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CHAPTER FIVE
LUCINDASTRETCHEDLIKEa cat, so warm and cosy that she smiled instinctively, blinking her eyes open slowly, fixing her gaze on the fire across the room, the flames low now, flicking the stack of wood lazily, no longer the frantic, tangling beast that had glowed red in the grate when Thirio had first built it. A different kind of heat built inside her now as she looked around the room, her eyes landing on him asleep in an armchair near the windows that framed another view of the enormous forest that surrounded the castle. The storm had cleared. The sky was still dark, but the rain had stopped, and in the distance she could just see tiny bits of blue peeking through.
Asleep, he was mesmerising. All the tension was gone from his face, so he looked so much more like the young man she’d seen photographs of on the Internet. Carefree and...happy. Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach swished. It felt wrong to stare at him in this unguarded moment, creepy to watch him sleep, and yet she couldn’t look away.
Her eyes devoured his face, curiosity driving her actions. Had the fire done this to him? Or was it the death of his parents? Or something else entirely?
‘Did nobody ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?’
She startled, guilt heating her cheeks as her gaze burst to his to see he was awake, watching her through eyes that were still half shuttered. The tension was back in his features, tightening them to the point of wariness.
‘I wasn’t staring,’ she lied unevenly. And despite the fact the duvet was pulled up to beneath her chin, she felt exposed now, as though he could see right through the fabric and her clothing, to her naked body.
Lucinda had not led a particularly adventurous life. She organised events from behind the scenes and worked tirelessly to support her stepmother and sisters. She did not travel for work; she did not attend the glamorous events herself. This was easily the strangest encounter of her entire life.
‘Yes, you were.’ He didn’t move, and yet he radiated tension, like a cat about to pounce.
‘Fine,’ she admitted after a beat. ‘I was. Is that a problem?’
She’d surprised him. Shelovedsurprising him. His eyes widened and his lips shifted, all so quickly it was easy to miss, but then he shrugged his shoulders and, despite the fact he was wearing a dark sweater, she could see him shirtless without any difficulty whatsoever. The image was burned into her retinas.
‘I’m not used to it.’
‘That’s because you live like a recluse.’
A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘You’ve woken up in a very honest mood.’
‘Honesty is my default setting.’
‘Is it?’ He skimmed her face, frowning, as if trying to understand if she was joking or not.
‘You don’t believe me? That’s ironic.’
A flicker of a smile curved his lips and she realised she liked to see him smiling even more than she liked surprising him. Oh, heaven help her. She was actuallyenjoyingbeing here with him.
It was just the novelty of it. Lucinda had been sheltered all her life. Not by choice—at least, not by her choice. She thought of the few times she’d dated in the past, and her heart was immediately heavy.
‘It’s also immaterial. After I take you off the mountain, I don’t imagine we’ll ever see one another again. What I think about you hardly seems to matter.’
Lucinda flinched. It wasn’t just his summation of their situation, but his cold delivery. He clearly couldn’t wait to see the back of her.
‘Let’s not forget, you came here under false pretences, so your claims of honesty seem a little far-fetched.’
‘What false pretences, exactly?’
‘That you work in event management.’
‘Idowork in event management,’ she snapped, pushing the duvet off and sitting up, brushing her hair out of her face simply so she could have something to do with her hands. She had to make him understand.
‘As an administrative assistant. That hardly makes you qualified to coordinate my sister’s wedding to the Prince of Nalvania.’
Lucinda had been underestimated many times, but, for some reason, hearing that from this man was particularly goading. ‘You’re wrong. I’m uniquely qualified.’
‘Because you are also an orphan?’
She winced. The words were cutting—intentionally so, she was sure of it. He was pushing her away.
‘Why are you trying to insult me?’
