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“How old were you when you lost your parents?”
“Ten.”
She pursed her lips in sympathy. “I was seven when my mom died. Do you remember much about them?” She had vague memories of her mother. Each day she worried she’d forgotten something new about her…her smile or the way her hair had smelled.
“This is what you want to talk about?”
“Does it bother you?”
He shook his head unconvincingly. “I just have no’ spoken of them in so long.”
“Me either. Dad never wanted to talk about Mom. I think it hurt him too much to remember. And there was never really anyone else who knew her like we did. We can change the subject if you want.”
After a silent moment, he said, “They were farmers.”
“That’s a noble profession.”
He gave her a brows-drawn look, as if suspecting her of sarcasm.
“A friend from my youth lived on a farm,” she said. “One week, I stayed with her while my father was away, and I helped her with her chores. Feeding all the animals. Milking the cows. It’s hard work.”
His expression relaxed. “It is. I recall very little from that time in my life, but that I do remember. If nothing else, my parents instilled in me a strong work ethic. Without it, I would no’ have been able to climb the ranks to become head of the guard.”
“Oh? You don’t think your adopted relations had any influence?”
“Nay. I was no’ given any slack. In fact, I had to work harder to prove my worth.”
Nothing was more attractive than a man of strong character, or more sexy than one who knew the value of hard work. Rugged handsomeness didn’t hurt, either. Right now, Orik was pushing all her buttons.
When she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, he followed the movement with his eyes, his gaze intensifying once more.
Teasingly, she cleared her throat, unable to keep the smile off her lips.
He lifted his head and scowled. “I’ll be taking that blade now.”
Sighing, she pushed out of her seat and crossed to the decorative vase situated in one corner, retrieving her Ka-Bar from inside it. When she turned around, she was surprised to find him standing behind her. She hadn’t heard him move.
He slipped the blade from her grip and tucked it into an inner vest pocket. “Clever girl. That wouldn’t have been thefirstplace I’d have checked, though it wouldn’t have been the last, either.”
“Next time I’ll find a better hiding spot.”
He took an aggressive step forward and gripped the back of her neck, crowding her with his size and forcing her to look up at him. “There will no’ be a next time.”
“Just joshin’ ya.” Her heartbeat hastened, yet she felt no fear, only exhilaration. When his head cocked to one side at her words—he probably couldn’t translate them—she asked, “Why didn’t you want your family to know I had it?”
He released her and stepped back. “Because they did no’ need to worry needlessly.”
“Just so you know, they wouldn’t have needed to worry even if I’d been picking my teeth with it at dinner. I wouldn’t hurt anyone here.”
“Then why this insistence on taking it?”
She lifted her chin. “Because it’s mine.” But there was more to it than that. Somewhere deep within her was a growing need to keep the blade near. An urge like none she had felt before. Because it was the last vestige of her father? Her home? A relic from her time with him? Or was it due to her uncertain footing here in this new world, and keeping it near made her feel more secure? She couldn’t say for sure. She only knew that it felt imperative.
His narrowed gaze swept her face. “Just so you know, nothing here belongs to you unless I say it does. You think I would leave the blade in your keeping for even a moment? A stranger who has already proven untrustworthy?”
“Untrustworthy? How so? Because I went for a walk?”
“Because you disobeyed a direct order.”
