Allegiance Sworn (23 page)

The stakes were worth the risk.

“Anything else?” he asked.

His response drew a husky laugh from her, and she twined her fingers in the thin leather laces crisscrossing his vest.

“Tonight, you serve
Na
Kaal.” A gesture directed his attention to the curtained-off room they shared. “Once you go in there”—she tugged the lace on his vest until it unraveled and loosened—“this all comes off. I want you naked.”

A jolt of sizzling panic sliced through him, so quick he had no chance of controlling it. Breath hissed in through his teeth.

She wanted him stripped bare.

Literally and figuratively.

“You’ll kneel on the floor at the foot of my bed, head bowed, and wait like that until I enter the room. When I do, you won’t look up or address me unless I speak to you.” She cocked her eyebrow at him. “Are you willing to do whatever I want to earn back my trust?”

Arek took a breath to voice his refusal, his response more reactive than logical, then froze. He clenched his teeth so tight his jaw ached.

What
did
he want more? To lay the past to rest, or to succumb to his fear of exploring what lay between them?

Arek hid his grimace. It was difficult, but he tempered his fear and focused on the end result.

Savyr Gannec’s death.

He mightn’t be able to control his physical reactions to her—it was certainly no secret now—but, by the
Light
, he’d make her work for everything else.

“Imhara . . .” Beside him Rassan’s boots scraped on the ground as he shifted closer. “You go too far.”

Words edged with sharp disapproval.

“My Second believes I’m forcing you into something you don’t want to do. Is that true?” Her gaze glittered in challenge. The air between them grew still and warm. “Have I overstepped the mark, Arek?”

Chapter 27

A
REK’S
sharp inhalation made Imhara wonder if she’d pushed him beyond his limit, but the spice in his scent spiked to a new intensity, untainted by any acrid odor, and despite the slight widening of his eyelids, his stare never wavered. A dull flush crept into his cheeks, and his lips parted so he could inhale a steadying breath.

Now
that
was interesting. Where was the protest she’d expected? Back in the makeshift shelter, he’d rejected the attraction growing between them. Playing on that should have elicited an outright refusal, which would have resolved her problem and allowed her to put her secondary plan into place.

Was he actually considering her proposal?

The heat in Arek’s gaze was definitely a mixture of defiance and arousal. He may not have verbally acknowledged the bond growing between them, but whatever his decision, she just hoped that what came next would strengthen it, not destroy it.

“Arek?” Rassan’s soft query reminded her that he was willing to intercede on his behalf.

Imhara held her breath, half hoping, half dreading Arek’s response.

“I don’t blame Imhara for challenging me after my error in judgment.” His admission when it came was low pitched, rough. “She’s not forcing me into doing anything I’m not willing to take on. You have my
Lady
-sworn oath on that, Rassan.”

Steel and resolve burned in the dark blue depths of his gaze. Imhara’s stomach fluttered and she placed her hand on her abdomen. Arek’s gaze flickered to her, caught the movement.

Relief slackened his tight expression, as if he’d been waiting for some reaction from her, then his mouth curved into a small smile. There one moment, gone the next; recognition of her attraction to him. Her heart rate lifted.

Insolent warrior.

Arek might be battling personal demons and his physical reactions to her—his scent had altered enough to hint at a maelstrom of emotions seething inside him—but underlying it all he possessed a core of strength.

He didn’t run from fear. He faced it, regardless of the situation. In that they were very much alike.

Admiration curved her lips upward. Nothing appealed to her more than a strong man, so it came as no surprise to feel the moist heat of arousal between her thighs.

“Satisfied, Second?” she asked, her question a little breathless.

“You tread a fine line, Imhara.” The deep-pitched warning vibrated with concern. She glanced at him. The palest green colored the flecks in his eyes. “Be careful you don’t cross it. You’ll never forgive yourself.”

Ever her moral compass and valued friend.

She gave him a somber nod. “Please arrange for a meal to be sent, then make sure no one disturbs us. This pavilion and my room are not to be entered for any reason other than an emergency.”

“I’ll make sure the sentries are briefed.” After a final glance at Arek, Rassan took his leave.

His absence only emphasized the fact that they were now alone.

“Facing Savyr the first time after the death of my family wasn’t easy. Had it not been for Rassan at my side then, I’d most likely have reacted just as you did.” More than aware of how pride could shackle logic and reason, Imhara made sure her tone remained neutral even though her pulse was hammering in her throat. “I won’t think any less of you if you change your mind.”

For the longest minute, Arek stared at her, watching her watch him, then, “My answer remains the same.” His smile returned. Quick. Teeth bared. Feral. “Perhaps
you’re
the one having second thoughts?”

Very much a challenge. And one that fired her blood.

So be it.

Imhara responded with a grin of her own, a frisson of pleasure rippling through her at the thought of testing his resolve. In fact, she looked forward to it, probably more than she should, given the uncertainty of the outcome.

She snorted softly. Why deny it? She relished it all the more
because
of it.

She gestured with her chin in the direction of the partitioned-off room. “In five minutes I’ll walk through that curtain. You know what I expect. Don’t disappoint me.”

Arek’s eyelids narrowed. Pivoting on his bare heel, he pushed aside the curtain and disappeared into her room. The canvas rasped softly as it settled back into place, the only sound in the silence that followed.

Lady’s Breath
, she was going to need every minute of the time stipulated to compose herself. Her hands shook as she held them up to eye level. She knew why they trembled.

She wanted whatever pleasure could be found from the encounter; hungered for it with a ferocity too long denied. Perhaps, just perhaps, if she handled this as carefully as instinct warned her to, a deep-buried dream might resurface.

Imhara shook her head. It was too soon, too dangerous to let that yearning arise. Let the
Lady
guide her and
Her
will determine the result. Hoping for anything else was a fool’s path to disappointment.

Unable to remain stationary, she paced the length of the outer room, counting down the seconds, then added on more.

Na
Kaal’s prerogative.

Keeping an opponent off balance was something she did well, and making Arek wait a little longer gave him time to contemplate his decision, the possibilities of what he’d agreed to, the consequences. It also might take the edge off his cockiness, giving her the advantage. She’d take whatever she could.

Imhara glanced at the partition.

It was time.

With a slow release of breath, she settled into her role, her course set. Heart pounding in her chest, she pushed through the curtain and into the room.

Arek knelt at the foot of her bed, gloriously naked. Imhara’s heart slammed into her throat at the sight of him waiting there, head bowed, all long limbs and tawny skin. She halted, and bit back a groan.

Merciful Mother
, he was beautiful.

She couldn’t really describe all of the sensations flooding her senses in those first few heartbeats. Some she easily identified—pleasure, awe, lust, desire—but those she couldn’t—the deep warmth that encircled her heart, the breath-stealing pressure in her chest, the overwhelming need choking her throat—they left her unsettled.

Confused.

She inhaled a steadying breath acknowledging the effect he had on her, even if she couldn’t fathom the intensity surrounding her reactions. They just reinforced her original notion of him that day in the library.

He was masculine beauty personified.

And on the auction block, he’d have impressed even the most jaded of buyers.
Na
Kaal included.

Imhara took in the curve of his feet tucked beneath lean flanks, the taut folded length of his legs, and powerful muscles of his thighs. With his knees spaced evenly apart for balance, jutting hipbones and the diagonal lines of his groin muscles and a fine dusting of blond hair arrowed down, drawing her gaze to his shaft and the shadowed sac behind it.

She forced her gaze higher, not allowing herself the temptation of examining him too closely other than to note he was nicely proportioned. Up over his ridged abdomen to the wide expanse of his chest, muscular shoulders and arms, the strong column of his neck. A few pale scars marked his skin—one across his ribs, another on his side, while the longest stretched from hip to knee on his right thigh—yet they only added to his appeal.

He’d left his hair unbound, and with his head bowed, the blond-streaked locks obscured his face from view. If it hadn’t been for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, Arek could have passed as a mastercrafter’s statue placed on display for any viewer’s pleasure.

Every muscle, every limb, every ridged angle and curved line displayed stone-carved perfection. More than worthy of admiration, although—and here, her mouth twisted wryly—she doubted any artist would approve of the carnal nature of her appreciation.

Imhara let the curtain drop behind her. The canvas flapped against itself, then dragged in a soft rasp over the rug as it settled on the floor. Arek never moved, yet his whole demeanor, his rigid, straight-backed position, the tightness of the muscles across his shoulders, even the way his hands lay on his thighs, fingers stretched out along the muscles, told her he was focused and more than aware of her presence.

A warrior to the core.

She had little doubt he would use that training in the coming hours.

But tonight she wanted to learn about the man.

Yet how to begin? What would he least expect, given he anticipated the worst from
Na
Kaal?

A few heartbeats later a slow smile curved her lips.

* * *

AREK
kept his head lowered as the soft slide of canvas announced Imhara’s entrance. Every muscle in him went tight. He issued a silent grunt, and almost shook his head. No, every muscle pulled
tighter
, given he’d stripped to bare skin, then spent an eternity kneeling at the foot of her bed anticipating her appearance.

Her strategy of making him wait left his legs and feet aching from sitting on them for so long. He’d kept his position, determined to allay her doubts. He could feel her gaze on him, the intensity of it licking his skin like fire. Her silent regard heated his blood until goose bumps prickled his entire body, left him hyperaware of the cool air caressing every inch of him.

“You’ve followed my orders. Well done.”

It was hard controlling the urge to look up, particularly when he heard the slight waver in her voice. Had she not expected him to follow through on their agreement? Was it nerves or the effect of seeing him naked that caused it? Distraction or admiration? The expression on her face would tell but he couldn’t check.

Even though he’d chosen to subject himself to her scrutiny, he’d come so close to covering himself when she’d entered the room. He hated to start a battle from a position of vulnerability, but her response soothed some of the tension gnawing at his innards.

One strike for him.

This engagement would be a different sort than the one he was used to but he could adapt. He drew in a steadying breath.

“This is a promising start to the night. More than I anticipated.” Her tone, husky yet warm, indicated she was pleased. With his actions or him? Either would aid his cause. “Where did you put your clothes?”

The scuff of her boots against the hard ground indicated her progress across the floor, not toward him and the bed, but the cushion-strewn area opposite him. While he couldn’t see her, her shadow crossed the rug in front of him and the faint chafe of fabric on fabric indicated she’d made herself comfortable on them.

“I put them on the chest beside the bed,
Na
Kaal.” Leaving them on the floor hadn’t seemed appropriate. “I can move them to another location, if that doesn’t please you.”

“No need.” A soft, wooden knocking almost made him look up. Was she tapping her fingers on the low table nestled among the cushions? “Approach and remove my boots.”

He blinked at the order. “Remove your boots?” Had he heard her right? Belatedly adding, “
Na
Kaal.”

“You hesitate to comply. Surely, you haven’t forgotten the conditions of this evening?”

As if he needed reminding.

“Your request surprised me.” Keeping his head down, he covered the distance between them and knelt again, this time at her feet.

Removing boots he could do.

“Your scent just changed.” Imhara’s long legs uncrossed and she extended one toward him. “Why?”

Taking hold of her calf and the heel of her boot, he tugged it free. He removed the other before answering. “I expected . . . something more demanding.”

That didn’t cover half the images he’d conjured while waiting for her to enter the room.

“Testing me already?” Pitched low, her voice was cold and hard and made him aware that he’d given her a less than satisfactory answer. His jaw tightened. “By coming in here, you showed your desire to trust, or at least to try and trust. Was I wrong in that assumption?” She made a sound of disgust. “Or maybe you just couldn’t back down from a challenge.” Scorn laced her tone. “You waste my time.”

Her bare heels scraped on the rug and her legs folded under her. She pushed to her feet.

“I am trying!” Unable to help himself, he wrapped his fingers around her calf to stop her leaving. His pulse tripped faster through his veins. “Whenever I’m at a disadvantage . . . I don’t like giving away information. . . .” The words stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard. “Not when I know it’ll be used against me.”

For the longest minute, she said nothing, then he heard a soft sigh. She crouched and her cool fingers wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on her.

“Now that’s what I’m looking for. An honest answer at last.” Her voice softened. “Arek, look at me.”

He lifted his head.

Shadows darkened her gaze. “Do you truly still see me as the enemy?”

Did he? That was the question, wasn’t it? The one he’d been putting off answering.

Once he’d have replied with a resounding yes. Now his certainty flailed like a bleater caught in a quagmire.

He gave the only answer he could.