Page 88 of A Storm in Every Heart
I jog after him, my face still burning. “Exactly. Once. So, we never really need to talk about this again, and it’s not appropriate for you to bathe alongside me.”
“Appropriate or not, it’s happening. Or, you could do the smart thing and deal with being dirty for one more night. Up to you, Princess.”
I grind my teeth. As usual, he backed me into a corner without even trying. I’m stubborn, but so is Kastian, and I know he’ll never give up and walk away.
There’s probably a greater meaning in there somewhere, but I refuse to acknowledge it.
“Fine,” I growl. “Whatever, just don’t look at me and stay over there.” I point vaguely down the river.
I realize how absurd I’m being—it’s so dark I doubt he can see where I’m pointing, so there’s hardly any point in telling him not to look at me, but I can’t seem to make myself think rationally at the moment.
“Whatever you want,” he grumbles, and I hear his footsteps moving several feet away from me. “But don’t expect me to go too far. I’m not leaving you alone again.”
My heart skips a beat, but I force myself to ignore it.
That is, until I hear the unmistakable sound of Kastian unbuckling his belt and shucking off his clothing. My cheeks burn.
I shake my head trying to clear it, and walk a few yards further away before peeling off my own ruined clothes.
My dress hangs in grimy tatters, stained with mud and grime, and I doubt it can be salvaged. Underneath, my stockingsare torn, the fabric frayed and clinging to my legs like cobwebs. My bloomers are no better, marked with dirt and dampness, and my corset feels stiff with sweat and debris.
I hesitate, fingers hovering over the laces of the corset, knowing that once I unlatch it, it might be impossible to put back on without help. My chest is too heavy to comfortably go without it, and the unpleasant thought of walking around without support until we reach a town flits across my mind. Even so, the lure of feeling clean is stronger. I pull off the corset and drop it on top of all my other clothes, leaving me completely naked aside from the darkness.
Even though I can’t see him, I can feel Kastian’s burning gaze on me as I finally step into the water. The bottom of the river feels slimy under my feet, and the water isn’t as deep or as cold as I would like. Still, anything is a relief after the disgusting brig and the humid walk through the swamp.
I wade deeper, but even at its deepest point, the river only comes up to my waist. I blush realizing that Kastian is so much taller than me it might not even cover his hips.
I sink low, dunking my shoulders, and quickly scrub the dirt from my skin and hair. I move automatically, unable to focus on what I’m doing when I can hear Kastian’s breathing and the sound of the water moving around him.
We don’t speak, but the silence and the sounds of the swamp only heighten my awareness of him. The tension is so thick it feels palpable, like I could reach out and touch whatever is crackling in the air between us. Every inch of my skin tingles, and my muscles feel too tight, too alert.
“So, you’ve been in this swamp before?” Kastian asks. His question cuts into the tension, but provides no real relief. His tone is casual, and he sounds like he’s a respectable distance away, but I still stiffen.
“Mmmm?” I hum a noncommittal sound that doesn’t really mean yes or no.
“You said you traveled this way with Daemon and Beatrix when Thorne was courting my sister.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I knew I messed up by mentioning that earlier, and that Kastian isn’t oblivious enough to have missed it. Now what the hell am I supposed to say? I can’t exactly tell him I lied before. That sounds crazy, and he wouldn’t believe me, anyway.
“Yes,” I say stiffly. “I did.”
“I don’t remember that,” he says, his voice sounding slightly closer now.
Of course he doesn’t. That’s the entire point.
“Oh, well, I’m sure you were busy. I don’t know why you’d remember me when we never met.”
“I feel like I would remember you. I can’t imagine not noticing you.”
I stiffen. He sounds closer than I’d thought he was, and I’m not sure which of us drifted nearer to each other. I have a sinking suspicion that it was me, and I plant my feet firmly, refusing to give in to whatever my traitorous body has in mind when my head is screaming that this is all far too dangerous.
“See?” I blurt out, desperate to change the subject. “You were wrong. There’s nothing dangerous in the water.”
He snorts. “I wouldn’t say that, but you’re right that I haven’t spotted any crocodiles.”
