“I know,” he promised. “As I said, I like to take care of you.”
“Yes, but—”
“Evie,” he raised his brow, grinning, “I don’t mind.”
Doubtful, Evylin let him carry on, sipping her tea as he draped her towel over the changing screen with precision. Then he tucked her dirty clothing into the basket for the chambermaid to pick up in the morning.
Once he was done, Deckard gathered his own bathing supplies. Evylin realized she was staring but didn’t care to stop. He was always so graceful, so controlled in his movements, almost like he was born to be royalty rather than a farmer’s son. In the dim afternoon light, his hair looked more brown than usual, highlighting his more Ephrian features. While he could never be considered broad, he still bore a brawn thanks to his hard work as a soldier. She knew just how deceptive that trim figure of his was, hiding his strength.
Tapping her fingers against the porcelain teacup, Evylin considered how she might forestall his bath and convince him to linger for a few minutes. They still had four hours until the meeting. Plenty of time for them to enjoy one another’s intimate company, for him to bathe,andfor her to still get her nap.
A smirk tugged at her lips. She didn’t think the convincing would be all that hard to accomplish.
With a fresh towel and a new set of clothes draped over one arm, Deckard met Evylin’s stare, but evidently, he didn’t notice the lasciviousness within it as he asked, “Have you amused yourself?”
“Pardon?”
He stepped closer, tapping the dimple in her cheek. “You’re smiling.”
“Mm, yes. I was having some rather entertaining thoughts.”
“Oh? Might you share them with me?”
Evylin bit her bottom lip, suddenly embarrassed under his attentive gaze. “I was thinking about you,” she said into her teacup.
“And you find me amusing?” he asked, sounding pleased.
Somehow, Evylin found enough courage to look back up at him and whisper, “In the mostdivertingway.”
Deckard’s brow lifted in surprise, catching her suggestive intonation. “I see,” he murmured, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip. “In that case, I feel I must advise you to be careful, Mrs. Deckard. You’re liable to give a man inappropriate notions with such a speech.”
Evylin tipped her chin up at him. “That’s rather the intent. And it’s Private Deckard, sir. I’d ask you to address me properly.”
“Well, then, Private,” he bent forward, hand on the arm of her chair, his face only inches from hers, “I must beg your forgiveness.”
His lips touched hers then in a gentle, affectionate kiss. It appeared to be his only intent as he began to pull back, but then it turned into a second, heartier kiss that sent a wave of tingles through Evylin’s veins. A spike of magic egged her on, drawing her to reach for him when a small splash of tea spilled over onto her hand.
Evylin jerked back, righting the cup. She intended only to set it on the table behind her, but then Deckard stepped away, a soft chuckle slipping out of him.
“I think,” he muttered, “that was good timing.”
“I don’t,” Evylin murmured.
“Mm.” Deckard stared at her, lips pressed together as though fighting an internal battle. Then he heaved a labored breath. “I’m going to bathe.”
Evylin opened her mouth to suggest he wait, but no words came out.
Deckard must have understood her intention anyway because he smiled tenderly at her. “Finish your tea,” he said. “When I come back, we’ll continue this...conversation, shall we?”
Without hesitation, Evylin nodded vehemently.
“Excellent,” Deckard said, turning and walking out of the room.
Evylin propped her elbow on the chair arm and dropped her head into her hand. Why did she feel like such an inept schoolgirl around him now? They were married. They were in love. They’d consummated their union two nights ago, removing all boundaries between them. And yet, the thought of taking him to her bed once more made her tongue thicken and her words flee. Was that normal?
A nervous laugh escaped her. She shook the thoughts off and sipped her tea in the empty room. Her anxieties wouldn’t matter, she knew. Once they started, things would take their natural course as they had at Renaul’s. She might begin with insecurity, but she’d end up in the blissful comfort of her husband’s embrace.
Smiling at the thought, Evylin let her mind wander to other things as she finished her tea. The Alliance meeting would start in four hours. She wondered what the hearing would entail. A recounting of their travel, Auden had said, and a request for additional support and members. Would the Alliance approve that request? If so, would they send Vayden and Isla with them alone, or would other members join their cause?
