A moment after the Grandfather left, Rhia rushed into the room.
“I’m here, RuArk.”
Much to RuArk’s liking, she wore a very short peach-colored silk robe. The poufy bun on top of her head accentuated her high cheekbones and luscious lips. The scant bathrobe barely covered her strong thighs. A belt was tied neatly around her middle and the smallness of her waist enhanced voluptuous breasts—breasts that threatened to spill out. He could hardly stand it.
Oh, if only she knew what she was doing to him, and in his condition, too. Her jaw was set in full Blademaster challenge mode. She was obviously determined to carry out some task, but her warm smile and gleaming amber eyes gave her away. She was glad to see him.
His gaze was glued to her thighs and the sleek play of muscle as she circled to his side of the bed and climbed the steps. All his senses tuned in to this woman. She bent to set down a breakfast tray, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. His blood heated when her breast brushed against his arm as she leaned close and tucked a large linen napkin under his chin.
When she fluffed the pillows behind him, the warmth of her soft skin seeped through her wispy silk robe. He breathed deeply to wash his mind of its wayward thoughts only to be overtaken by the clean scent of her hair. He felt like a dirty old warrior alone with a beautiful young woman, with devilish thoughts coursing through his brain.
As she lifted the spoon to feed him what looked like porridge, he clamped his lips shut and glared at her.
“Seriously?” she asked. Clearly, she thought he was just being difficult about being fed. On the contrary, he couldn’t bear the sight of the crevice at the top of her robe. It led down to a pair of the most inviting breasts he’d ever laid eyes on. His mouth watered as he recalled the taste of those sweet taut mounds.
“You need to eat to recover quickly, RuArk. We can do this the easy way, or I can get Linc to hold your mouth open while I feed you. Your call, truce or torture?”
“Tell me again how long I must stay in bed.” He eyed her guardedly, and waited for the answer. Gods, he would go crazy if he had to see her barely dressed for a week and not be able to sink into her sweet core.
“The Grandfather said about seven days.”
“Will I get to see you in that robe every morning?”
Not bothering to hide what he knew was a predatory grin, satisfaction filled him when she shivered. One side of her mouth lifted as she stated flatly, “No.”
“Fine. Truce.”
After he’d had enough of the warm porridge, Rhia placed a cup of creamy coffee into his free hand. He hated that his grip was unsteady in his current weakened state and he appreciated that she left him alone about it. When he was done, she took his empty cup, put it on the tray and removed all the dishes to the coffee table across the room.
RuArk had hated every second of being fed, but he certainly appreciated that she cared enough to help him. And he sure as hells appreciated the view. She returned to the bed and settled next to him on her knees. RuArk’s gaze burned into hers before he let it travel to the spot where her robe rode seductively high up her thighs. He simply couldn’t resist reaching out with his good arm to slide his hand along her bare leg and up underneath her silken material.
Rhia jumped when he made contact with her skin. It felt like it had been forever since he’d touched her, and her skin felt so good against his fingers. When he gently pressed his hand between her knees, he almost sighed with relief when she opened without hesitation.
When she leaned back on her heels and spread her legs wide, a deep groan seeped up out of his chest even as her need became a sensual spark in her beautiful eyes.
“RuArk, we shouldn’t be doing this yet. You need to get better first.”
He touched the short cropped curls between her legs and gently slid a finger between her dewy flesh. Up and down. Up and down. The sweetest friction imaginable.
“RuArk, you’ll hurt your arm if you continue to... oooh.”
“I like it when you say that.”
“W-when I say what? Mmm...”
“That.” The tip of his tongue glided over his lower lip. He wished his tongue was somewhere else. He knew she did too when her hips began to roll ever so slightly. He was enjoying their sensual dance.
Wanted to dance the most primal of steps with her.
“RuArk. You shouldn’t.”
“Let me pleasure you, Fire Storm. If I cannot sink my cock into your sweetness, let me at least touch you.”
“But you’re supposed to be rest—”
“Relax, Rhia,” he whispered.
“Resting your... arm.”
“Let me, sweetheart.” He picked up the pace, moving the pads of his fingers over, in and through her sensitive folds until they were slick with her honey. Her unique scent wafted up from between her spread legs. Such a sweet aphrodisiac.
Her inner thighs quivered when he gave his attention to the blooming bud stiffening against his fingers as he spread her dewy sweetness all over it in slow, agonizing circles.
“Come for me, sweet.” He was weak from his wound and tiring fast, but he was determined to push her over the edge. He wanted, needed to feel her melt for him. Blood pounded in his ears and flowed down to his cock until it filled to near bursting. He’d almost died a few days ago and all he could think about was burying himself to the hilt in his lifemate’s hot center. Right now, her sweet sex was his whole world.
RuArk wanted to tease his wife with words of what he’d like to do to her, but putting more than two words together was impossible. Her hips tilted forward to give him better access, and the walls of her channel gripped the seeking finger he plunged inside her. The belt of her robe had come undone, and the silky covering fell open just as her head fell back onto her shoulders.
RuArk’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when Rhia palmed her breasts, kneaded and caressed them until the nipples were hard as polished stones. She was wound up and the spring only pulled tighter. Yes, this was what he wanted—for her to welcome it, reach for it, knowing he would give her sweet release. Bucking against his hand, she was almost there.
“Wind Storm, the Grandfather said you were awake and—”
“Fucking hell,” Rhia hissed, quickly drawing her knees and robe together. RuArk hoped the garment hid what he’d been doing to her underneath it.
Slamming to a halt, a red-faced Linc turned away from the erotic scene. RuArk grinned wickedly at a frazzled Rhia, and lifted his fingers to inhale her fragrant scent.
He opened his mouth, swirled his tongue around the finger that had just been inside her and licked it clean.
RuArk grinned. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”
Rhia looked as if she might swallow her tongue and barely managed to paint on a scowl at his torment. RuArk lowered his hand to his side just as Linc reappeared in the doorway with a cup.
And RuArk was still grinning in spite of the interruption.
“You are such a blasted tease,” she whispered, then scooted sideways a bit so he could see past her to view Linc better.
RuArk turned his eyes to his First Commander and pinned him with a glare. “Linc, I believed your rooms were in the barracks?”
“Sir?”
“Perhaps I am mistaken since you entered these rooms without knocking.”
“I just received news you were awake and did not think to call out for entry.”
“It is a poor excuse for disrespecting my lifemate. This is her space, our space. Don’t let it happen again. I don’t want Rhia to find herself in an embarrassing situation not of her own making.”
Rhia blushed to the roots of her dark, flame streaked hair and elbowed RuArk in the thigh. “Will you shush, already?”
“I apologize, sir. And my apologies to you, Fire Storm.”
Rhia nodded, but said nothing, and RuArk wondered at the coldness between the two.
Linc walked up the steps and offered RuArk the fresh cup of brew, this one fragrant with a blend of chocolate and spices. It tasted almost as good as Rhia. Certainly much better than the bland porridge she’d forced him to eat earlier, or the medicine he could still taste on the back of his tongue from whatever he’d been given while he’d been unconscious.
“Your report, Linc?”
“Yes, sir.” Linc glanced distractedly at Rhia, then finally spoke in his usual matter-of-fact tone. “We were attacked by a band of Noman.”
RuArk’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. Passing the cup to Rhia, he forced himself not to interrupt knowing there was more to the story.
“They did not breach the main gates, but entered the township by way of an overgrown, and obviously long forgotten set of small wooden gates behind the stables.”
RuArk’s brows rose. “The villa’s stables?”
“No, sir, the public stables of the Society of Breeders on the westernmost side of town. They’re built into the inner wall that surrounds the entire township. How they knew of these gates, we are not sure.”
Both RuArk and Rhia frowned as Linc relayed the rest of the events of that fateful evening.
They’d lost several warriors and had many more wounded because of the stealth of the attack. But in the end, the Noman had been slaughtered almost to a man with only a few escaping into the darkness of the night. And they had no idea who was behind it all.
At the knock on the door, RuArk looked to Linc with a raised brow.
“Drefan guards the apartment doors. No one enters without his knowledge.”
RuArk called out permission to come into the bedroom. A granite mask hid his surprise when Ricard Shae walked in with Brita on his heels.
Rhia must have caught the look that passed between RuArk and Linc because she leaned sideways and whispered into her husband’s ear.
“I know you don’t like the man, but I’ve known him my whole life. You don’t think he had anything to do with this, do you?”
“We will talk later.” RuArk then turned his attention to Ricard and Brita, who seemed strangely out of sorts.
“Brita, are you well?” RuArk asked.
“Huh? What?” She appeared completely shaken, her mind obviously elsewhere.
“Are you well?” RuArk asked again. Gray eyes narrowed at her discomfiture.
She fidgeted, but finally responded, though her gaze remained focused on the floor. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired is all. We’ve been working well into the night tending other wounded. I think I’m just a bit weary.”
Ricard’s face was hard and unfeeling as he watched Brita speak to RuArk. He looked at her without a single emotion. No care. No concern. Like a shell. His presence, his energy seemed... foreign. When the man caught Rhia’s gaze on him, the strange expression evaporated as if it had never been.
Rhia appeared to have dismissed it. RuArk, however, did not.
Ricard broke the stifling silence. “I’m glad to see that you’re well, RuArk.”
“Truly?” RuArk asked stonily.
“RuArk,” Rhia hissed and poked him in the ribs. “You don’t have to be rude.” He ignored her as Linc stepped a bit closer to Ricard.
“Have you been of help to your sister since the battle, Ricard?” Linc inquired quietly.
“Actually, I was wounded. One of the nurses from the Society of Physicians bandaged me up.” He held up his arm, showing the neat wrappings of clean white linen. “I took a good slice to the ribs as well. I can finally move my arm without too much pain,” he said with a wince as he gingerly attempted to stretch the place where he’d been cut.
“How bad is the cut? Do you mind if I see it?”
“No, my lord,” Ricard grimaced as he stiffly raised his loose tunic to reveal a sparkling white linen bandage wrapped deftly around his midsection.
“Take care not to overtax yourself. You would not want to take a fever,” RuArk drawled. Something niggled at the back of his thoughts. Something dark and sinister. The longer he looked at the little Draeman man, the stronger the sensation grew. He knew Ricard was involved somehow, but proving it was another matter. Perhaps he would simply throw him into one of the cells in the lower levels of the villa until he could be sure.
Brita offered RuArk a dose of pain medicine. He refused, choosing instead to face his scowling lifemate. The last thing he wanted was for Rhia to worry, but he needed to be clear-headed and completely aware of what was going on around him if he was to get to the bottom of this. Rhia made no bones about expressing her thoughts—she thought he was nuts for choosing the bone-rending pain rather than a mild sedative.
Ricard and Brita left just as Marth and Joan entered. RuArk noticed that Ricard moved awfully well for someone with a wound to the ribs.
“Linc, did you learn anything while you were watching Ricard since he arrived some days ago?”
“RuArk you couldn’t possibly think Ricard was involved in this?” Rhia protested, again.
“Why not?”
“He would never hurt me. He’s been in love with me forever.”
Linc, being the voice of reason asked, “But what if the goal was not to harm you? What if the goal was to harm the Protector, leaving you unprotected?”
Rhia tilted her head and seemed to think on what was being said. After a moment, her unwavering gaze found RuArk’s. “Considering the lengths that my father went to just to get me mated to you, I can’t dismiss the seriousness of the situation. As much as I don’t want to believe it, I can’t rule Ricard out. The Noman you introduced me to on the way here was bad enough, but to learn that they somehow knew how to get inside this township is another deal entirely.”
Linc, Marth and Joan all nodded at her sound reasoning.
“You will be careful Rhia. No arguments. No excuses.” RuArk gave her a moment to protest, and was relieved when she didn’t. “Given the number of dead and wounded, your life is not the only one in danger here. Marth, you know what to do. Between you and Dalmore, continue to watch our unexpected guest. Where is Sharyn?”
“She is securing the gates where the Noman entered.” Linc replied on his way to the door. He eased it open, and then stopped. “Do you believe Ricard is truly injured, Rhia?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because he has not been seen since right before the battle. We did not know until now whether he was among the living or the dead, as we are still accounting for our people, both Draeman and Gaian.”
RuArk sat stone still as his anger flared and Rhia’s calm reassurance reached for him through their bond. The throb in his shoulder became a wash of pain as his energy began to flag. He might need to rest, but his mind was already thinking of all kinds of imaginative punishments for Ricard Shae if he learned the man had been involved.
Easing down beneath the covers, he spoke around a huge yawn. “Bring me word as soon as you know where he has been, Linc. Have Dalmore look after Ricard while you join Sharyn at the gate. The two of you decide if this gate should be sealed, or if it should simply be patrolled from now on. We may come to need it someday.”
Linc nodded, then spoke boldly, but sincerely, to Rhia. “I ask your forgiveness, Fire Storm. I was wrong to blame you for the Wind Storm’s actions the night of the battle. He is his own man and makes his own decisions. You have my respect for your strength through this ordeal. Forgive me for my disrespect. I will never disregard you again.” He turned on his heel and was gone before she could respond.
Meanwhile, RuArk whispered instructions to Marth, whose report later that evening was of no comfort. Ricard had disappeared again. Sadly, no one missed him. Not even his sister, whose current hobby was walking around in a daze.