“Yes. Whores.” He refused to apologize for satisfying a bodily need in the safest way possible. Love was as dangerous as this damnable castle, and anyone who’d ever loved surely knew it.
“You like whores?”
He wagged his jaw back and forth before spitting out, “Fucking looooove whores.”
“Good,” she snapped.
His brows shot up. “Good?”
“Yes,” she snarled. “Fucking great. Now shut up and stop distracting me.”
“You’re the one talking.”
“Only because you’re so fucking dull I have to talk to keep myself awake.”
Baz sniggered. “I’m dull.”
Eyes blazing an angry golden brown, she straightened her spine until she was a scant half head shorter than him. “That’s right. Dull as piss water.”
“Piss water?”
“You heard me.”
With both hands, he clutched the rope between them and tugged hard. She stumbled toward him, catching herself with both hands against his chest. Immediately, she began to push away.
He caught her by both wrists. She struggled to free herself.
“Let. Me. Go,” she seethed.
For several frantic beats of his thumping heart, he stared into those feral eyes of hers. Her rising temper made the brown practically glow even in the dim lumoonlight.
He sighed and released her. She backed away from him hastily as if he were a puddle of said piss water about to splash on her boots.
“I…” he started.
“You what?” she demanded in a hot rush of fury.
“I…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten for a second that I’m your prisoner.”
“And I haven’t forgotten for a second that you’re my family’s worst enemy, and that you already tried to kill me once.”
“Good. I don’t want you to forget.”
“Then fucking great, ’cause I didn’t. Won’t ever.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he growled.
She backed away from him until the rope was taut between them. The length of black silk looked like just another writhing shadow, out to get him.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up?—”
“Cleared what up?” he asked.
“That beyond rumors and history books, you and your friends are ignorant about the castle?—”
