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He laughed.
“And I can see you circling, eyeing your next prey.”
He stilled, his stare fixing on her. “So what if I am?”
“I am not your next meal, Rune. You offered to accompany me. Jules and Des thought it appropriate for some godforsaken reason—”
“You need to be protected.”
“What I need and what they think I need are two different things.”
“You need to be protected. You don’t have the slightest inkling what you’re holding onto.” His finger flicked out, pointing at the lump in the left-side pocket of her skirts.
Shifting onto her right thigh, she fished the Box of Draupnir out of the left side of her skirt. She flipped the box about in her fingers, staring at it. “And you do?”
“More than most.”
She swung the top of the box open and stared at the ring of entwined golden strands and the stark ruby set in the middle of it. The wood grew straight through the middle of the ring so there was no way to remove the ring, or so she assumed. Maybe that was just another secret of the box she didn’t understand.
Her look lost in the deep red of the stone, she attempted to feel something—anything—of its magical powers. A tingle down her spine. A dark shadow over her brain. She knew she was missing something when it came to the box. Everyone else claimed the air around them changed, that the box did something to them—made them want to possess it.
She felt nothing. An odd duck, as usual.
Elle swung the lid closed and held the box out to Rune. “So why don’t you take it and get it to its home?”
He visibly recoiled, his palms lifting to her. “It’s not my place to do so.”
“But what if I made it your place, entrusted you with it? If Jules and Des trusted you to protect me, I’m sure they would trust you to take control of the box.”
“Put the box away. I don’t want it.” His head shaking, Rune’s mouth had pulled into a severe line. “While you’re fearless when it comes to the curse, I have seen it tear down too many men. I will help you find the box’s origins, I will protect you until it is delivered, but that is all. I can never take possession of it.”
“So you’re afraid of it?”
He nodded, his stare not leaving the box she still held up between them. “Aye. That I am.”
She withdrew the box, slipping it into her pocket, trying to ignore the cold shiver snaking along her spine.
That Rune had just reacted so strongly to the box didn’t sit well with her.
He knew so much more than what he was saying.
Which left her with one unsettling thought.
What had she gotten herself into with the box—with him?
{ Chapter 8 }
Rune stepped out of the south door of the Raplan dower house.A manor that loomed over lush, finely manicured gardens, it celebrated the symmetry and proportion of ancient Greek architecture, with its minimalized adornment that highlighted the impeccable red-tinged ashlar stonework.
Not modest, as so many dower houses were.
For as much as Elle claimed she was the ignored member of the Raplan family, she was still afforded luxury about her that most could only dream of.
Two days in the carriage with her and they’d stepped onto the Isle of Wight from the ferry the previous night without even a whisper of another ambush. To his own detriment, he’d grown far too accustomed to looking at her face in those days, watching the quirk of her mouth, enjoying the small, but unique, bump along the tip of her nose. She was damned entrancing and he’d let his gaze drift far too many times down her body during the long hours.
But he’d woken up clearheaded this morning, redetermined to get into the Roman baths, discover what he could about the origin of the box, and then he could move on from this place. From her.
He couldn’t afford to get diverted by thoughts of what he’d like to do to Elle’s body. Rampant, bawdy imagery like that was fine to pass the time when they were stuck in a carriage together, but those hours of leisure were behind him.Hadto be behind him.
