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Gabriel gave her a dry look. “I considered the price of the barge well spent in recovering that investment. And would you stop saying I bought you? I paid the application fee to the Betrothal Trials, that’s all.”
“It’s the same thing,” she noted, hefting her satchel and carrying it aboard.
He caught her arm as she went past, his grip firm, exciting the longing for him she’d been fighting to suppress. “Lady Veronica,” he said, spacing his words so he’d sound patient, though his frustration with her simmered beneath, “I thought we agreed you’d stop with these remarks.”
He was right and she knew it. She was just so pissed at herself. The night before had been a mistake. Not only had she turned down what was likely her last opportunity to escape the man, she’d gotten tipsy—she blamed the exhaustion—and chatted merrily with her lord and master. She couldn’t even remember everything they’d discussed, except that she’d been all kinds of forthcoming.Congenial conversation, she sneered to herself. Clearly another trap for the unwary.
But he hadn’t made any move to have sex with her. There had been some moments when she’d been sure he’d been about to lay hands on her, and she’d teetered on the fine edge of terror and desire, poised to flee—or kneel in abject submission. Now that she was in his presence again, the Fascination grew by the moment. She shivered with need just being near him. When he looked at her that certain way, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in his lap. He’d called her beautiful once, and the caress of his wizard-black eyes actually made her feel that way. Her skin remembered his touch, craving it and prickling to attention at his nearness. She hungered to have him inside her. For him to whisper those sweet words in her ear.
Probably she should just stop fighting the pull and enjoy being possessed. Her familiar nature clearly craved it from him. When he’d held her leash in his hands, the rush of desire had nearly overwhelmed her. Then he’d tossed it away, making the choice not to touch her. She’d been almost disappointed. Even now, she wanted to lean into his grip on her arm, taste his mouth, and give herself over to those strong hands. Be his.
“Let me go,” she said, and what had sounded like a cool command in her head came out as a breathy plea. In her mind, she begged him, not to release, but to take and—
But he complied immediately, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. “Besides,” he said, gaze lingering on her mouth, as if he’d been thinking about kissing her, “the dowry your father promised more than compensates for my application fee. If anything, you bought me.”
That perspective was so absurd that the anger at least cleared her desire-fogged mind. She nearly retorted that Convocation law didn’t see it that way, but he was right—unless she wanted to explain herself, she had to stop sniping at him. Too bad, as reminding both of them of her status kept her anger and resolve alive—a necessary reminder of why she couldn’t give in to her Fascination with him. And Elal didn’t give up without a fight. She’d about worn the fangs to a nub on the copper snake bracelet.
When she didn’t reply, he took the satchel from her and put it inside the ramshackle cabin perched in the middle of the otherwise empty barge, then began divesting Vale of his tack. There was an overhang for Vale to keep him dry, and a manger that Gabriel filled with hay, a bucket of water attached. The rain had slackened, but it still drizzled enough to make the weather miserable. Nic explored the barge, which didn’t take long, empty as it was, then checked out the little cabin. It was small but would keep them dry. There were benches to sit on, and a couple of cots for sleeping. Overall, the arrangement was not conducive to her resolve to avoid Gabriel as much as possible.
“There’s no elemental pilot,” she told Gabriel when he entered the cabin. He unclasped the House Phel brooch holding his cloak closed, pocketed it, then hung the water-beaded garment on a hook to dry beside her own poor garment. He took a moment to finger the threadbare cloth of her cloak.
“You need a warmer cloak,” he said. “Meresin isn’t as wintry as Elal, but the journey there will be cold.”
“Yes, well, a girl fleeing for her life doesn’t exactly get a choice of cloaks,” she returned, then pointed a finger at him. “Don’t give me thatlook. That wasn’t sniping at you or my status as your familiar. Unless you want to forbid me from saying anything butplease, sir, andthank you, sir, then you…” She trailed off, realizing that he could indeed command exactly that.
Gabriel strode over to her, jaw clenched. But, though he reached for her, he stopped short of seizing her again. Still, menace coiled around her in sharp silver swirls. Curse her, that sense of menace only aroused her need further.
“I wouldnever,” he said in a harshly quiet voice, the anger in it so intense that she’d almost prefer that he shouted. “I saw how your father silenced your mother. I remember what you said, about your suitor who barely spoke to you except to give instructions. I’m not that man. I’ve neveroncegiven you any reason to believe I’d treat you that way.” He took a deep breath and a step back, his hands in fists by his side. “I don’t know what I did to cause you to loathe me as you clearly do, that you think so little of me, but I’ve never told you to not to speak. In fact, I’ve practically begged you to talk to me.”
Swamped by shame at his words, and helplessly drawn to his ferocity, Nic had to steel herself not to plead with him to forgive her. “I know,” she managed to squeak out.
He looked past her, steadying himself, then focused on her again. “I only asked that you drop these slicing hints and insults because you seem to be using them instead of explaining why you jeopardized everything to escape me. Were you truly fleeing for your life?” His black gaze searched her face. “You can tell me. I want to know the truth. I want to help you.”
She took a breath. Let it out again. What would he say if she told him?You can’t help me because you are the danger. I ran because I’m already Fascinated beyond redemption. I’m halfway in love with you, and when I fall completely, you’ll own me in every way. I won’t ever be able to tell you no or deny your least wish.If she told him that, he’d know the power he held over her. The legalities were nothing compared to his emotional and sexual hold on her.
Perhaps that’s why the Convocation continued to prefer the Betrothal Trials, it occurred to her. Yes, it proved fertility, but if the Fascination was sparked by the sexual pull, then it would subdue a willful familiar all the faster. Still, she was more than a sexual being. She had a mind and a will, and she would not willingly hand him the tools to reduce her to ultimate submission.
“I enjoy your wit,” he finally said when she managed to say nothing, his smile wry, “even when it’s aimed at me. I don’t want you silenced. I findcongenial conversationwith you most stimulating.”
Despite everything, she couldn’t help wanting to return that smile. “Good thing, as we might be on this barge for the rest of our lives—they go that slow. And this one looks more rickety than most.”
“The price was nicely low,” he told her. “But maybe it can be fixed up for House Phel to use for that export trade you’re dreaming up.”
Nic surveyed the dilapidated cabin, happy enough to take the change of topic. “I would hope it was cheap, the shape it’s in. I’m frankly surprised it’s afloat. Besides which, my initial point remains pertinent: We’re going nowhere without an elemental pilot. The one that brought you here must’ve been improperly bound because it’s gone.”
He grinned, the smile lighting his face, which otherwise tended toward solemn. “The barge was cheaper without it, and you don’t need a puny elemental when you have a water wizard.” He pointed out the porthole, and Nic registered with considerable surprise that the last of the Port Anatole harbor was streaming past. The barge was gliding, so smoothly she hadn’t felt it, and about ten times faster than any other barge she’d seen.
“You’re moving us?”
“I’m moving the water, anditis moving the barge along,” he corrected, clearly enjoying himself.
“How long can you withstand the magic drain, though?”
“I did all right getting to Port Anatole. Going fast also means I don’t have to sustain the magic as long.”
“No wonder you caught me so fast,” she muttered.
“It took me an extra half-day to purchase the barge or I would have gotten to you sooner.” He lifted a hand, slowly, and when she didn’t flinch, he stroked the bruised skin of her throat. “I wanted to get to you before the hunters did. I’m sorry that I failed you, that they hurt you.”
