“That is also what you would say if you were treacherous, so that I would not anticipate your betrayal.”
She laughed suddenly. “Yes, I would.” Tilting her head, she studied his face again, her expression a curious mixture of amusement and gravity. “Why ask me questions if you always doubt my answers?”
Maddek knew not. Better not to speak with her at all, if she was as calculating as he suspected. Only a fool would make the same mistake her brother had—believing that because she was weak, she posed no danger to him. Believing that he could trust her at his back. Yet with every breath he took, Maddek became more and more a fool.
Because he was not thinking only of how he should distrust her, or even of fucking her—he was also enjoying her company and her smiles. These past days, he’d bitten his tongue as his warriors had enjoyed them, because they were not fools, either. Yet none of them looked at her with suspicion. He’d seen her easy conversations with Banek, and frequently heard the old man’s rusty laugh join her throaty one. With treats and pettings, she’d befriended Fassad’s dogs and, in doing so, befriended the warrior. This morn, after Yvenne asked whether bandits were as common in Goge as in Toleh, Ardyl had returned the jeweled dagger Yvenne used to kill her brother, claiming that on an open road, even warriors were not enough protection. Then Danoh—who usually only opened her mouth to put food into it—had shown her how to strap the weapon to her lower leg, and how best to wield it while mounted. Young Toric could still barely meet her moonstone eyes without blushing, yet seemed to pass each day thinking of new questions to ask of her while they broke their morning fast. Even Kelir had praised her, remarking upon her fortitude, and now was completely caught in her spell, as if she’d known that she could win over Maddek’s closest friend by poking fun at Maddek’s scowl and his smile.
Did Maddek forget who she was, she might win over him, too.
For despite sharing furs, since the night after she’d taken the half-moon milk, he’d spent almost no time talking with Yvenne—and now he envied every word that had passed between his warriors and her. He wished that her every laugh and smile had been aimed at him, that he’d ridden beside her, that he’d strapped that jeweled dagger to her leg. It was madness.
Yet perhaps . . . not so mad. Or unexpected. He had seen her cold and shrewd. Likely Yvenne knew exactly what she did.
“Do you deliberately befriend my warriors?”
Sudden bemusement curved her lips, as if she thought his question absurd. “Of course I do.”
“You manipulate them? What of the gratitude you spoke of when they rescued you from your marriage to Toleh? Is this how you repay them?”
A soft sigh escaped her and she looked to the river. “Even if I purposely cultivate their friendship and loyalty, it does not mean the loyalty and friendship I offer in return is not genuine.”
“Yet you wonder why I doubt?”
She slanted him an irritated glance. “You speak from your lofty height, warrior. For I have not had the luxury of a lifetime spent in their company and forging the same bonds you have. But as my very life depends upon their protection and goodwill—”
“No,” he stopped her. “Your life depends on my protection and goodwill.”
“Then I shall make certain to ease your need very well indeed!” she snapped.
Maddek grinned.
Her burning glare did not cool for a long breath, and then her lips twitched. Brows arching, she ran her gaze the length of his body, lingering upon the ridged muscles of his stomach, which hardened ever more under her perusal. “When you come to the furs tonight and wake me, do you think my purpose will be pleasure or manipulation?”
“I care not what your purpose is,” he said honestly. “So long as your mouth is hot upon my cock.”
Her gaze dropped lower, teeth pinching her soft bottom lip as she took in the enormity of the erection beneath his linens. Heat and amusement lit her eyes in equal measure when they met Maddek’s again. “My body is small, but my heart is still a warrior-queen’s. So I shall make a valiant effort to wield your mighty sword.”
Maddek could neither stop his laugh nor resist the impulse to touch her again. Palm cupping the side of her slim neck, long fingers wrapping around her nape, he pressed his thumb beneath her jaw and tilted her head back. Her breath stopped, her entire body suddenly frozen, her gaze searching his. Her pulse throbbed frantically in the vulnerable column of her throat. Arousal or fear, he knew not. The last time he had touched her in this way, Maddek had worn silver claws and had intended to spill her blood onto the ground.
Her hot breath shuddered when he swept his thumb across her trembling lips.
“Open,” he commanded, and she did.
Without prompting, her wet velvet tongue slicked over the pad of his thumb, tasting his skin. Need clenched upon his body so hard that Maddek thought he might spend there, with nothing but a lick. His heart thundered as if he were in the midst of battle—yet he stood motionless upon the cobblestones.
But perhaps this was a battle. Though it could not be properly waged here.
Nor could it be waged now. A familiar chirp reached his ears—Danoh’s signal that someone was approaching. Not a warning, simply an alert.
He glanced over his shoulder. Danoh had climbed the mound of ruins for a better vantage and was looking back the way they had come. Other travelers were not unexpected. This route was well-used, and they had passed through a village shortly before the rains had stopped. Anyone who had been waiting out the storm in that village would be coming upon them now.
But so might any bandits who had seen them pass.
“Does someone come?” Yvenne’s query was a puff of warm air and a brush of soft lips against his thumb.
Maddek grunted an assent.
“A threat?”
“I expect not.” Still, they had lingered here long enough. Maddek’s gaze searched the road ahead. Empty all the way to the horizon, with no visible threat from that direction, human or animal. And Yvenne stood a fair distance from the riverbank—almost a full arrow’s flight. “You would be safe here if you wish to walk while I ready our horses. Or you can return with me to the road.”
“It would be best to walk,” she said.
Maddek agreed. They would not stop again until nightfall. “Unless I call for you, do not leave this stone path. Fassad will send his hounds to look after you until I return with your gelding.”
She nodded, and with a final slide of his thumb across her mouth, reluctantly Maddek released her. At the head of the ruins, his warriors were all belting on their linens again, even before Maddek signaled across the distance for them to prepare to leave.
After another signal to Fassad, the hounds streaked across the muddied flat. Maddek had only taken ten steps before they passed him, and he looked back to see Yvenne greeting the dogs with a laughing smile, scratching their ears as they jostled each other for her attention.