And now to see her bronze skin flushed and rosy hued, her hair slipping haphazardly across her face, dangerous thoughts intruded in on him, like how to keep her. Was it even possible? Could they take down Crispin without her magic to aid them?
She sighed. “I was only thinking of a silly story.”
“Were you now, and would you no care to share with all of us?” Rupert asked.
John chuckled and sipped at his tankard of ale. “If you start the sharing, lass, just know that Rupert loves a good yarn and you’ll no be able to get away from him for a good two to three hours until the full telling of it.”
Her laughter was infectious. That sound was so light and carefree, that it wasn’t just him affected by it. All his men leaned forward, even John, smiling back at her. And if Robin hadn’t known better, he’d have thought her the Pied Piper herself, for she held them all spellbound.
Her fingers traced the grilled meat on her plate, and he’d never been more envious of a stupid piece of food as he was then.
“Well, I guess since we have nothing else to do, I’ll tell you. There was once a man and a woman”—her eyes caught Robin’s and her smile was shy as she said—“and this is a story of how they fell in love.”
It was like a fist to his gut.
Was she admitting to being in love with him? He was sure he felt something…well, something more than mere lust with her. But love wasn’t a word he was comfortable using yet. Though their souls and bodies understood they’d been crafted one for the other, love wasn’t instantaneous in Kingdom. It was inevitable, but not always immediate.
“Love,” Callum snorted.
“Oh, but not just any kind of love.” She held up a finger. “This is a story of intrigue. Forbidden lusts. And murder.”
With those words she held his men in the palm of her hand.
“Once upon a time,” she began, “a long, long time ago, there lived a genie named, well…” She chuckled. “Jinni.”
That was the moment Robin realized three things.
One. She was a master storyteller. Better than most. She had a way with her words, a way that painted vivid pictures so that one not only heard the story, but saw it in their mind’s eye.
Rupert stuttered with wide eyes several minutes later, “And what happened then? Was he found?”
She gave him a sad little smile. “Jinni was tossed to the ground by the sultan’s guards, reaching out for his lover, but she denounced him. Screaming that he’d murdered their king.”
Gasps sounded all around. Even John was riveted by the story, barely lifting his tankard to his lips, as if to move would make him miss a moment of her tale.
The second thing Robin realized was that in her own roundabout way, she was telling the men in the only way she knew how, her history. Her story. Who she really was. They’d never know the gift she shared with them, for she could never reveal that she was the daughter of the couple, but he knew, and it was enough.
“The giant metal bird crashed to the ground, killing almost everyone within its bowels instantly, save for a woman named Paz—”
“A metal bird,” Rupert breathed, “was it the same one as transported that man from before?”
She lifted her brows and smiled. “Um, quite similar, yes. Anyhow.” She lifted her hand, making an arcing motion. “It crashed with the violence of an avalanche. But Paz was pulled from the wreckage by a golem. A man made of wax, who many claimed had no heart, no soul left him, and yet”—her eyes flickered to Robin’s—“they were bound from the moment their eyes met.”
The third thing Robin knew was that he could never imagine a life without her in it…
Chapter 14
They lay under the stars. Nixie hadn’t thought it a smart move to sleep together within the tight confines of the tent. Her body still ached. The drink and story time had done wonders for her peace of mind, but she was still horny as hell. And at least out in the open, she wouldn’t be tempted to initiate anything else with him.
Robin laid sleeping beside her, with his arms crossed in an X formation upon his slowly rising and falling chest. The rest of the men were in their tents, and all of the campfires had been extinguished except for theirs. It didn’t really give off any heat, though, it was too small, but it did give her a little light to see by.
The stars tonight seemed almost unreal. Glowing like tiny jeweled dagger tips. For the first time in a long time, she wondered what her parents were doing. Dad had always loved stargazing. Growing up, it’d been a hobby she’d developed an affinity for herself.
“Thank you for the story tonight,” Robin said.
She glanced over at him. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Can’t.” He rolled onto his side, his blue eyes intense and moody. “I can’t stop thinking.”
“Me either,” she ruefully admitted.
His knuckles grazed her cheek. She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch even as she wanted to cry from it too. From the hollow ache she felt whenever she thought about their limited time together.
“What are you thinking about, my pet?”
Sex.