She tipped her face up, enjoying the way his eyes appeared dark with need, or perhaps because of the low light. She preferred to think it was the former. His hand on her back slid lower, coming to rest on the swell of her bottom as he pulled her closer. “You are so cute.”
“Oh,” she breathed, processing the sentiment. She abhorred adjectives that made her feel—
They finally kissed, his warm lips crashing into hers, cutting her off mid-thought.
Mouths already slightly ajar, his teeth clinked against hers, forcing them both to draw back as their bodies absorbed the uncomfortable shiver. He leaned in again, this time with less force, and they made a second attempt. His big lips overtook hers, kneading against her, and his tongue poked out, urging her to let him in. She did, not entirely enjoying the sensation of their moist muscles shoving against one another. But as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a warm embrace, she got over it, because it was exciting, after all, being kissed by a handsome guard.
five
Kas fears a distraction.
“They’reexpectedinsixhours, my lord.” A servant delivered Kas’s breakfast and answered his question before ducking out of the room.
He’d ordered the meal as a consolation prize after thoughts ofherpulled him from his project, yet again.Absolutely ridiculous. It would have been more productive to ride out and survey the overland drainage being put in in quadrant seven—more productive than daydreaming of Miss Kiappa.
Gods. She wasn’t that interesting.
He thought he’d get over this passing interest after one year and ten months. Yet here he was, still, and he had a name to go with the rest of her.
Kas sniffed, and Lellin, his oldest wolfhound, lifted her head from her spot near the fire to let out a whine.
Tossing her a strip of bacon, he said, “For you, old girl.” She might be named for the ancient goddess of death, but the real Lellin hadn’t come for her yet, and he’d had the hound since he was a teen.
As he finished the last of his meal, Kas took what was left of his tea and moved to his apartment’s patio to gaze at the loch. Lellin joined him and sprawled upon the sun-warmed tiles. The distant shore of Karova was invisible across the vast, fog-laden expanse, but he still spotted a few small boats, fishermen and pleasure-seekers, dotting the nearby waves. Nonewent past, or even got close to, the small island in the middle that marked the border with the tribal-run lands to the east.
What will she think of the view?How would the illustrious Miss Kiappa find his estate and his humble home at Stormhill? Fine, maybe nothumble, but smaller than the palace.
With a heavy sigh, laden with too many responsibilities and not enough free time to follow his whims, Lord Kahoth reflected on those days at Kirce. Each time he ran back over the details, he noticed something new. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t help but question both his sanity and the reliability of said memories. Still, he let his mind skate over their meetings again. It was better than replaying when he’d spotted her at the symposium for the thousandth time.
He really did have a lot to do, and if her stay at Stormhill was anything like Kirce, he’d be drawn to her like a moth to certain death from the moment she arrived to the moment she left. There was a significant difference between the golden-clad woman from the symposium, whom he’d memorialized like one of the gods and popped up on a pedestal, and the flesh and blood creature who’d stood before him at the palace—who was coming to stay at hishome.
Sighing mid-sip, Kas blew a splatter of tea into his face. He swiped the mess away and lingered, dragging his palm down his cheek. She wasn’t all that interesting, a distraction more than anything else. If he cleared afewthings off his never-ending to-do list, maybe he could consider her more.
For now, it was time to get back to work. Mouth caught somewhere between a scowl and smile, Kas made his way to his study to write to his steward in Kabuvirib, double-check the last quarter’s accounts, and make headway on his personal pursuits.
Aknockonthestudydoor tore Kas away from his notes. Bleary-eyed, he grumbled under his breath and attempted to focuson the two overlapping door handles hovering across the room.
“What?” he barked, squeezing his eyes closed to reset his vision. Too many small words for too many hours always did that to him.
Thera, his housekeeper, responded, her muffled voice kindly as always, even in response to his attitude, “They’re here.”
His heart rate spiked, and he began shuffling papers.
“Sorry,” he offered when he finally opened the door. Across the hall, Thera stood with her arms crossed over her enormous bosom. “Work.”
She nodded before turning toward the main entrance.
Kas followed her onto the steps where, a few hundred yards away, a pair of carriages rumbled toward Stormhill, backed by a cloud of dust kicked up by their horses.
He muttered something about not having any more time to finish his tasks, missing deadlines, and so on and so forth. Despite protestations, his heart danced a happy little jig he found quite obnoxious.
“My lord?” Thera looked up at him.
“Hmph. It’s nothing.” Itwasnothing, he needed to stop being such a grump. The twins were coming, ostensibly because their magic was out of control. But on his recent visit to Serkath, Kas learned from Hevva that there were other, potentially darker, issues at play that the king and queen wanted to protect their family from.
It wasn’t anything to be concerned about, Hevva claimed, minor rumblings about a potential usurper working behind the scenes. It reminded Kas of when the late Duke of Kashoorcih had tried to garner support to overthrow Ehmet over a decade earlier. But his sister assured him this was nowhere near that level of annoyance.
The first carriage came to a stop, closely followed by the second. Before the coachmen even had a chance to hop down and open the doors, the front coach flew open and a whirlwind containing two tiny gremlins burst forth.
