Page 65 of A Lie so Pretty and Poisonous

“Of course. I am quite hungry.”

A book about mead ended up in the hands of militia members. This brought more questions than answers. I desperately wanted to ask more about the book and look through the pages, but I couldn’t press the issue. Gabriel couldn’t know I was searching for a way home. Especially now that I told him I would think about staying in Tironaill. An empty promise I intended to play out for as long as I could.

Waves of long ash-brown hair floated around me as my head hovered just above the surface of the jasmine-scented water. I could have happily spent eternity in the giant clawfoot tub. My muscles loosened as each minute passed, easing the soreness and lulling me into a dreamy comfort. I had never been so sore in all my life. Shoulders, legs, stomach, and even my little toes. It was all the byproduct of finding my strength and taking back my power. I loved the feel of it. It reminded me that I worked hard. Proof that I was another step toward being able to defend myself and Cora.

The soak was just what I needed before enduring a trip to the market with Gabriel. I would have to keep my noble mask in place all day. A tedious and draining necessity. When I asked Gabriel to teach me to fight if Darragh couldn’t, he insisted I didn’t need to learn any more defense techniques because he would be able to protect me. He stated, “A lady shouldn’t have to resort to rolling around in the dirt.” Fine. I would practice the moves Darragh taught me on my own time. I was not giving up.

Before Gabriel’s raging tantrum, something shifted between Darragh and me. We let go of the masks we both hid behind. His thumb caressing my lips as we stared at each other unlocked a need in me that went beyond pleasure. It was a desire to keep tugging on the connection that formed between us until it wound around us so tightly that we couldn’t escape it. I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on mine and to see where his hands might have wandered to if given the chance. I shouldn’t feel like this. I needed to dowse whatever this was. Clotha was busy weaving a huge distraction to place in my path, and I wished she would turn her attention elsewhere.

A low thrum moved between my thighs at the thought of him. The way he looked at me made my hair stand on end even in the heat of the bath. I could still feel his calloused hands on my face, wiping away my tears. I wondered if hands that took life so readily could give pleasure with the same ease. I glided my fingers down my torso, landing between my legs as delicious need built. I conjured an image of Darragh running his lips and tongue over my breasts and down my stomach, making my breathing hitch. My eyes fluttered closed. I slipped a finger inside myself, and I softly moaned as I recounted how he straddled me and held my arms to the ground, the muscles of his thighs tightening, his own hunger growing inside him.

I imagined how he would feel thrusting inside of me, the heat and tingling building between my legs as I put pressure on my clit. I swirled my fingers over and over, stroke for stroke, as my imagination conjured images of how amazing he would feel buried inside me. How his calloused hands would grip my hips on each thrust, with his eyes locked onto mine, and the way my name rolled off his tongue as he stiffened and climaxed. My body went rigid at the thought, and I grabbed onto the edge of the tub with my other hand as I tipped myself over the precipice of my desire, shuddering as an orgasm coursed through me. I let out soft pants as the waves eased.

“Rory?” A voice came from the room beyond the door of the bathing chamber.

My desire was immediately dissipated. I stiffened for a moment before I realized it was Gabriel.

“Just a moment!” Water sloshed over the side of the tub as I stood in haste. “I am just getting out of the bath.”

Why would he let himself back into my rooms? He took Cora to her lessons and said he wouldn’t return for a while.

I dried as quickly as possible and threw on a flimsy linen robe, the only one available. Peeking through a crack in the door, Gabriel stood in the sitting area, which I would have to cross to get to the bedroom. I poked my head out, hiding my body behind the door.

“Gabriel. I thought you wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours.”

His posture shifted toward me, relaxed and unaware of my discomfort. “Yes, well, I decided that whatever I needed to do could wait. I assigned it to someone else. You are my priority today.”

“Oh…um…great,” I sputtered. “It’s just that I need to get to my bedroom to dress, and I am not comfortable walking through here in nothing but a thin robe while you are present. Could I ask you to step out for a few minutes?”

“My manners.” He inclined his head. “Yes, I shall give you a moment.”

“Thank you.”

“I left something for you on your bed.” He smiled, and I watched as he strode out the door.

The cooler air of the room chilled my legs as I practically ran into my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. On the bed lay a dress. Flower. Petal. Pink.

UGH!

I could choose not to put it on. I didn’t want to be dressed like a doll and be told what to wear and when to wear it. An expectation of a noblewoman. Not only did the color make me stand out like a sore thumb, but the fabric was impractical. I should be wearing cottons, linens, and wools while traversing the city and countryside. This was satin over tulle—very unforgiving while riding, easily dirtied, and not warm for autumn air.

I put the damn thing on. Our need for safety outweighed my disdain for anyone telling me what to do…and pink. I felt ridiculous in it. I opted to put leggings underneath to keep me warm and to expose less of my legs if the dress shifted up while on horseback. I plaited my hair simply, not wanting to look any more dressed up than I was.

The door to the room opened and closed again, and I walked out to Gabriel’s face, alight at the sight of me. “Rory, you look stunning.” His eyes moved up and down my body. He shook his head to clear his ogling. “Forgive me. You always take my breath away.”

Most women would melt over so many compliments. I found them exhausting and disingenuous. “Thank you.” I tried to put on my best smile.

Gabriel offered me his arm. “Shall we?”

Mask on, Rory.

I grabbed my thickest cloak and out the door we went.

Gabriel was stunned to learn that Celeste had taken off after an unfortunate “accident” that threw me from her. He offered to have me ride with him, but I, probably too quickly, declined, taking the first available horse offered to me by my favorite gnarled-fingered stable hand. Ketlus was unusually quiet today as he readied our horses.

“Thank you, Ketlus. It is always a pleasure seeing you.” I took the reins of a black gelding from him. I missed Celeste.

“Same to you, my lady.” His response was more formal and gruffer than normal, and he limped off as quickly as possible.