Page 89 of White Horse Black Nights

Her eyes flash hotter. “No.”

I can’t stop my eyes from sliding down her short hair, softened with a braid along the front, to her fine leather riding boots. I swallow hard. “You look well. Has Rian been keeping his hands to himself?”

I wince as soon as the words come out.Stupid, Wolf. Stupid. I bent over backward to make this girl hate me, the last thing I need is for her to know how fucking jealous I am.

Her eyebrows rise at the bold question. “Can’t you tell?” Her voice is edged like a blade. “Can’t youscenthim on me? Do I smell like fresh sex?”

My groin tightens at the same time that my jealousy combusts my skin into fire. She’s needling me. I know she is. My sense of smell isn’t so dulled that I would miss the telltale scent if theyhadfucked. But even knowing this, I suck my teeth, fighting to calm the wave of covetousness that rolls through me.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had taken you,” I answer evenly. “He’s certainly wanted you long enough.”

Her mask of anger slips long enough to show confusion. “What do you mean? He ignored me the first time we met. The only reason he wants to marry me is because it’s more likely I’ll give him a godkissed child.”

A bitter laugh tears out of me. “Are you serious? You believe that? He came back from Bremcote last year with fire in his eyes. He knew he wanted to marry you the second he saw you. It didn’t have a thing to do with your godkiss. Fuck, he plotted for months to entrap your father in debts so he’d have no choice but to give you to him.”

Her eyes widen—she didn’t know that her father didn’t fall into debt by his stupidity alone. But then her pretty brows furrow. “But Rian never showed any—”

“He runs a gambling empire, Sabine. He knows how to hold his cards closely.”

She goes quiet. The silence stretches between us, only broken by the sound of shovels at the far end of the stable, and the stomp of horses in their stalls. All the fight goes out of me as I bask in her gorgeous presence. What I would give for one more day with her love instead of her hate. I’d find a way to snare the stars and put them on her dinner plate.

Something shoves me from behind, and I stumble forward with a curse. Before I know it, I collide with Sabine, our bodies pushed together. My hands secure her waist on instinct to keep us both on our feet. Her soft curves graze against my harder edges. Her scent bathes me like exotic oils. I feel the beat of her pulse, once so familiar to me that I fell asleep to its soft patters.

I look around to find Myst’s head between the bars. That crazy mare pushed me!

I swear that goddamn horse is smiling.

“Sabine . . . My lady . . . . Forgive me.” With apologies on my lips, I extricate myself from Sabine. It’s so damn hard to let her go. I’d forgotten how perfectly she fit into my arms, like she’s my world and I’m her gravity.

“No, no, it’s alright.” She’s too flustered to berate me as she brushes the wrinkles out of her gown.

It’s at that awkward moment when Rian walks into the stable.

The breath dissipates from my lungs. I’m instantly a paragon of control—not a lovesick drunk at all, oh no—as I give him a tight nod.

“Wolf.” His voice lifts in surprise. “I thought you’d be in the forest.”

“I brought down a stag this afternoon. I was delivering it to the kitchen.”

“Hmm.” He touches Sabine’s back briefly, and I flinch. It’s barely a touch, but it shoots me through with white-hot jealousy. What happened to her hatred of Rian? Her defiance? Does she really let him touch her like that?

She subtly shifts away from his touch, to my dark satisfaction.

Rian says smoothly, “I promised Lady Sabine that as soon as she was well, I’d take her for a tour of Duren on Myst. I believe there’s a horse race in the arena tonight.”

Yeah, that’s not by chance. He wouldn’t show Sabine the dog fights or warriors wrestling until one of them loses an eye. He picked the least offensive of the arena’s entertainment.

I give a stiff nod. “Enjoy the tour, Lady Sabine.”

I can’t get out of there fast enough, but even before I reach the entrance, Rian calls, “Wolf. Wait.”

He jogs over to me while Sabine strokes Myst’s long neck through the stall bars. Once we’re out of earshot, he lowers his voice.

“The job you mentioned. Being her guard. I changed my mind—I want you to do it. You can start tomorrow night.”

My heartbeats kicks up again in its steady hammer, unsure what to make of this. “What changed?”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “My father. He’s taken an . . . interest in her.”

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