Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection Page 17

  “I meant no disrespect.” Her face drained of amusement. “I apologize for my rudeness.”

  I rubbed a finger alongside my nose. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry, Mana, I am. Whatever your relationship is—was—to Rhys, doesn’t concern me. It’s between you two.”

  Mana dropped her supplies as her eyes rounded with understanding.

  Rhys looked to her. “Thank you,” he said, shifting his attention from her on to me, “cousin.”

  Embarrassment was a flash fire that ignited in my cheeks and constricted my throat. She was his cousin? Fine impression I had made on his family. What Mana must think of me, all but foaming at the mouth. After Pascale’s tantrum, I was amazed Rhys had dared risk the introduction.

  “You are most welcome. I will fetch you when dinner is ready.” She hesitated. “I gave your brother the room beside Old Father. I assumed you would want privacy at your home.”

  The look he turned on me melted my bones. “We do, and, Mana? If we don’t answer…”

  More red blossomed in her cheeks. “I’ll leave a tray outside your door.”

  “Thank you, Mana.” I broke Rhys’s gaze. “You’ve been more gracious than I deserve.”

  “Hearts are fickle things, Maven. They drive us to act without thought at times.” Her smile was kind and conveyed perfect understanding. “That yours is a love match is a blessing only the two gods could have bestowed.”

  My mouth ran dry and my lips puckered closed. Thank the gods for that mercy. I didn’t love Rhys. I didn’t know him well enough. I glanced back at him and my chest tightened. Did I?

  His hand traveled my shoulder until he stroked the side of my throat, and all of my doubts scattered as if his thumb had flicked them away. “I judged you unfairly.” I’d let my insecurities speak for me. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He excused me without hesitation. “Vaughn sews his seeds of doubt well.”

  “I let him have his fun at my expense.” I should have known better. “If I’d asked you sooner, we could have avoided this.”

  Rhys didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. He radiated smug male satisfaction.

  “What?” He managed the word without inflection as he drew me flush against him.

  I covered his hand with mine. “I think you’re enjoying yourself too much, that’s what.”

  “My beautiful, jealous female is naked in my arms.” He smiled. “What’s not to enjoy?”

  I sank lower in the water. “You’re unconcerned with nudity, aren’t you?”

  “I am what the gods made me, as are you. There is no shame in what they created.”

  His faith bolstered mine. “Your offer stands?” Perhaps it bolstered mine too far.

  His heavy brow creased. I bit my lip and glanced between his face and, well, the rest of him. Understanding dawned in the flare of his nostrils. He nodded, and I looked my fill.

  The current swirled about him, curving around his waist and drawing my eye to the hard board of his abdomen. Scars crisscrossed roped muscle, pale against his tan skin. My gaze skipped like a stone across a pond, unsure which part of him to admire first. A dark trail led from his navel to the waterline, and my fingers itched to trace its path. His legs were the first bare thing I’d seen of him, and even they fascinated me. He said look upon him. I had. Now how did I stop?

  My fingers curled. “Can I touch you?”

  “I think that would be unwise.” His gaze cast upon the shore.

  “Oh.” My hand dropped. I hadn’t realized I’d lifted it.

  “Water is sacred to the Salticidae.” He touched my cheek. “I have a healthy respect for Old Father and his walking stick. Otherwise, I would have left you under Mana’s supervision.”

  Better for us both that he hadn’t. “No touching then.”

  “Not while your skin is bare and your eyes are willing.” His grin turned wry. “I placed more faith in myself than was wise. Resisting you clothed is difficult, while naked it’s nigh impossible.” His fingers sank in my hair. “I thought coming to the water would be safer for us.”

  “You mean with your honor to hold you accountable and my fear to keep me honest?”

  He chuckled. “Something like that.”

  I touched his arm. “I respect their beliefs, but I know myself and own my desire.”

  He cleared his throat. “I believe I said I owned my actions.”

  With a careless shrug that cost me the dregs of my modesty, I stood on knees weak enough to be swayed by the current. Sacred waters kept my virtue untouched, but it also kept Rhys untouched. Digging my toes into the sandy bottom, I owned my desire. My innocence was his. He would be my husband. I knew him well enough to understand he would never let me go.

  “Come, partisan.” I curled my fingers. “Help me bathe, then take me to your home.”

  I heard him swallow. “As my maven wishes.”

  Sunlight burned a hole in my shoulder, or perhaps it was Rhys’s steady gaze setting me afire. Our time in the water had been a luxurious indulgence, but hunger and exhaustion haunted our steps from the river to Rhys’s home. Unlike the other mud-brick units, where children lived a tier above their parents, his was a modest size and set apart, as if he had no relatives in Beltania.

  Odd. Considering he claimed Mana as a cousin, he must be related to the clan heads, and he should have personal quarters in their home instead of a guest suite beside Old Father. While he claimed his relationship with Mana was hard to explain, I found it quite simple. Unless there was more he hadn’t said. He deserves your trust. All else will be revealed in time.

  “Here we are.” His steps slowed. “This is home.”

  “Is this home?” I frowned. “I assumed you lived in Cathis at the Mimetidae clan home.”

  “I keep lodging there as well.” He paused. “It’s not a place I would ever have you go.”

  Despite the heat, I shivered. Trefor personified why I would never venture east. Even if I became curious as to what stock my partisan came from, I knew I’d rather Isolde visit me in my city than venture into hers. Cathis was a land carved of nightmares, where residents hung skins of their enemies the same as I hung tapestries on my wall. Bones comprised the city gate, and no matter how Rhys defended their way of life, I saw only horror where such acts were concerned.

  I jumped when his hand touched the small of my back.

  “Are you all right?” His thumb worked soothing circles into my muscles until I calmed.

  “Yes.” Grim thoughts had no place here. He was no more responsible for the manner of his upbringing than I was. Birth was a circumstance of fate. Some were favored while others were not. I leaned into Rhys’s touch. His beliefs were a bridge we’d cross once reaching. I had learned my lesson. I would not judge him harshly again. He deserved my faith, and he had it.

  “You’re falling down on your feet.” His arm wound around my waist and held me tight.

  I buried my face against his ribs and let him guide me. “I am tired, but I’m not sleepy.”

  His steps stuttered. “I noticed.” His sudden lack of grace might have had a bit to do with how my finger traced the closure of his pants before I scratched my way across his hard stomach.

  “You seem nervous.” I smiled where he couldn’t see.

  He kissed the top of my head. “I am.”

  Tilting my head back gave him all the invitation he required to fuse his lips to mine. His familiar anise taste burst on my tongue and filled my stomach with eager flutters. Perhaps he had been wise to lead me to the river. Once I’d seen him bare, I craved contact with his skin. Courage clenched my fingers in his shirt as I tugged the ends free of his pants. He shackled my wrists and pried my grip loose. His sudden stop slammed me against him. Our legs tangled, and I stumbled.

  “What is it?” Regaining my balance, I stepped to his side. “Is something the matter?”

  His thumbs worked over my wrists. “I’ve never brought a female here.”

  He sounded disinclined
to allow me to be the first. I tempered the hurt in my voice. “I can ask Mana for Vaughn’s room if you’d rather.”

  His chuckle rang soft and dark. “You won’t be rid of me so easily.” He passed a hand over his mouth. “If I’d known I would return with my future bride, I would have bought finer things or secured better accommodations.” His assessment was frank. “I have no wealth. My life has been spent providing for my clan. All I have is theirs.” He gestured toward his home. “All I have is this.”

  I caught his hand. “I have wealth. I have no need for more.” I kissed his rough knuckles. “Your home is lovely, or I feel certain it would be if you allowed me entrance.” He watched me with a mixture of hope and doubt. Yet again, I was struck curious as to who had wounded this male’s pride. “The one thing I want most is what you’ve promised me. I want my sister back.”

  Pain twanged in my chest as if the thought of Pascale had plucked my heartstrings.

  Since our departure, I’d found solace in contemplating Rhys and in keeping my eyes to the road. It lessened the ache where Pascale’s betrayal rested. Between the dead bodies and the sickened pecora, I hadn’t considered my sister in some time, or pondered her guilt or innocence.

  Guilt reared its ugly head and demanded I focus on her, while a voice equally snide said Pascale had known what she risked. She was my junior, but far from being a child. Since she cast aside her family for her male, then who could judge me if I did the same?

  I would judge myself.

  How easy Rhys made it for me to forget the world outside of the two of us.

  As if reading my thoughts, he pressed his lips to my temple. “We made better time than we’d anticipated. We have an advantage. You’re no good to Pascale strung out and half starved.”

  On cue, my stomach gurgled. “How much longer is it until dinner?”

  He squinted skyward. “I’d guess three hours, maybe four.”

  The lure of his bed was irresistible, but desire had abandoned me. Cupping my shoulders, he angled me toward his front door but my feet dragged. “I don’t think I can…”

  “I think you can.” He pushed me forward with gentle hands. “You and I will lie together.” His pressure was steady as I shuffled past the threshold. “I won’t ask for more.”

  My relieved sigh embarrassed me. “I wanted to—”

  “I know.” He led me into a compact room with a low bed covered in blankets. His gait was stiff and his mouth bracketed with tense lines. Even in his pain, his touch remained tender.

  “Are you well?” I kept my gaze rooted to the floor. “I mean…are you discomforted?”

  “I am well.” His low laughter relieved me. “All males have experienced this type of discomfort.”

  “I’m sorry.” I dared peer up at him. “I’ve become most intimate with those words since meeting you.”

  He sat on the mattress and removed his boots before stretching across the bed. His eyes shut for a moment as he adjusted and bones popped. He groaned, and the sound gave me chills. When he patted the place beside him, I sank into the mattress and pulled off my boots. Rolling against his side, I made his chest my pillow and slung my arm over his waist. The soft fabric of his shirt covered the harsher material of his pants. The firm outline of his arousal made my fingers bend in my palm to escape the urge I had to explore him.

  “Lourdes?” His voice was husky with desire I’d stoked in him.

  My gaze swept downward. “I know it’s cruel to ask, but can I look at you?”

  Perhaps if I saw him free of water, saw the largeness that encompassed every part of him, fear would trickle in and this tight ball of need would lessen. If I saw what awaited me in his bed, my common sense would return, wouldn’t it? For some reason, I doubted the thought as I had it.

  “I’m yours.” His heart thundered beneath my ear. “Do what you will.”

  I kept my cheek pressed to his chest. If I saw his eyes, his hunger, I might lose my nerve.

  His shirt unbuttoned easily, but the laces on his pants gave me trouble as I lay with one arm pinned under me. Fumbling his strings both thrilled and frustrated me. When I untangled the knot I’d created, I peeled the fabric aside. His body tensed and his heart, which had galloped, paused for several of my heart’s beats. The back of my skull tingled where his hot gaze rested.

  Damn me for a fool, but I asked, “Can I touch you?”

  His fingers sank into my hair, massaging my scalp, the base of my neck. “Yes.”

  My palms sweated when I wrapped my fingers around his erection. Gods, his skin is fevered and so hard. I’d meant an innocent touch here or there, but once exposed, I’d fisted the hard length of him, and I reveled in the hitch of his breath, the way his hips rose from the bed. My thumb circled the flushed crest, smeared over the damp tip and brought his moisture sliding down his shaft. He groaned when I stroked him, so I did it again and again as he held me to him.

  Beneath my cheek, his nipple hardened, and I turned my head to tease the nub with my teeth. His breaths came faster, his groans merging into a constant rumble through his chest.

  “If you don’t stop—” His voice strangled as my thumb crossed the smooth head.

  I pressed a soothing kiss to his chest. “The thing about having brothers,” I told him, “is hearing them converse about a male’s bodily functions in greater detail than any female should ever hear.” My tongue flicked over salty skin spiced with a sweaty sheen. “I know what will happen.”

  For the first time since lying in bed with him, I lifted my head and sought what lurked behind those expressive eyes of his. Shivers rippled through me. His head tilted back, mouth parted on a strangled gasp. His eyes pinched shut as if he was drifting in a dream and feared waking.

  Raw need etched his features, making him the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. As I stared, his eyes opened, and my heart tripped in its paces. I may be half in love with him already.

  Coarse fingers tightened around the base of my neck. “Kiss me.” Rhys guided me to him. His lips were hot, hard as the rest of him. “Don’t stop.” He groaned against my mouth.

  “I won’t.” His desperate strain toward bliss fascinated me. If his plea had been reversed, I would have fought him for the right to give him the pleasure I sensed loomed outside his reach. Instinct drove me to quicken my strokes and breath left him. I tore our mouths apart as his hips thrust once more. He came hard on an almost pained sigh, and satisfaction bloomed in my chest.

  “Now.” His plea was graveled. “Let me touch you.”

  “No.” I smoothed damp hair from his cheek and hoped he understood.

  The weight of his palm, the pressure in his fingers, kept me still. “I will find Pascale.”

  “I know you will.” I lay my hand over his heart. “I trust your word.” Shrugging aside his grip, I rolled from the bed, and I entered his small living area. I’d noticed a washstand angled in a corner, so I scrubbed my hands in the basin, then dampened a cloth and returned to clean Rhys.

  He shivered as I washed him, earning a smile I hid behind the tangled mess of my hair. I’d done this, given him this pleasure and exuded a female’s power over her male. The primitive urge to claim Rhys eased, made content by the faint curve of his lips and the flush in his cheeks.

  “Lourdes.”

  “Hmm?” I frowned when he plucked the cloth from my hands and tossed it to the floor.

  He opened his arms to me, and I nestled against his side, smiling at the familiar view. I bit my lip when I noticed his pants boasted damp splotches and his laces were tied in a neat bow. I had done that as well, tidied him and tended him. Our newfound intimacy was heady, addictive.

  He traced my hip thoughtfully. “Once Pascale is returned to you, we will finish this.”

  “I know.” I kissed his damp skin and tasted salt as my eyes closed. “I look forward to it.”

  Chapter 9

  I woke in darkness so absolute my view mirrored the one behind my eyelids. Twisting my arm behind me, I touched c
old mattress and realized the bed was empty but for me. “Rhys?”

  “It’s time to go.” His voice came from the blackness to my right. “Mana just left.”

  “Why is it so dark?” I knew the Salticidae used torchlight to illuminate their city.

  “Old Father has proclaimed tonight a blessed night, and Sikyakookyang ordered a ceremonial blackout. Only light from the moon and the clan’s bonfire is allowed.”

  “Is this their way of welcoming you home?” Pushing myself upright, I swung my legs over the bed’s edge and groped the floor until I found my discarded boots, then tugged them on.

  “No.” His sigh heralded bad news. “Blessed nights are rare. I’ve only seen two during my years here.” His voice neared while his silent footsteps reminded me how lethal he was. “Only when the Salticidae call upon the two gods are such measures observed. Kokyangwuti will be mentioned and her gifts to their clan honored. Tawa will be named and his blessing requested.”

  I recalled Sikyakookyang wanting to speak with me. “Do you know what this is about?”

  “I have an idea.” He clasped my hands without fumbling and pulled me to my feet.

  My nape prickled. His night vision was much keener than mine. I wasn’t afraid of Rhys, but my awe returned in a rush of memory. How moonlight had bathed him the night we met. How he handled his sword as if the blade were an extension of his arm. How gracefully he dealt in death.

  I frowned. “Should I assume your vagueness means you’d rather not answer?”

  His finger traced the curve of my neck. “I’d rather not frighten you without cause.”

  “Because hearing you’re concerned isn’t frightening in its own right,” I groused.

  His breath fanned my face, a too-late warning before his lips covered mine. “Blessed nights are attended only by the war council. I’m sure you noticed the Salticidae paladin is of the Deinopidae clan. Did you not wonder what led a clan of farmers to wed their maven to Chinedu?”