Page 51 of Vengeance Becomes Her

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When Rhiannon woke, her head was throbbing, her eyes were swollen, and her entire body felt tight and sore from all the tension she had been holding onto. The night before rushed back to her and she wished she could hide under the covers all day. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.

She turned over slowly, hoping not to wake Tristain so she had more time to sort through her thoughts and recover some of her pride.

He was still sleeping, his face relaxed, blankets wrapped all the way up to his neck, his mouth slightly slack. He looked so at peace, she wanted to brush the hair off his forehead, but more than that, she wished she could curl up in his arms. But that would never happen. She shook the thoughts from her head, threatening them not to return. The last thing she needed was to be pining after someone who could never be hers.

When she returned from the washroom, Tristain was awake. There was a sleepy smile on his face and his hair was tousled from tossing and turning on the chair that was most definitely not large enough for someone his size to sleep comfortably.

A laugh slipped out of her at the sight.

“Good morning.” His voice was cheerful, none of the awkwardness she had expected after last night.

She was relieved and grateful he was willing to move past her erratic behavior. “Good morning. I hope you were able to get some sleep. I know it couldn’t have been very comfortable. Thank you, again, for everything.”

The bright morning sun came in through the curtains she forgot to close, forcing Tristain to squint while he looked at her. Thestreams of sunlight kissed him in all the spots she wished she could. That was the second time in her life she’d been jealous of the sun.

She cleared her throat. “What do you have planned today?” She tried to infuse normalcy in her voice, but it still shook slightly. She cursed herself for it. Tristain had merely slept in the same room as her and she felt more nervous than she had forher first kiss.

She’d gotten carried away with her anxieties not hearing him when he answered. He was standing in front of her, waving his hand across her line of sight. “You alright?” He chuckled, giving her a questioning look.

“Sorry, my mind is a little distracted—must be all the wine.” She shrugged it off. “Should we head up to get breakfast?” She realized he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, or pants for that matter.

“Maybe you should getdressed first?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but he obliged. She could hear the buckling of his trousers and the swish of his tunic as he pulled it on and a part of her wished she wasn’t so adamant about staying away from him. It would be so easy to take it all off and get lost in the day, forgetting all her problems.

Instead, she focused on studying her reflection, brushing the remaining tangles from her hair. She felt much more like herself now that her hair was dark again. She looked so much more alive. Although that may be due in part to the flush on her cheeks from trying to forget that Tristain was just standing half naked in the same room as her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said over her shoulder.

Rhiannon jumped in surprise as her eyes flicked up. He was standing behind her watching her in the reflection. She took in his expression. His pupils were blown wide and his lips were slightly parted. She could feel the heat radiating off his body that was now mere inches from her back. She was frozen in a heady mixture of fear and anticipation.

“You’ve never been one to shy away from a compliment,” he mused.

She could now feel his breath on the curve of her neck as he took a step closer. Their eyes locked in the mirror. She watched as his eyes flicked down, running down the entirety of her body, as if taking inventory of every curve. Slowly, they ran their course all the way back up until they met her burning gaze. She relished the warmth of phantom fingertips gliding over her skin, chills of desire erupting across her flesh in their wake. The pure lust in his eyes made her throat go dry. She swallowed hard. After so many heated moments of tense anticipation, the smirk that appeared on his lips was the match that finally ignited the fire between them.

She could feel her body betray her before her mind caught up.

He responded as soon as her fingers wove their way into his thick dark hair, his hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the thick rolls of her waist. Their lips met, teeth clashing just slightly at their fervor.

He was breathless when he pulled away. “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded. All she wanted was to keep kissing him.

He grabbed her chin, just tightly enough to make it a command as he forced her to meet his darkened gaze.

“I need you to say it. I need you to tell me that you want this.”

“Yes, I want this. I want you. Now.” Her voice rasped with desire as she struggled to find her breath.

With her permission, he pressed his lips to hers once again and this time he didn’t hold back. One hand reached around her waist, the other gripped the back of her neck, pulling her flush against him.

She opened her lips to him, his tongue caressing hers like the richest velvet. She couldn’t resist biting his lip. It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood but enough to communicate how badly she wanted this.

He let out a low groan and wrapped his arms around her thighs, hoisting her up onto the dresser like she weighed nothing. A small laugh of surprise escaped her lips.

She squeezed her thighs around his hips, anchoring herself in place. Her hands moved quickly against his soft, lightly defined torso as they made their ascent over his chest, the dusting of hair tickling her fingers. She leaned back allowing her eyes to roam over his body for a moment, luxuriating in the ability to truly look at him without hiding her desire. He was tall and wide, bulk that wasn’t all brawn and bulging muscles. She loved the contrast of soft contours and lightly defined muscle that made up his figure. His large arms were toned from years of bearing the weight of a sword but there was still softness to them. She ran her fingertips reverently over the fine lines that adorned his skin that must have rushed to keep up with the growth of his body.

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