And it wasn’t just him. It was an entire crowd of people previously roaming the castle grounds; a crowd Rhordyn no doubt carried me through once he plucked me up and bundled me against his chest like a child.
“Yes, but you’ll be at my side the entire time.”
My heart leaps into my throat and flutters about.
At his side ...
He really shouldn’t use that sort of language around me.
“Won’t Zali be there?” I ask, tone flat, and he puffs out a sigh.
In that sound, I hear exhaustion.
“Orlaith, I need you in that room with me,” he insists, leading me to release my own exasperated sigh.
“I’m not dressed for it ...”
“You look perfect to me.”
I peel off the door and twist around, staring daggers at it. “You can’t even see me.”
“Don’t need to.”
I roll my eyes, then hear him rumble—a deep, throaty sound that ignites every cell in my body. But that fire is swiftly extinguished when I remember where this discussion is leading.
“Do I have to talk?” I ask, eyes squeezed shut.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
No answer.
I blow out a breath, run my fingers through my hair, and shove to a stand, straightening my blouse with a few firm tugs. Sweeping damp hair off my shoulders, I lift my chin and whip the door open, catching a glimpse of his posture; bent forward, head bowed, as if he were leaning with his forehead pressed against the grain.
He arches a midnight brow and moves back until he’s three steps down Stony Stem, his eyeline just below mine.
He’s the picture of savage regality, dressed in a fine garb that contours to the grooves of his chiseled physique—so impeccably tailored, it’s as if Dolcie dipped him in shadow ...
I glance away before my mindset erodes any further. Dolcie and her measuring tape can drop in a ditch.
Rhordyn’s shoulders square and he offers me the crook of his arm.
Ignoring it, I sweep past, careful to breathe through my mouth—the sound of his hearty chuckle grating my nerves as I stomp down the stairs.
He’s giving me his smile again, but it’s tainted now.
That smile belongs to somebody else.
* * *
The distressed-wood door does little to soften the chattering coming from behind it.
People.
My twisted fingers betray my skittish nerves, as does the sweat collecting down my spine.
Rhordyn severs my sight of the door, a galvanized shadow slipping into place. But I don’t want to look into his unnerving eyes right now, so I stare at his chest instead ... only mildly less intimidating.
