Knight Avenged (29 page)

Christ, what a choice. What a terrible, indefensible choice.

Betray the woman he cared about or watch his brothers-in-arms die at the hands of Halál and the Druinguari. The magnitude of it weighed on him, but that didn’t stop him. He turned toward the trailhead instead and, conscience in tatters, walked across the clearing, toward the hot spring and Cosmina, his heart growing heavier with every step he took.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Twilight descended like a prayer, quiet and sure of itself as Cosmina watched clear skies give way to wispy clouds and the coming night. The magic hour. Not yet dark, still enough light to see by—a place in time where enchantment lived and anything was possible. Chest deep in the hot spring, warm water lapping at her shoulders, she hummed. Such a fanciful thought. Laughable in many ways, but accurate nonetheless. She’d always felt the most grounded at dusk. ’Twas as though the world opened up, revealing the chasm between light and dark, where contrasts ruled and contradictions blended, becoming compatible for a time.

Just like her and Henrik.

Tipping her head back, Cosmina dipped her hair beneath the surface, wetting the thick strands, her gaze on the smooth stones surrounding the small pool. Body calm, her mind drifted, but remained tethered to one thing. Or rather, one man. Henrik. He was like twilight, a study in contradictions—dark and dangerous one moment, gentle and caring the next. It would’ve confused her had she not understood him so well. She knew what drove him. Had spent enough time with him talking and touching—loving him while trying not to lose her heart—to know his mission was importan
t . . .
and in no way included her.

She’d picked that tidbit up from Tareek. Easy enough to do. Derision had been written all over the dragon-warrior’s face. He disapproved of her liaison with Henrik. A wise man with the proper sentiment, no doubt. Too bad she didn’t care. She wanted Henrik too much to do the smart thing. Cosmina sighed. The right thin
g . . .
the best thin
g . . .
the safest thing. She knew what each of those entailed: her walking away from Henri
k . . .
this instant. But even as intellect set out the path and realization dawned, she refused to heed it. She possessed limited time with him. Not nearly enough to suit her, s
o . . .

Forget Tareek.

For once, she would take what she wante
d . . .
even if it hurt her in the end.

Closing her eyes, Cosmina lay back and, with a sigh, allowed herself to float. The gentle ebb and flow rocked her, pulling residual tension from her muscles as tendrils of steam curled from the surface of the hot spring. Night sounds murmured, the familiar creak of tree limbs beyond the rocks drifted on the winter wind, breaking through the stillness, holding an owl’s call high. Each noise brought her comfort, but ’twas the whisper of footfalls by the pool’s edge that made her smile.

Hm
m . . .
’twas about time. Tareek had finally let him go.

With a throb of anticipation, Cosmina lifted her head and, treading water in the middle of the pond, turned full circle. Hazel-gold eyes riveted to her, Henrik stood beyond the stone lip ringing the shoreline. Without looking away, he unlaced his tunic and tugged it over his head. Her breath caught as he bared his chest. Goddess, he was beautiful. So strong and able. So gloriously made sometimes she wondered whether he was real. Another fanciful thought. One that vanished the instant he tossed one boot, then the other, over his shoulder, and started on his trews. Arousal rolled through her as she watched him strip. Despite the heat and need, her lips twitched.

Goodness, he was shameless. Without a modicum of modesty. Not an ounce of decency in sight. But, try as she might, Cosmina couldn’t stifle her hum of appreciation. The purr rolled from her throat, then across the water, welcoming him with unequaled measure. Henrik growled in reaction, and laces undone, played the tease, hooking his thumbs in his waistband, making her wait, driving her mad. Feasting on the sight of him, she licked her bottom lip and swallowed, reliving his taste, wanting his mouth on hers, so ready for him it embarrassed her.

Not that it mattered.

Shame had no place between them. Her need for him came with the territory. Was part and parcel of her surrender to him. Something she’d done willingly, without an ounce of hesitation or remorse. But as he drew the leather down his thighs, stepped over the rocks, and into the water, a pang expanded inside her chest. As it squeezed around her heart, Cosmina battled the awful rise of emotion. Despite her intentions and best-laid plans, she knew it would get messy. Letting him go. Saying good-bye. Allowing him to walk away—without begging him to stay—was going to be so damned difficult. Almost impossible now that she’d opened her heart and pulled him in, permitting true intimacy.

A mistake of terrible magnitude.

What she and Henrik shared went beyond the pleasure. She felt it, believed i
t . . .
accepted it without question. It was about closeness and acceptance, and, ay
e . . .
love. At least for her. Her affinity for him surpassed the physical, spreading into areas she should have guarded much more closely. Which meant she’d lied. To him as well as herself.

No regrets
, indeed.

Such a stupid statement. A miscalculation that would bring her naught but pain in the end. Henrik hadn’t lied to her. Or hidden his intentions. He was a man bred for war, one who didn’t mince words. He would leave, just as he said he would. No use disputing the truth, never mind trying to change it. So only one thing left to d
o . . .
come to terms with the fact she must let him go and that he would take her heart with him when he went.

A splash echoed, bouncing off the high rocks behind her as Henrik dove in.

Water rippled, rolling into her chest, dragging her focus back to the present and away from the future. Searching beneath the surface, Cosmina bobbed in the gentle eddy, kicking her feet, arms undulating beneath warm water—desperate for him to reach her. She huffed. It figured. Her reaction to him bordered on insanity. She was beyond need. Far too enamored with him. Foolish in every way. She ought to be retreating. Setting up emotional roadblocks with an eye to self-preservation. Instead she waited for him, torment and anticipation cascading into a sordid tangle that simply made her want him more.

Henrik surfaced behind her.

Setting his mouth to the top of her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her into him. Her shoulder blades bumped his chest. Hard muscle flexed around her. Sighing his name, loving the feel of him, she tipped her head back. He accepted her weight, holding her close, supporting her in the water, making her heart pang as she yearned for something more. Something pure and unmeasured. Something driven by love instead of passion alone. But
more
wasn’t part of the agreement.

She’d seen to that when she’d settled for far,
far
less.

Fighting the tight knot of emotion, Cosmina swiped her expression clean and turned in his embrace. Water swirled, moving around and between them. She murmured in need. He understood the plea and, dipping his head, brushed his mouth against hers. Unable to resist, she opened wide, inviting him in, and buried her hands into his hair. The wet strands clung to her fingertips, pushed between, enthralling her as he deepened the kiss and she got her first taste. So good. Decadent. Indecent. Beyond the pale of proper behavior. Not that Cosmina cared. She licked into his mouth instead, refusing to heed reason. Henrik was here. She wanted him as much and as many times as he allowed it.

End of story. To hell with the consequences.

Caressing her beneath the water, Henrik tangled his tongue with hers. Desire flared higher, licking beneath her skin. Cosmina moaned in delight, asking for more, forgetting restraint and the looming devastation in her future. Naught mattered but him—his taste, his scent, the feel of his hands on her body. Right. Wrong. Neither factored in anymore. In that moment, he became the center of her universe, the sun, the moon, all the stars, an
d . . .

Gods, it wasn’t fair.

He tasted so good and felt even better, as though he belonged in her arms, and she, in his.
Meant to be.
The phrase tickled her senses and played with her mind. All an illusion, she knew. A ruse designed with one purpose in mind—to break her heart. But blast and damn, it seemed real, felt right, making her believe even as her more practical side scoffed. Henrik wasn’t hers. She wasn’t meant to be his. A quirk of fate had brought them here.

Naught more. Nothing less.

“Cosmina. Sweet love, I need—”

“Me too.” Holding him close, she kissed him again.

“Nay,
iubita
, don’t. I have t
o . . .
” His denial lit the fuse on defiance. Baring her teeth, Cosmina nipped his bottom lip. He groaned against her mouth. “Goddamn it, Cosmina. I need to explain something. You’re no
t . . .
oh God. You taste good. I cannot get enough of you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.” An understatement of epic proportions. ’Twas so much more than that. The attraction was delicious, heated, practically flammable. “Can we make love in the water?”

“Aye, but—”

“But nothing.” One hand flat against the nape of his neck, she sent the other exploring. Over his wide shoulders. Down his gorgeous chest. Across the taut muscles roping his abdomen. A little lower, and she curled her hand around him. He sucked in a quick breath. Cosmina smiled and, showing no mercy, stroked him from root to tip. “So hard, Henrik. Smooth as silk and hot in hand. You’re ready to please me.”

“I can’t. Not yet. Not until I—oh Jesus.” Breathing hard, he rolled his hips into her next stroke, but shook his head. She caressed him again. He cursed between clenched teeth. “Mercy, love. Mercy.”

“Nay.” Pressing her advantage, she licked over his bottom lip. “I want you, Henri
k . . .
right now.”

“After, Cosmina,” he said. “If you still want me after, then I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it. Gladly. Without hesitation, bu
t . . .
”

The edge in his voice slowed her down. Her hand stilled its intimate play. Retreating a little, she met his gaze. “After what?”

Brows drawn tight, he drew a deep breath.

“Henrik?” Seeing the regret in his eyes, alarm streaked through her.

Oh dear. Not good. She didn’t like that look.

Remorse lived in his expression, the kind she didn’t want to see, never mind have directed at her. Something was wron
g . . .
terribly
wrong
. Treading water with him, she held him close, caressed the tops of his shoulders, hoping to alleviate his tension. It didn’t help. Her touch cranked him tighter instead, and as his arms flexed around her, she hooked onto his emotional turmoil. Worry. Remorse. Guilt. All took a turn in his expression and—gods. He was uncertain about something. Completely conflicted. Uncomfortable in his own skin. Not like the Henrik she’d come to know at all.

Desperate to soothe him, Cosmina raised her hand and cupped his cheek. Whiskers scraped her palm, teased the pads of her fingertips as he bowed his head and pressed his face to the side of her throat. His torment tugged at her heartstrings. “What is wrong?”

“Naught.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

One corner of his mouth tipped up. “I am an excellent liar.”

“Probably,” she said against his temple. “But not with me, s
o . . .
out with it. Tell me what is troubling you. You know I will needle you until you do.”

Her teasing tone was meant to make him laugh. A tremor rolled through him instead.

“Cosmina.” He whispered her name like a benediction, with yearning, as though asking for forgiveness for something he hadn’t yet done. Raising his head, he met her gaze. Gentle and sure, he brushed wet tendrils of hair away from her face. “Do you trust me?”

She hesitated a heartbeat. ’Twas a loaded question. One she’d hoped to leave unexplored. But as she held his gaze, Cosmina faltered. She should say n
o . . .
no way. No chance in hell. Trust was a big step, but going all in and admitting it? Cosmina knew that might prove fatal. Men talked of trust all the time, but rarely, if ever, proved worthy of it. And yet, as the silence expanded and Henrik waited for her to answer, the truth struck home an
d . . .

Goddess help her. She didn’t want to lie. Not to him.

“Aye, Henrik,” she whispered, knowing she shouldn’t, telling herself not to, plunging headlong into trouble anyway. “I trust you.”

A mistake. Cosmina knew it the second the words left her mouth.

Still she refused to take them back, even when Henrik drew her closer. Warm water swirled between them. Cosmina barely noticed. Locked against him, his gaze bored into hers, making her forget the here and now. A tingle circled her temples, then stroked along each side of her head. She tensed. Something wasn’t right. But even as the realization registered, the strange vibration coalesced at the base of her skull, then tugged, pulling her sideways inside her own mind. Pure seduction, the tilting pitch urged her to give in and go along, bu
t . . .

Wrong. All
wrong
. The prickle, the mental fo
g . . .
the drift of sensation.

Clinging to Henrik, Cosmina blinked and, fighting to clear her mind, reached for clarity. None came. Instead the brain fog thickened as, gaze steady on hers, Henrik’s eyes started to shimmer. Alarm slithered through her, making instinct rise. She shook her head. His grip on her tightened. Gasping his name, she tried to retreat, struggling in his arms, battling sensory overload as a vortex opened deep inside her. Whispering reassurances, Henrik cupped the sides of her face, pressed his thumbs beneath her chin, forcing eye contact.

Her breath hitched. Her muscles twitched. Her brain shut down.

In that order. Even as she fought the slow slide into enchantment. Even as she called his name, asking him to stop. Even as the pressure built between her temples and the cerebral burn took hold, making her fall into him instead of away. Panic kicked her heart against her breastbone, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t resist or pull away. Lost in the swirling gold of his gaze, a snick echoed inside her head. She whimpered. Henrik murmured, telling her to relax, that he wouldn’t hurt her, soothing her with his voice as he pushed past reason and invaded her mind.