Page 72 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“Bad trip all around,” I quip.
She scoffs. “Consider your prisoner’s position.”
I unfortunately consider her in positions I shouldn’t.
Why hasn’t my Heat abated? Mother told me it would be days’ long at most, and now it’s been almost two weeks. I can’t stop craving her, needing her, and every moment I don’t take her is a testament to my vast patience.
“So, do we have enough for a bath?” she asks.
I pat my pocket where the other six gold sit. We still need to buy a tent and supplies for the four weeks’ trek inland, and a mount of some kind would be best, but I doubt what’s left could get us anything. We’ll need to stay in town tonight and then be on our way tomorrow.
In the other pocket I have her earrings and three rings. It was good Reina decided to dress up for the event, giving me more than enough to trade with.
“Yes, we do,” I say.
“Thank the gods,” she breathes.
“You can thank me. I’m the one getting you the bath.”
“No doubt with my stolen goods.” She glares at me. “I will not thank you. You’re the cause of all this.”
That’s true, but I don’t like it. I want her to be grateful. I crave her approval.Please, just look at me with affection.
Fuck. Maybe I am moody.
“And when are you going to tell me—”
I clamp my hand over her mouth. “Hush.”
She bites me again, but I’m so used to it that I can’t help but adore the attention. Her eyes glow as we stare one another down.
I lean in over her shoulder. “I told you to save that for the bedroom, sunshine.”
She grumbles something behind my hand that sounds a lot like “vulgar” and “bastard,” which makes me smile. She doesn’t call anyone else vulgar bastard. Just me.
What a pathetic thing to be excited about.
My hand falls to her waist as we watch the massive port grow on the horizon. The Illyan town of Alvara is a large, bustling center of activity. Thousands of Men live here, and thousands more visit every month to drop goods and take ships to elsewhere. It’s the farthest northern port in Illya, and a good city to get lost in. I spent years here in my younger days when I’d become a Man out of necessity, for survival.
“What are you thinking?” Reina whispers, her hand clutching mine on her side.
My chest constricts as I realize she’s scared. Of course she is. Reina wasn’t allowed to leave the palace. She wasn’t trained or educated in other cultures and their languages. She’s going to be depending on me to get us through this.
And I will.
“I’m thinking about your bath later this evening. Maybe I’ll help scrub your back with the sponge this time.”
“Tsch, you wish,” she says boldly, but her voice still carries a note of concern.
I squeeze her fingers gently and she squeezes back. My heart bursts with hope and possibilities. Maybe when she hears my side, she won’t detest me. Maybe she’ll want to help me.
Maybe she’ll want to be mine.
“Really, though,” she says. “What’s going through your mind?”
“Where I can sell your earrings. If we can get enough supplies for several weeks’ trek inland with the proceeds. What we’ll eat without fresh fish, because I know the inland rivers are sparsely populated this time of year. If we’ll be late…”
She looks up at me. “Late?”
