Page 11

“I do enjoy sporting with women. As they enjoy sporting with me. But surely you would not decry finding pleasure in the act. As a Garra.”

He drinks, clearly pleased with himself. His men are likely listening to every word we speak, so I do not indulge him. My thoughts on the pleasure between a man and a woman are mine alone.

Although I do have thoughts, and plenty of them, on the matter.

“I did not mean sporting of a sexual nature, as you well know.”

“My apologies, my lady. I am a sexual creature and find such thoughts too often occupy me. Perhaps you can help me find a cure?”

While I could offer such help, and have done so before as a Garra, I do not for one moment believe he is doing anything other than . . .

Sporting?

Teasing?

Oh dear. Truly it does not matter. I did not come here to flirt with the man but to learn more of his intentions toward Kipp.

“I could, but will not.”

“Mmm. ’Tis a shame. Perhaps I could be persuaded to tell you more of our mission here if you were to allow me to retain your services.”

My mouth forms into a wide O, my jaw nearly dropping to the ground.

“You would not?”

I say it even though I very much believe he would hold his purpose here hostage.

“Aye,” he says. “I would.”

My mind works quickly. As much as I would like to gain access to his information, I could never agree to such an outrageous proposal.

First, he has no actual ailment, only a contrived one.

Second, my father would never agree to it.

Third, his intentions are not clear to me.

“Why do you make such an offer?”

Is he a lecher after all? I do not believe so, but what other reason could he have? The commander has no way of knowing I am aware of the circumstances of Kipp’s birth. Few people are aware the king has a bastard son, although he has clearly informed his Curia. If the commander is not using me to gain access to Kipp, why does he want me to treat an ailment he does not possess?

“You intrigue me,” he says.

I watch for signs of ill intent. Of dishonesty.

But he does not look away. Nor does he use his hands overly much after saying those words that set my heart to racing. His voice is strong, his eyes equally so.

“I do not like you.” While not a lie, it is also not precisely the truth.

“Perhaps one of the reasons I am intrigued,” he says, his lips tipping up.

“Nor do I believe you need treatment.”

“There is but one way for you to find out.”

Father will kill me.

“My fee is high.”