The covers rustled as she rolled to her side, and oh, sweet heaven, he would have given anything to join her. “Several times, the word consort has been mentioned but no one has told me exactly what that means. I can guess, but since you’re being so accommodating and informative, and since you owe me big-time, will you finally spell things out for me? Please.”
He turned to her fully. Her hands rested under her cheek and the length of her hair draped over her arm. His desire for her thickened.
No, he could not bear this.
You will act the gentleman. “You are not above manipulation, I see.”
“Not even a little.”
He cut off his smile before it could form.
“A girl’s gotta use whatever weapons she can.”
And he would enjoy the use of those weapons, he thought. “Being a consort is the equivalent of wearing a ring when you marry another human. It means you belong to your partner…that you carry his name.”
She bolted to a sitting position. Those eyes of ice darkened for the first time, fury a starburst of color. “I belong to no one!”
“Not ever?”
“Not ever.”
All amusement lost, he popped his jaw. “Understand something, Annabelle. While we have our…agreement, you do, in fact, belong to me. You will not be with another man. I will not share.” He waited, but she offered no response. “I will now hear you concur.”
She leaned back, propping her weight on her elbows to have a better shot of him. “I’m too busy reeling.”
If she willingly gave herself to another man… No. She wouldn’t. She was to be his, and only his. End of story.
“I’ll pretend like you aren’t a caveman,” she said. “And I’ll promise not to be with another man…as long as you’ll promise not to be with another woman.”
That she demanded his fidelity after everything that had happened delighted him. “So promised. And that is one of the reasons we must find and kill this high lord who thinks to claim you.” He will not have what is mine.
“Do you know where he is?”
“No, but I will just as soon as I find out who he is.”
“You will. We will.”
He liked her faith in him. “I’m curious as to why he deserted you after marking you.” Zacharel would not have done so. Could not fathom anyone wanting to do so. “Can you remember anything else about him? Something you have yet to tell me?”
She fell back against the pillows, her eyes squeezed closed as though to block images inside her mind. “I’ve told you everything. He came, he conquered, he vanished.”
“And he didn’t try to take you with him?”
“No.”
“Astounding.” Zacharel’s gaze slipped over her, trying to see past the covers to the succulent curves that rested underneath. Do not go there. She is tired, stressed, and it is far too soon.
He hopped to his feet and stalked to the bathroom. There, he drew a hot bath, making sure to pour some of the hotel’s bath soap into the water. Wildflower-scented steam soon curled through the air. She’d already taken a shower, but humans enjoyed baths for more than cleaning themselves, yes? He placed a towel next to the tub and nodded, satisfied everything was in order.
In the room, he was careful not to look too closely at Annabelle. He would mentally strip her, would imagine her luxuriating inside the bath, and then he would pounce, giving life to her earlier worry.
“The bath is ready for you.”
Covers rustled. “For me?”
“Of course. I certainly do not want to smell like flowers.”
“My skin is probably going to peel off me after all this water, but a bath is simply irresistible considering I haven’t had one in four years!” She was on her feet and racing past him in a snap. The door closed and locked behind her. He remained where he was, torturing himself as sounds of falling clothing, splashing water and moans of pleasure blended.
If he’d wanted her before, he really wanted her now. He wanted her naked and wet and pliant and eager. How long before her desire for him returned? How long before she trusted him again? Oh, she trusted him on some level, or she wouldn’t be here with him. But sex, as he was learning, required more.