TWENTY-FIVE
Vardan guided Arion up to the cliff path, glancing back over his shoulder every now and again to make sure Lady Belle still followed him. He was worried about her swooning again, he told himself. Not admiring the purple fire in her eyes that kindled into life the moment they reached the clifftops.
For a woman who had almost drowned, she showed surprisingly little fear of the ocean. In fact, she seemed almost exhilarated by the stiff breeze whipping the sea into waves that boomed like battering rams when they struck the base of the cliffs. Or maybe it was the way the breeze plucked her hair from its braids and turned the silky strands into curls.
No wonder women kept their hair covered under veils. Unfettered, hers was...mesmerising. Once again, he wanted to reach out and stroke it. But he wouldn't, because to see her cringe away again would be another dagger to his heart. Once the curse was lifted, then she might look upon him with something that wasn't horror. Had all the islanders looked at him in the same way since the curse took effect? If so, perhaps their invisibility was a blessing and not a curse for him.
If the witch who cursed him planned things that way, she could hardly be the cold-hearted bitch his brother had said she was. For the first time since she cursed him, Vardan wanted to meet the woman. Or meet her again, as he'd evidently already met her but couldn't recall her. Why couldn't the witch have looked like Lady Belle, for he'd never forget a face or figure like hers. But even if she had, honour would have demanded he resist her advances.
Unless she'd looked like Lady Belle and he wanted to make her his wife.
He snorted. He'd known the girl for barely a day. He shouldn't be considering the possibility of marriage to her, or all that it entailed. Vardan owned that he had little control over his dreams, and the fact that she had been the maiden dancing naked through them did not mean he should be imagining undressing her now.
The lady's voice cut through his daydream. "You have the most peculiar smile on your face. Is there something special about this place, that it should inflame you with such love?"
You, Vardan thought but didn't say as he felt blood heat his cheeks. He doubted she would see it, though, for beasts did not blush.
"Yes," he said finally. "This is where I show you how one man with the knowledge of secret pirate bases can win against them all." He swung down from his horse, indicating that she should do the same. "We'll go on foot from here."
Lady Belle slid down gracefully, her boots barely making a sound as they landed on the windswept rock. The salt wind kept the cliffs free of snow through all but the coldest winters. "To where, precisely?" She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear.
What was it about her hair that distracted him so? Vardan shook his head. "Why, to the pirates' lair, of course." He laughed at her puzzled expression, and drew her to the very edge of the cliffs so he could point. "The cliffs along the northern side of the island are riddled with caves just like that one. And for a long time, pirates used these to store their stolen cargo. Some are even big enough to sail a ship inside."
"Truly?" Her eyes danced.
"Truly," he replied. "I will show you." He took her hand and pulled her to the very brink on the cliff.
Lady Belle balked, much like Embarr did when faced with the ocean waves. The horse nibbled at some of the hardy plants that had sprouted between the rocks, unconcerned, as her mistress dug her heels in with astonishing strength. "Unless you can fly, your Highness, there is no way you're taking me over that cliff. I like living, thank you."
He sighed. Reluctantly, he released her hand. "There are steps. See?" Vardan stepped over the edge and down the first three stone steps, worn smooth by wind, wave and the passage of many feet.
She blinked in surprise. "Down the entire cliffside?" Lady Belle swallowed, her eyes wide. "I may need your arm after all." Her hand was warm as she grasped his.
Vardan brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them lightly without thinking. Thank heaven she didn't pull away before he realised his mistake. "My apologies, Lady Belle."
"No need to apologise. I may not be accustomed to descending from clifftops, but I rarely require a man's arm to walk." She proceeded to demonstrate that she was as surefooted as her horse as she followed Vardan down the winding steps to the cave.
The steps ended at a narrow stone ledge which at high tide was washed by the waves. Now, it was simply damp with spray and strewn with seaweed thrown up in the last storm. And slippery. "Be careful here, Lady Belle," he said, glancing behind to make sure she did not lose her footing. She'd hoisted her skirts a little to better see her feet, but Vardan glimpsed a shapely ankle and found himself longing to see more. Perhaps even the naked maiden of his dreams.
He trod hard on a piece of seaweed, and his foot shot forward, throwing him backward into her arms. His face ended up pressed against her breast for one delightful moment before he came to his senses and righted himself, repeating his profuse apologies.
Lady Belle did not seem inclined to forgive him. "As you say, Vardan. Do be careful." She did not take his hand again.
Sighing, he led the way.