He held up a finger, which only made her cock a fine brow, as if to say “You sure about that?”
The corner of his lip stretched. “And if you imagine I’m not aware of your unsavory past”—he stressed the word—“then you couldn’t be more wrong.”
A flash of heat crawled through her rich brown eyes.
“Nothing to say now?”
Her lips tightened. “I don’t like you at all.”
“That’s what they all say.” He shrugged, enjoying himself more than he probably should. “Though I should warn you…” He purposefully left the sentence dangling.
Robin could tell she didn’t want to ask. Nix crossed her arms and tapped her foot, seeming determined to wait him out, but when he said nothing, she finally tossed up her hands, “Well?”
“Just wanted to see if you’d take the bait.”
“God, you’re annoying.” She glared. “So are you going to tell me or what?”
He shrugged. “I really had nothing more to say; like I said, just trying to see if you were paying attention.”
“Get bent, asshole.”
Laughing heartily now, Robin sauntered toward the twisted trunk of a large elm tree and settled himself against it, crossing his legs at the ankles. “That sounded positively foul, pet.”
“Ugh.” She groused, following close on his heels.
“What? Do you not care for my new name? You said I was not to call you a dark genie, or creature, I thought pet a suitable substitute.”
Her long, jet-black lashes feathered against the rich, bronze hues of her skin when she closed her eyes, making his pulse quicken for a brief second in time. Goddess, but she was exquisite.
“Why not just call me Nixie? It’s my name.” She sat down before him, the movement causing the fabric of her pants to stretch, revealing long expanses of her shapely thighs, making his mouth instantly water.
But more than that, there was a band that seemed to stretch between them now. Connected them. When she’d held his hands earlier, that band hadn’t snapped yet. It made him incredibly aware of her every movement, her every look, the true meaning beneath her words.
She’d sounded hurt just now and for reasons he could hardly comprehend, it bothered him to hear it.
He sighed. “I am sorry for my earlier treatment of you.”
She jerked as if she’d been slapped. “What? Now you’re confusing me.” Her long fingers flitted through the thick blades of grass by her feet.
“Not used to hearing apologies?”
“Not really. Especially not from my masters.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps I’m like no other master you’ve ever known.”
She began fidgeting, then glanced over her shoulder, taking in their surroundings.
Robin had chosen this particular place because of its isolation, yes, but also because he thought she might like it. One thing he’d learned from leading such a large group of men on his own was that you never bite the hand that feeds. His men were loyal because he was good to them, and in return they’d do anything he asked of them. Even lay down their lives.
He’d have to do much the same with her; the quickest way to subdue a wild beast was to feed it honey. Figuratively speaking. So he fed her honey. He would show her his good and his bad sides. He would be absolutely transparent with her. Make her see that he might be grouchy at times, and even on occasion broody and mysterious, but not wicked, not cruel.
Ergo, the bucolic setting they new found themselves in.
Women liked “pretty” things, and this place was pretty. There was a gurgling brook, wildflowers growing in abundance. Shade from aged trees, and even a couple of robins flitting through the sky to make it even more picturesque.
He slipped a yellow apple out of a hidden pocket in his shirt before offering it to her. “Apple?”
“What are you doing?”
Grabbing her hand, he flipped it over, and placed the apple in her palm. “Calling a ceasefire. We got off on the wrong foot earlier.”
“Just like that?” She snapped her fingers, and then took a large bite out of the apple, as if in defiance, which only made his grin broaden.
He shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’d rather I growl. Though should you wish it—”
“Of course I don’t want you to be a bastard. That’s not what I’m saying.” Her scowl grew deeper.
Taking out another apple for himself—the pocket had been crafted from a sliver of spelled cloth Robin had stolen from Crispin’s personal squire three years ago—Robin took a bite of the sweet treat. “Then what exactly are you saying, pet?”
She sighed, but didn’t snap at him this time. The creature was learning. His lips twitched.
Taking another more leisurely bite, she nodded. “So that’s what this is.”
It was his turn to give her a questioning look. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Oh, come on,” she snorted, “let’s not play this game. I’ve been around the block a few times. This apple.” She stretched her arm out. “The scenery. This is a bribe.”
Smart.
Very, very smart.