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His forbidding expression immediately softened. “That was harsh of me.” He raked a hand through his damp hair, disordering her careful work. “I know you’re not trying to manipulate me.”
But it was more true than he knew.
“It’s just that…” He trailed off, seeing something in her face. “I won’t use you, Nic. Not for sex, not for magic, not for anything. Idowant you. Even if you put on those cosmetics and a pretty dress, I couldn’t want you more than I already do.” He gestured to his erection with chagrin. “It was foolish of me to try to hide that from you. But wanting you isn’t enough.”
“No?” Humiliation boiled into something hotter. “It was enough for you when you planted your seed in me. Remember thatyouengaged in the Betrothal Trials. Willingly,” she added, spitting out the word.
“I know that,” he ground out, “and believe me, I regret that night with everything in me.”
Oh. Ouch.That revelation shouldn’t hurt so much. She regretted that night, too, didn’t she? After all, she’d wrecked her life, her relationship with Papa and her entire house to escape it. To escape him. She opened her mouth to tell him so and found she had no words.
Gabriel scrubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
“Don’t apologize for being honest,” she managed to say.
He cursed viciously, then caught her hand, holding it in both of his, holding her gaze with his. “I’m saying this badly. If I’ve learned anything since I was thrust into being a wizard, it’s that I have to control the magic, or it will control me. With you…” He shook his head at himself. “The magic and the sex seem to intertwine.”
“I know,” she breathed. “For me, too.”
He nodded, as if she’d confirmed something for him. “I don’t know where the one stops and the other starts. Until we figure it out, I’m not taking that risk.”
“What risk?”
He regarded her somberly. “That anything I do could make you like Daniel or Narlis.”
“I wouldn’t be.”
“Are you sure?” He searched her eyes. “Something scared you enough that you ran.”
The man was too perceptive. And she still wasn’t discussing her reasons. “Have it your way,” she said evenly.
He winced. “Nic, I—”
“May I at least salve your wounds?” she interrupted.
Hesitating only a moment, he nodded, then turned his back. “Yes, please.”
As she smoothed the salve over the remarkably healed wounds—all closed with nicely pink flesh—she commented. “We’ll need someone to take the stitches out soon.”
He grunted in agreement. “There’s a healer in Meresin who can do that.”
“How long before we get there?” There. Having a perfectly natural conversation.
“Two days should get us there,” he replied in the same conversational tone. Weren’t they just so polite?
“Thank you,” he said when she finished, his expression grave as he faced her again. He looked tired, and she kicked herself for testing him when he needed sleep so badly. Lifting a finger, he caressed her collarbones where she knew the bruises glared with purple sullenness. “I’m sorry for this, for everything you’ve had to go through.”
Throat going tight, she nodded, not trusting her voice.
He feathered his fingers over her cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy,” he said, searching her face. “I wanted you to enjoy this evening, and now I’ve ruined it.”
She took a deliberate step back, unable to bear either his touch or his sympathy. Pasting on a bright smile, she picked up her book. “Not at all. I have my new book, plenty of wine, an endless supply of hot water, and clean clothes to put on. I’m happy as a fire elemental in a bale of hay.”
His mouth quirked ruefully. “Should I expect to be burned to ash in my sleep?”
“Never,” she promised, summoning a flirtatious smile. “I’d wake you up first, so you’d suffer more.”
He let out a laugh. “Enjoy your bath. Linger as long as you like.”
