“My business took longer than anticipated. And I have to leave again soon to meet with the other Masters.”
She nodded, unsure why he would feel the need to come all this way just to tell her he was leaving again. He walked toward her, his fluid, powerfully masculine stride making her body come alive with awareness. With desire that had only been banked since she’d been away from him, but not yet extinguished.
He walked closer, until there were only a few scant inches between them. God, he smelled good. And he looked good—even better than the memories she’d been reliving with torturous repetition in the days since she’d left Ebarron.
Hope flared in her, bright and sharp. She didn’t dare trust that feeling. Not when he still hadn’t said anything to her. Hadn’t reached out to her. His handsome face was sober. More solemn than she’d ever seen him.
“I heard about your grandmother’s passing, Asha. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “Gran died in her sleep the night after I came home. She was happy, at peace in her final moments.”
There was so much she wanted to tell Sorin now. That she was sorry for how she’d arrived at Ebarron, what she’d intended to do once she got there. That he’d been right about the pendant—it was something more than just an heirloom. Something much more. Something precious and rare, though she couldn’t begin to understand what the true value of Inanna’s Tear might be.
And more than anything, she wanted to tell Sorin that she’d cherished every moment she’d spent with him and regretted every one they’d been apart.
She swallowed. “I want you to know that I never would’ve betrayed you. Not after you and I—not after everything we shared. You have to know that I would’ve left the pendant behind—”
“I didn’t come here for your apology, Asha. None of that matters to me.”
“Why, then?”
He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze intense, contemplative. “Someone once called me a selfish, pompous jackass devoid of compassion. That same someone implied I was a cheat, that I would resort to tricks or games to get what I wanted.”
Ashayla shook her head. “No. That was before I knew you—”
“You were right,” he said, his deep voice level, unreadable. “I am selfish. Pompous too, though it pains me to admit it. And a jackass? Well…you’ve seen enough firsthand evidence to attest to that.”
She bit her lip, giving him a small shrug. “But you have compassion, Sorin. You proved that to me when you gave me Gran’s pendant, even after I lost our wager.”
“You didn’t lose, Asha.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You didn’t lose, because there was no wager to be won.” His mouth lifted at one corner, a wicked smirk. “Which brings me to the charge of cheat.”
“What are you talking about? We made a deal. You said if we had sex—”
He moved closer now, and reached out to smooth his hand over her loose platinum hair. “I said, sweet Asha, that I would prove you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I said I’d have you begging for me before the night was through.”
“And you did,” she admitted, feeling the rush of desire flood her just to be near him again. “You proved your point and I lost. You didn’t trick me. I know you didn’t use the thrall to seduce me. There was no need for that, Sorin.”
He grunted, grinning now. “You did lose that part of our wager. Spectacularly, I might add. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
“I have?”
He gave a serious nod. “You ruined me from the moment I first laid eyes on you in my casino. Before that, in fact. From the first letter you wrote to me. And all the ones that followed.”
The confession sent her heart into a gallop behind her sternum. Could he possibly feel the same way she did? That the few hours they spent together hadn’t been enough—would never be enough?
Could he possibly care about her as deeply as she did about him?
Her excitement nearly diverted her from the other subject at hand. “What do you mean, there was no wager to be won? How did you—” And then it dawned on her. “Back at the roulette table. You rigged the wheel?”
“Not me, but my croupier knew what I needed him to do.” Sorin shrugged, unapologetic. Unrepentantly Incubus. “I told you I was a man who liked to win.”
She gasped in outrage and smacked her palm on his powerful chest. “You cheated! With Korda Marakel too?”
“No, he lost to the House fair and square. You were the only prize I truly couldn’t stand to lose that night.” He pulled her against him, their faces less than a breath apart. “Do you forgive me?”
Ashayla looked into his mesmerizing eyes, eyes that held her with such care and emotion her chest was near to bursting. “I more than forgive you. I love you, Sorin.”