Page 7 of Healer to the Ash King
“Good, you’re here,” he says, with barely a glance at me. “Let’s get to it.”
I’m not sure whether to kneel or not, so just in case I sink to my knees, with the blue skirts crumpling and bunching around me. I don’t bow, but I keep my head bent a little as I watch the King.
He rises, pulling off the black shirt over his head. With all the layers on his body earlier, it was hard to tell how broad or fit he was. My mouth goes dry and earthy as his torso is revealed—satiny muscle, smooth and sculpted, from his powerful shoulders and swelling pectorals to the planes of his stomach and the angled ridges of his hips.
Why is he undressing?
“Do you need healing, Your Majesty?” I ask.
He looks at me, frowning slightly. “No.”
“Then, why—” I clear my throat, willing myself to be respectful. “How may I serve you?”
“Not on your knees,” he says, unbuttoning his black pants. “Though it’s good to know you are willing. No, I’ll have you on the bed, I think.”
I look up at the Ash King, shock searing along my nerves. “What?”
His frown deepens as he takes in my expression. “I thought you knew why you were called here.”
“I thought I was summoned to—to answer your questions, or to have my magic tested—”
“This late at night?” He arches an eyebrow. “I called you for sex. Why else would a king summon a woman to his quarters at this hour?”
“I—forgive me, my lord, I did not understand.”
He sits down on the bench again, his pants half undone and his elbows propped on his knees. I still have to look up at him, but he’s closer to eye level.
“You did not understand,” he repeats. “The glances you’ve been giving me, the smiles, the taunting—I thought you were amenable to this.”
Heartsfire—he thought I was trying to seduce him? I’m so stunned I can’t reply.
“Are you denying your king?” he says, a note of impatience in his voice.
The image of him crushing that fireball flashes through my mind. I dare not refuse him too rudely. “I’m just surprised, my lord. You’re in the same house as one of the Favored—a lady you prefer, by all accounts. Why would Your Majesty not call for her?”
“I cannot bed one of the Favored before the Calling,” he says. “It would not be fair to the others. And it’s not as if I’m married, or even promised. I’m free to seek distraction where I please. And who said I prefer Teagan?”
“People,” I say vaguely.
“People say a lot of things about me,” he replies.
I have no idea how I am going to get out of this without offending him and getting myself soundly scorched. Maybe I can reason him out of it. “Don’t kings usually have women bathed and shaved and scented before deigning to bed them?”
“I’m not difficult to please,” he says. “And you look well-groomed enough, now that you’re not covered in dirt.”
“Oh, but they only washed my arms and legs,” I say quickly. “I’m very dirty in other places.”
And then my face flames. Because I said that. To the Ash King.
Again his dark eyes spark orange, and this time there’s the barest quiver at the corner of his mouth. I have the strangest urge to coax that quiver into a smile.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and my heart jolts. “And you’re amusing. I want you.”
“If I say no, are you going to burn me?” I whisper.
“If I answer yes to that question, will you still refuse me?”
I gnaw my bottom lip. He’s handsome, no denying it, with a body most men would envy and most women would crave. His pants are unbuttoned so far it’s dangerous, and I can see the outline of his arousal through the taut fabric. But he’s a stranger. He’s theAsh King, and he frightens me. I don’t want him touching me, or putting himself inside me—the thought makes me shiver.
