Blades of Men (on hold - sorry!)

Chapter Fourteen: Athalia

Chapter Fourteen: Athalia

   Sunlight flitted in through the windows, stretching lazily through the room to rest on my eyelids. I groaned, my hands reaching up to paw the air as I stretched.  I hit something. Something warm and solid and...alive? My eyes snapped open as I realised I was trapped in a circle of arms, warm and comfortable and definitely masculine.

   “You do have one hell of a right hook,” came a sultry voice in my ear, the steely tones I remembered from the first time I had met him had melted down into liquid rays of moonlight. I couldn’t hold back a shiver.

   “Why are you naked?” I asked, not allowing him to see the effects he had on me. What was wrong with me? Soft sheets and softer skin caressed my bare leg, while I could feel Conrad’s breath tickling my ear. I allowed a small smile to cross my lips before trying to sober myself once more. Surely something which felt this good was sinful. “And why, exactly, are you in my bed?” Despite my questions, I couldn’t quite bring myself to care about the answers.

   “In response to your first question, I’m not. Rather, I’m mostly naked. Secondly, you really didn’t think I was going to sleep on the floor whenever the room is in my name, did you?” I could hear the roguish grin in his voice. I suppose I was being unreasonable – there was no need for virginal theatrics when logic was so much more realistic.     

   I could remember vague voices in the night, blurry sounds of latches and closed doors. I wondered what had happened, whether Conrad had eventually agreed to a rendezvous with the woman who had been looking at him so seductively yesterday. With a quiet curse, I realised I was almost afraid of the answer.

    I yawned, unable to cover my mouth when my arms were wrapped around my body and locked with Conrad’s. I wondered why I wasn’t more worried – about my reputation, about anything – and when all the animosity and bitterness between us had drained away. I decided to try my luck, knowing all the while that I would be walking on thin ice. The only thing left to do would be to hope that it wouldn’t break.  

   “Tell me more about yourself,” I said gently, wanting more than anything to own a little bit of his past, to unravel the mystery that made up his life. I was still wrapped up in blankets, my limbs languidly lying in a haze of the surreal. The outside world seemed as substantial as a dream, made of nothing more than the stuff of cloud-shadows and the crackle of a fire. 

   “Don’t you know enough, all the important things?” he asked, the deep pitch of his voice resounding in my ear. “You know I like to play cards and that I can cook. You know that I’ll look after you. You know that I’ve been to many places, and that I want a part of my future to reside in London. You know that I’m a marquis and rich enough to multiply my wealth with little effort. You know I’m modest –” I scoffed at that, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued, “– and you know that I sleep best with a woman in my arms. You know that I’m a rogue, a thief, and simply a man.”

   He stopped, and as he leaned closer to whisper in my ear, I could feel my cheeks flame and my stomach flutter. “What more could you possibly need to know?”

   I detached myself from his arms, struggling to pull the shirt further down on my hips and lend a few inches of extra material to my legs. He raised an eyebrow, taking in my flushed cheeks and the nervous gestures of my hand playing with the hem. I could feel his scent on me, that infuriatingly tantalising smell of lemons and mint. With a lingering glance into his soft grey eyes, filled with amusement and a touch of something dangerous, I answered his question.

   “Something. What about your family? Why the need to ransom hapless maidens?” I grinned, and he answered with a signature smirk which somehow sent my stomach plummeting into my intestines. I felt the happy buzz that surrounded me as comfortably as a second skin dissipate into the ether as I watched the languid look into his eyes harden and swirl into a mocking seriousness.

   “My family have nothing to do with me, anymore, and so they are of little consequence. And why wouldn’t one want to ransom ‘hapless maidens’? Most of the time they are far less hard work than trying to invest in the stock market or the shipping industry. You, however, may be an exception.” He looked away, trying to maintain his facade of a devil-may-care attitude, even though he couldn’t help but stiffen as his tongue spat out the word family. With a roll of my eyes, I let it go. There was no use in trying to coax words out of his mouth when any kind of approach would only serve to seal his lips further.

   “I saw that,” he teased, refusing to turn his attention to one of the more inconsequential items littering the room, watching as my face coloured an even deeper shade of red. I couldn’t look away from the flawless details of his features, the proud length of his face. Lids encased eyes the colour of smoke and secrets, and I allowed my gaze to linger on cheekbones as sharp as cut glass. His tongue flitted out to moisten his lips, a silky sheen making them seem fuller than usual. I mentally shook myself. For the second time that morning, I wondered what was wrong with me.

   I felt, more than saw, Conrad lean in. Suddenly I could feel the brush of his bare chest through the flimsy material. The lips that I had so recently been admiring were suddenly on mine; gentle and demanding and moving in ways that sent tingles down my spine. My hands twined in his hair without any conscious thought, surprising me with how easily the soft locks twisted in my hands. The gentle pressure built as his own arms came around me to rest on my waist, the seconds winding into minutes during the soft whisper of our kisses.

   It felt as if time had stopped, allowing us to luxuriate in the moment without any thought for the instant after this one. I was filled with an indulgent sense of passion, a gentle moan rising in my throat only to be devoured by his mouth. He moved away from my lips to make a lazy circle down my throat, playful nips of his teeth leaving me gasping for air, although even that carried his heady scent. His breath fanned across my vulnerable skin, and in a final, fevered groan, I guided his chin until his lips once more covered mine.

   It barely registered as a door clicked open almost soundlessly. It wasn’t until I heard a husky voice comment – apparently to no one in particular – on the scene before her that it even dawned on me what was happening. I had been so lost in a tide of emotions and sensations that I hadn’t stopped to think. Hadn’t realised that my hands whispering through his hair and his lips against mine were incriminating beyond what society would accept. Until now.

   “Well, well, well,” she said, booming, smug tones rolling through the air in a hateful wave of humiliation. “That’s not something normal siblings do every day.”

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MWAHAHA!

   Sorry. But I'm feeling quite smug with this chapter. I know I've spent AGES just on them at the hotel/inn/thing (what did they call them?), but I hope this makes up for it. 

CLIFFHANGER ALERT! 

Laters,

SleepyBug