Page 89 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“Ohksano’amai.”
A low-pitched trill vibrates in Jasper’s chest and through my entire being.
“Say it again,” he rumbles.
“Tell me what it means, and I will,” I whisper in a shaky voice.
He groans seductively. “Isn’t it more fun when it’s a mystery?”
The fire in my heart gutters and dies. I roll to the side and look up at him. “You promised to tell me everything.”
The heat in his gaze evaporates. “I did. And I don’t like breaking my promises.”
“So don’t,” I say.
He lifts one of his legs and lets me get out from under him. I sit up, keeping my attention on him. I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore, not on anything. I’ve had too much darkness in my life already. Jasper can’t be that, too. I need him to be my light.
He drops his chin and rubs the worry lines on his forehead. “What if I make a new promise?”
“Jasper,” I say in a warning tone.
“Please, Rei, I’m not ready to tell you this one yet,” he says, giving me a desperate look. I keep quiet and let him continue. “You’re not ready to hear it, either. Just wait until we take care of things down south, and then on the way home, I’ll tell you. I swear on my life.”
The way he sayshomeso casually, like my kingdom is already where he belongs, makes my heart squeeze and my stomach flip. This arrangement is just beneficial for us. Despite the desire we’re undeniably feeling for one another, this engagement is just something he finds acceptable for the safety of his people. It’s not real.
Right?
Whatever those words mean, it’s so important to him that he’ll promise on his life to wait to tell me. I believe him, though, that I’m not ready. I know it means something important, and I’m not ready to be important…not to him. I’m just a weapon. A tool. And that’s something I know how to be.
I lean forward and plant my hands on his knees, getting in real close as my magic glows under my skin and heats my palms. “If you don’t tell me the moment we’re back from our venture south, I will turn you to ash.”
He swallows hard, his gaze bouncing to my lips then back to my eyes. “You won’t need to.”
I flip around and sit in front of him. “I still have at least five minutes left of a massage.”
He huffs in amusement and his hands come back to my shoulders. His touch doesn’t give me the same sensation as before. It’s kind, and wonderful, but not arousing. It makes me wonder if maybe there could be more than just a marriage of convenience between us one day.
Jasper’s hands squeeze my shoulders one more time before his hands slide down my back. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you,” I whisper, swallowing down my juvenile thoughts. He craves my body, he’s made that very clear, but that’s all. I busy myself with organizing my pack while Jasper gets our dinner ready.
“Your cheese sandwich, my lady,” he says, handing over a bit of cheese smashed between two slices of bread.
I take it without complaint, as promised, and bite into it. There’s a sweet tang that’s definitely not the bread, or cheese—at least I hope it isn’t. I peel apart the slices to see a smear of orange marmalade on one side.
“What’s this?” I ask, knowing full well what it is.
“Oh, just something I traded for,” he says, waving away the question nonchalantly.
I see through his false modesty, though. He knows he’s done something good. He can tell by the smile that’s crept onto my face.
“What did you trade?”
He shrugs. “Just a dance or two with a widow. She saw me the night before and said she wanted to be twirled like that.”
A fiery retort rips up my throat, but I douse it on my tongue. “What a good use of your skills.”
“So, you’re not upset then, wife?” he asks with a shit-eating grin.
