Roa swallowed.
Dax.
She kept very still. From his breathing, he was awake. Awake and trying not to move. She felt his arm resting across her lower back, his fingers curled lightly over the curve of her hip.
Roa squeezed her eyes shut.
This was not good.
Not good. Not good.
She must have been so cold in the night, she’d climbed on top of him for warmth.
“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” he said softly.
Roa pushed herself up. She glanced down at the bare-chested king whose other arm was bent behind his head. A rusted iron key hung from a cord around his neck.
She meant to look away, but her gaze snagged on the smooth shape of his shoulders. They sloped ever so slightly, curving away from his neck and down to his strong arms. Her gaze continued downward, noticing how his waist tapered. Noticing the dark, curling hairs below his belly button. The ones that trailed down and...
Look away, Roa!
She looked away, right into his face. Disheveled dark curls, warm brown eyes, stubbled jaw.
She had a sudden, troubling urge to run her fingertip along his cheek—just to feel the roughness.
The corner of his mouth curved, watching her look at him.
“Please,” he said. “Take your time.”
Panic flared through her. She slid out of the bedroll, needing to get out of this tent.
Her heart hammered in her ears as her hands searched the floor for her clothes, then pulled them on, keeping her back to Dax.
He sat up to watch her. “Since when are you so skittish?”
Roa didn’t answer him. Didn’t dare look his way. She was not like his other girls. She would not be lured in by his charming smile, by that silver tongue, only to be cast aside when he’d had his fill of her.
To break the silence, she said, “Watch your back today.” Catching sight of her sandskarf, Roa quickly grabbed it, thenstarted wrapping it around her shoulders. “Theo is not your ally. So long as Sky travels with us, you need to stay alert.”
Dax stretched, yawning, then ran a hand through his mess of curls.
She averted her eyes, looking down at the tent floor.
“Really, Roa. I’m touched. It’s almost like you care.”
Roa glanced up to find that annoying smile on his face.
“Care?”she said coldly. “You think I care for a king whose intelligence begins and ends with his ability to choose a good wine—or a good bedfellow?” Something prowled in her chest, snapping and growling. “My care for you is directly proportionate to how useful you are. The moment you cease to benefit the scrublands is the moment my care runs out.”
Her words sapped the warmth from his eyes.
“Why not depose me, then?”
Roa froze in the tent entrance. “What?” she whispered.
“You could rule alone,” he said. “It would be incredibly convenient.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered as she pulled her sandskarf up over her head. Opening the tent flap, she stepped into the sunlight.
