Fate's Edge

A very sexy highwayman.

 

In her imagination, Audrey walked over to him. He gave her one of those wicked looks and stole her towel, sliding it off her to the floor. Kaldar ran his clever hands up her hips, over her sides, to her breasts. Audrey leaned back, letting him caress her. It felt so good. He rose and pulled off his T-shirt, baring a muscled torso. She wound her arms around him. He hugged her to him, his arms strong, his skin so hot it was nearly burning. His lips trailed the line of her pulse on her neck. The memory of the day faded from her head. The visions of blood and gore fled.

 

That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Yes, it would. She wanted to forget the ugliness and feel like she was still alive and safe. But then the morning would come, and all of that passion would have to be paid for.

 

She pointed at the door. “Out!”

 

“Audrey,” he purred.

 

“Out. I will let you back in when I’m dressed.”

 

He didn’t move.

 

Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. “Kaldar. Agent, pickpocket, rapist . . .”

 

“Oh, for Gods’ sakes, woman.” He got up and stalked out the door. She locked the dead bolt, pulled on sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, and unlocked the door. He was still in the hallway.

 

“May I come in now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He rolled his eyes and went inside. Audrey locked the door.

 

Kaldar examined her outfit. She wore plain black sweatpants and a T-shirt with a big black cat on it.

 

“When did you get these?”

 

She snorted. “I didn’t spend all of the money on those two suits. I also bought T-shirts, sweatpants, bras, panties . . .”

 

“White lacy panties?” he inquired. His voice was like velvet. She could’ve sworn there was magic in it, not the magic of the Edge or the Weird but some sort of male magic, the kind that made you fall asleep cuddled up with a big smile on your face.

 

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

 

Kaldar looked at the ceiling. “I came to ask you why.”

 

“Mmmm?”

 

“I want you, Audrey. I want you so badly, you are my first thought in the morning and my last at night.”

 

Oh, he is smooth.

 

Kaldar moved around her, maintaining the distance, stalking. He moved like a sword fighter: strong, sure, but graceful. Funny how she had never noticed it before.

 

“You kiss me like you want me, too. You thought about it. You pictured us together, making love.”

 

She smiled at him. Kaldar, you slick bandit, you.

 

“We’re both adults, we want each other, and there is nothing stopping us. Why aren’t we together?”

 

Audrey kept her smile firmly in place.

 

Kaldar paused. He was looking at her, at once loving, admiring, possessive, and yearning. She’d been hit with a few come-hither stares in her time, but this one left them all in the dust.

 

“Do you think I’d hurt you, Audrey? Are you afraid it won’t be good, and you won’t like it, because I promise you, you will.”

 

Kaldar, a man of low self-esteem, unassuming and humble.

 

“Help me out,” he said.

 

“I don’t think we should talk about this. I think you should go back to your room.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it will make things between us tense and difficult.”

 

“Things between us are already tense and difficult.” Kaldar planted himself between the bed and the door. “I’m not leaving.”

 

“You really want an answer?” Nothing good would come of it.

 

“Yes,” Kaldar said. “I do.”

 

“Okay. When I was little, my grandmother gave me this advice. She said, ‘Audrey, if you meet a man who is smooth, who says all the right things and knows all the tricks to make a woman happy, you’ve got to ask yourself how he got that way.’”

 

“I don’t understand,” Kaldar said.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Audrey put her hands on her hips. “You wanted this conversation, silver-tongue.”

 

“Thirty-two.”

 

“You have nine years on me, Kaldar. I bet most of your friends are married. They’re probably family men. Some of them have kids, others are thinking about it. Many probably bought their first houses a few years back. Why aren’t you married, Kaldar?”

 

He gave her an odd one-shouldered shrug. “Maybe I was waiting for the right girl.”

 

“Please.” For some reason, she felt like crying, which was completely stupid. “With your looks and your skills, I bet you’ve met plenty of girls. The right girl came and went, Kaldar. Probably more than once.”

 

“I’m confused. So you want us to be married, is that it?”

 

She actually had to fight the tears back. It took all of her skill to keep her expression pleasant. At least she hoped it was. “Don’t be silly. I can’t marry you. I don’t even know you. You change faces the way most people wear socks, every day a new pair. A charming rogue, an arrogant businessman, a caring uncle, a slick thief . . . You pull them off and on at will. I don’t even know if I’ve glimpsed the real you in this masquerade. Ask me what the real Kaldar is like. What does he want, what does he need, what sort of man is he, and I can’t tell you. Do you even know which one of these roles is the real you?”

 

He remained silent.

 

“Before I take a man into my bed, I need to know him. I want to trust him and like him. You are the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Without a doubt. The best pickpocket. The best swordsman. And you’re a genius conman. You’d run circles around the best grifters I know. My father would have no chance. You’d get him to sign over his house for a snowball in January.”

 

“So that’s it,” he said quietly. “You think I’m conning you, Audrey?”

 

“No. I know you are conning me.” Audrey shrugged. “Kaldar, you stole my cross. You treated me like a mark. You have no respect for me.”

 

Ilona Andrews's books