“Nesrina.” He moved one hand to cup her cheek and bent toward her.
She skimmed a finger along the smooth line of his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed, and she followed suit, angling her face toward him. Their lips met, and he pressed his tongue into her mouth, prodding as he maintained his hold on one arm. His free hand moved from her face down to knead her breast.
Swallowing a groan—he squeezed pretty hard for a moment there—she probed his tongue with hers.
Rihan withdrew from their kiss, putting a breath of distance between them, enough to glance down as his other hand found her other breast. He squeezed them in tandem. “Who needs books when you havethese?”
She tittered and shifted his calloused hands to rest on her hips.
“Oh, you tease,” he grumbled, capturing her mouth once again.
A gruff cough from somewhere above interrupted their kiss, and she blinked stupidly at Rihan.
Another gravelly “Ah-hem,” this one accompanied by a frigid gust of wind that had no place in the summer evening, told herexactlywho interrupted.
Rihan leapt away. A good three feet lay between them, and he stood at attention like thelenedduke was his captain. “Your Grace.” His voice was raspy, and his rosy cheeks grew blotchy.
Nesrina stepped forward, but a tangle of hair stayed behind, and she had to jerk her head forward to free herself from the rough stone wall. With one hand, she smoothed her skirts, and with the other, attempted to smooth her hair. She refused to look up at theinfuriatingman who’d intruded on one of her few private moments with the handsome guard. Instead, she glared at his kneecaps, half considering using her magic to create a mallet with which to bop him.
“This behavior is unacceptable.” The duke’s gruff tone did little to surprise her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nesrina watched Rihan’s formerly stoic gaze drop to Lord Kahoth’s feet. “My apologies, Your Grace,” he ground out, all signs of the confident soldier vanished, and his frustration evident from the white-knuckled fists tensed at his sides.
“Return to your quarters,” the duke commanded.
Rihan began to turn away, paused, angling for a moment as if he was going to check on her, then stomped off, almost petulantly, toward the entrance near the guards’ rooms.
After a beat, Nes turned toward the nearest door, prepared to scuttle away, frustration at Lord Kahoth for his interruption burning hot in her belly and embarrassment heating her face.
“Not you.”
She left her shame on the grass, and nothing but injustice raged within her as she lifted her gaze, finally deigning to look at the man blocking her path. She glowered at his far-too-tiny mouth. “Yes?”
“You’ve interrupted my work,” Kas grumbled.
Taken aback, she spouted, “And you interrupted mine.” Who wassheto speak to a lord like that? She’d probably regret it soon, but the situation was beyond intolerable. She had aroutine, and he’dthrown her off.
He looked down at her, said nothing, and after far too many seconds of heart-hammering silence, lifted his palms before dropping them back to his sides.
“That’s what I thought,” she huffed, bumping him on her march inside.
nine
Nesrina stands on a chaise lounge.
Nesrinalayinbedfor a good twenty minutes after she woke, her brain replaying the unfortunate encounter with the duke over and over again. His sharp jaw, pursed mouth that spit fire, that angrily disheveled hair. She rolled her eyes, scoffing at the bed curtains.
“Rihan,” she whispered, willing her mind to replace visions of Lord Kahoth with her guard. A nice common man, a respectable career, decent wage, young in the face. That had to be good for his... future aging?
With a scoff, Nes got on with her day, her sights set on eight hours down the line when she could meet her guard in the garden, gossip about theincident, and maybe recreate some of its finer aspects. Pulling open her closet door, She froze, a hand flying to her mouth. Where her four dresses and cloak once hung, lonely in the large walk-in space, they were now joined by six brand-new day dresses and—were those gowns?!She gasped, in absolute awe of the rainbow of fabrics before her.
Whose are these?
On cue, a series of muted raps sounded on her door.
“Come in!” she called, recognizing Aylin’s soft fist. Nesrina popped out of the closet as the friendly chambermaid popped in, balancing a stack of fresh towels in one hand and a breakfast tray in the other. She used a cord of water to shut the door behind herself.
“Good morning, miss.” The gray-haired woman was beaming as shelocated Nesrina’s head sticking out of the closet.
