless and sitting on the side of the bed when I joined him. He unwrapped the last bit of bandage from around his waist, and my eyes hurried over his exposed flesh. Every ridge of that sculpted torso was a testament to the wondrous mountain of man and muscle sitting half undressed on my bed.
A ribbon of wanton heat quivered through me at the sight of him. My face flushed again, and my heart ricocheted against my ribs. Pushing myself into the bedroom was a chore for my legs thanks to my wobbly knees.
I collected fresh bandages, then carefully lowered myself on the bed at his side. Ren took up so much space, I wondered how he fit on the mattress at all. When I sat, he pressed his knee into mine. A deliberate move that didn’t go unnoticed by the growing heat in the pit of my belly.
Ren lifted his arm, giving me access to the wound. I noticed how rapidly he was healing. At the current rate, the cut on his side would be nothing more than a puckered scar within the week. I could have made a note of it or said something, but the mounds and grooves of his body and the dark hair along his chest and abdomen wholly entranced me.
As I applied a thin layer of poultice to his ribs, hismuscles tightened under my delicate touch. I sucked in a silent breath of delight at the sight of each contraction and flex. But we were so close, and the room was silent. I was sure he heard the hitch in my breath and the pounding of my heart that his nearness aroused.
