“I will point out,” she said, “that with your magic—your clearlystrongmagic—you probably wouldn’t be affected by mine. Even among normal humans, not everyone feels bound to a healer after the healing.”
“There are some risks I’m not willing to take.”
“That’s a surprising statement from someone who leaps abouton dragon backs, jumping from one to another and risking falling to his death in every battle.”
“There are things worse than dying in battle.”
“Like what?”
Betraying one’s people, she thought, somehow certain that was what he worried about. Thereweretruths he didn’t want to be compelled to speak. She’d been on the verge of trusting him, but now… now she again doubted that she could. Especially when he shook his head instead of answering.
Eyes intent—no,intense—Vorik lifted a hand, brushing her cheek gently with his knuckles. The heated tingle returned, running from her face to her core, making her want… what she dared not ask for. What she dared not offer.
“Will you give me your word?” Vorik asked. “No magic.”
“You have my word,” she said without hesitation.
Maybe sheshouldhave hesitated, but she’d never contemplated going against his wishes on that matter.
“Thank you.” His fingers trailed from her cheek to her jaw, lifting it slightly, and he kissed her.
His lips were warm and gentle, in contrast to the fierce power emanating from his body.
He probably meant the kiss as a sign of appreciation to accompany his words, but it aroused startling desire in her, and she had to flatten her hands against the stone wall behind her to keep from gripping his shoulders, from pressing herself against him and kissing him back. Her body was taut with need, with the steamy attraction she hadn’t wanted to admit to but undeniably felt.
A tremble rippled through her, but she told herself he needed healing, not sex. Besides, he was a prisoner, and there were guards outside. They couldn’t…
But, by the watchful eyes of the moon, she wanted to, and she caught herself leaning away from the wall and into him. Her bodymolded to his, and her lips parted, her tongue slipping out to stroke his. Need coiled within her.
His eyelashes flickered, a hint of surprise at her reaction, but it couldn’t have displeased him, because he slid his hands down her back and pulled her closer against him. She could feel the scorching heat of his hard body through the healer’s robe she’d been lent, a robe with a flap that tied at the hip with a loose knot that could easily come free. Then they could?—
A grunt and a clang sounded in the room outside. In a blink, Vorik shifted away from her.
Breathless, Syla wanted to complain, to rush after him, but he’d already sat back on the bed and hooked the shackle so that it appeared to restrain him.
The door opened, and Flaron set several bottles on the table with the other items. He looked suspiciously at Vorik and then over at Syla, his concerned eyes silently asking if she was all right.
No, she thought, craving Vorik’s touch and hoping the shadows of the room hid the flush to her cheeks—to her entire body. But she smoothed her face and nodded at the guard.
“Thank you, Flaron.”
“Holler if he threatens you in any way. One of us will be out here.” Flaron patted his sheathed sword.
“Thank you, but it’ll be fine. As you can see, he’s too wounded to be a threat.” Syla was impressed she got those words out without laughing at the ridiculousness of them. A man who could break bars with his hands was more threatening than any other she’d known, no matter what state of injury he was in.
“He’s a rider with a bond mark.” Flaron waved at Vorik’s bare hand. “He’s a threat. Don’t let yourself forget it, Your Highness.”
Flaron lingered in the open doorway, vacillating. Thinking of staying to keep an eye on her?
She walked to the table, picked up the surgical kit, and opened it. She didn’t sayspurtingagain, but Flaron eyed the sharp instrumentsand withdrew, shutting the door behind him. A few seconds later, voices started up.Bothguards might remain on the landing.
Since half the temple thought Vorik wastrickingher, Syla had to keep this professional. Besides, if the enforcers showed up at dawn, she wanted him to be fixed up in case he needed to run. She didn’t trust him, but she also couldn’t bring herself to want him caught and tortured.
“Lie back.” Syla approached him. “This will take some time.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Vorik smiled a little wryly and did so, locking his hands behind his head, as if to say he wouldn’t impede her.
Mostpeople were tense and worried when they came to a healer, but he looked… pleased. Maybe because he’d extracted her word from her not to use her magic.
