When he slowly drew away, and rested his forehead to hers, they were both breathing hard, their faces flushed and sticky with sweat. Both perhaps just sinking into the strange, surreal truth of this moment, of this being… settled, finally, between them. No more secrets, no more lies. Just… this. Them.
At least, until Geva’s tongue brushed against where he’d bitten her lip, and found that there was — no pain. No taste of blood. Not even a scratch. And when she frowned up at Rathgarr, still nudging her tongue against it, he gave a wry half-smile, a small shake of his head.
“I carry a touch of the old Ash-Kai healing, I ken,” he said, husky. “Not enough that I can wield it at will, or heal true wounds. But” — his mouth quirked higher — “mayhap just enough to soothe my sweet mate, when I wish for this. Or mayhap to help open her pretty rump for me, also.”
And gods damn him, it was one more thing he hadn’t told her — but he bent down again, and very gently nipped at the same spot on her lip. “I did not even think to speak of this, poppet,” he said firmly. “It is naught, ach? Your own gifts of telling tales, and dancing and drumming, and charming innumerable younglings, are far greater than this. Even your sun goddesshairputs this to shame.”
Despite herself, Geva was smiling back at him, shaking her head. Her thoughts darting back to that memory of the night in the inn when he’d flattered her, praised her hair and her skin and her eyes. And maybe he was thinking of it too, his mouth twitching even higher, his eyes soft and affectionate on hers.
“I always thought this was stunning,” he whispered. “From this first day we met.Youwere stunning. And quick, and clever, and brave. I could scarce think, through your beauty, and the sweetness of your scent. And then, after you flooded me with your scent in that wardrobe” — he chuckled, low — “youundressedbefore me. Flaunted your plump, lovely form for me, without even a trace of shame. As if I could bear to let you go, after this?”
Geva blinked up at him, and again shook her head, her disbelief rising. “And then you told me you preferred soft, sweet women,” she pointed out. “And that you would never mate me. Or want to have asonwith me.”
But Rathgarr just chuckled again, and shook his head, too. “Ach, and thenyousucked me,” he countered. “And all your rancour vanished, and you swallowed every last drop, and kissed me so sweetly, and worshipped me with your soft, bewitching eyes. Should you have refused to come with me, after this” — he raised his brows at her — “I should have bound and carried you, ach?”
Gods, he was infuriating, and why was Geva shivering like this, and slowly smiling up at his face. As if he’d said something truly delightful, rather than showing her another glimpse of his vicious, devious, greedy Ash-Kai self.
But in this moment, she couldn’t seem to make herself care… and maybe, maybe, she didn’t. It was part of him. Just the same as the generosity, the vulnerability, the impeccable grooming. Hers. Her mate.
“Areyousure?” she asked now, without quite meaning to. “About having a son?”
She was thinking of how adamant he’d been against it, how he’d threatened to refuse her payment if it happened. And surely he was thinking that too, exhaling as he nodded, his mouth twisting. “Ach,” he said. “I have… longed for this, you ken, even as I feared it. I could not bear to think of failing with my own son, as I failed with Kesst.”
Geva had perhaps already known all that, and she nodded, stroked at him, as he drew in a breath. “But when Kesst and I spoke,” he continued, quieter, “he swore to help me in this, and to treat our son as his own. And should the worst befall me — or you — he and Efterar shall do all within their power to keep our son safe and cared for. This was… a great comfort to me.”
It was a genuine comfort to Geva too, and she felt her smile deepening, her body relaxing even more beneath him. “I’m so glad,” she said. “And so grateful to Kesst for offering.”
Rathgarr was smiling now too, with a distinctive faraway affection in his eyes. “Ach, the gods have blessed me with Kesst, far more than I deserve,” he replied. “I yet cannot believe that we are together again. Or that he has forgiven me, as he has. Ach, well” — he half-grimaced through his smile — “he said he shall only offer his full forgiveness once I have brought my mate back home, and you freely swear to him that I have earned your trust again. Stubborn little Ash-Kai.”
The affection was again almost palpable in his voice, and Geva was fully grinning at him now, feeling his words ring and resonate into her chest. His mate. Home.
“So you will come now, ach?” he asked, so soft, his eyes shimmering on hers. “Come home with me again, not only as my helpmate, but my sworn bondmate, also?”
And Geva couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop the joy from escaping in a bright bubble of laughter. “Yes, Rathgarr,” she said. “I’ll come.”
50
Leaving the Fitzwalds’ was an entirely different experience this time. What with Rathgarr first drawing Geva to her feet, and then straightening out her clothes and hair with surprising care, before thoroughly checking her over for any mess or injury.
“Ach, I have not spilled a drop,” he said cheerfully, once he’d run his hands up the insides of her thighs, letting them linger for longer than was surely necessary. “In poor taste, you ken, in a schoolroom.”
Geva laughed and shook her head, which had the unintended result of lurching Rathgarr closer, his eyes peering disapprovingly down into her hair, before he plucked out a little piece of leaf. “Ach, did Killik not even offer you a hot bath, poppet?” he demanded, as he disdainfully flicked the leaf away. “Shameful. We shall stay in an inn tonight, where you shall bathe, and rest, and eat to your heart’s content.”
That did sound absolutely wonderful, Geva could admit, but before she could reply, Rathgarr spun around, and stalked for his pack. Which she hadn’t even noticed until this moment, and from which — she blinked — he was plucking out a very large piece of thick cloth, and spreading it out over the table.
“What are you —” Geva began, but he’d already strode over to the wall, to… her favourite painting. The one she’d mentioned to him as being valuable, that very first day they’d met. And in return, he’d said,You ken I wish to jaunt about the realm with some great scribble strapped upon my back?
But as Geva stared, incredulous, he plucked the painting off the wall, and carried it to the table. Where he carefully began wrapping it up in the cloth, folding it over again and again, before next yanking out some long strips of leather from his pack, and firmly wrapping them around it, too.
“I am stealing this painting,” Rathgarr said, with supreme nonchalance, as he kept tying it up, securing the leather strips tight. “You wished for it, so now you shall have it. For our own schoolroom, mayhap.”
Oh. Well. And surely Geva wasn’t condoning even more thievery, or was she, because she wasn’t making any effort whatsoever to stop him, and there was a fierce, glimmering pride in her chest, a warm smile still on her mouth. Her mate. Hers.
“Is there aught else you should wish to take from here?” Rathgarr asked now, as he slung the massive wrapped painting onto his back. “Any goods or treats for the orclings, mayhap?”
And damn him, maybe Gevadidwant to take a few more things, and soon she’d helped him stack up a variety of paper and inks, some paints that she’d always had to wheedle the children to use, and an assortment of seldom-used books and toys. Until Rathgarr’s pack was nearly full again, and he was grinning approvingly down at her, and nudging her toward the door. Toward where — Geva twitched, but Rathgarr’s hand was already there, steady on her waist — Killik was standing in the doorway waiting, his arms folded, an impatient glint in his eyes.
“Ach, frittering aboutthieving, whilst we guard you, and clean up your mess,” he said scathingly, pursing his lips. “You tiresome Ash-Kai are all the same. And you did not even make him weep, woman! Or beg!”
