Page 27 of Wild Flame

He shook his head. “I was merely curious as to where you sneak off to. Against my will, I find myself intrigued.” Those honey-brown eyes considered me closely and I refused to look away from that probing stare.

“Against your will?” I snorted, then thought of how my mother would call it an inelegant sound. I turned and began walking again. He kept pace with me. “I’m afraid your curiosity will just have to remain unsatisfied, Your Highness.”

I pulled at the neckline of my gown as I spoke. Hilde had picked out this dress. It had a high buttoned collar, and I was feeling more than a little uncomfortable in the rising heat of the day.

“Very well,” Malik said with a shrug.

After that, we walked in silence. I thought he would try to fill it, but he didn’t. He simply prowled soundlessly next to me, taking in the sights around him as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I studied him out of the corner of my eye. Seeing him in his riding leathers . . . I knew this was the real him. That cultured veneer he had cultivated was gone, and in its place was the commanding dragon rider he was. This man before me shifted between roles as effortlessly as slipping on clothes.

I began to feel unnerved by his continued silence. Finally, I halted and turned to face him again. “Don’t you have better things to do than stalk me through the garden?”

He halted as well, and one dark eyebrow rose. “And what other things do you think I should be doing, exactly?”

I flung my arms out. “I don’t know. Kingly things?”

“Kingly things?” he repeated, his eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth.

I huffed in exasperation. “I simply mean that you must have many demands on your time.”

“I do,” he acknowledged, frustratingly nonchalant.

“Then why are you here? Don’t you have another celebration to plan or a meeting to attend? Aren’t you meant to be finding a bride?” That last just sort of fell unbidden from my mouth. My face flushed beet red.Why had I said that?

His eyes gleamed. “Believe me, siren, that is one of my highest priorities.”

I glared at him. “Be serious.”

He leaned closer, his big body overshadowing mine. I forced myself not to take a step back. I didn’t think he was trying to be intimidating. I was just that small and his presence was just that overwhelming. His gaze traveled over my face as he spoke. “I am serious.”

The weight of his stare only added to the oppressive heat, and I tugged at the neck of my gown again before looking away.

“Did you not bring anything more suitable for the weather?” His brow furrowed as he took in my discomfort and the glisten of sweat on my brow. “It is not practical to wear such clothing this time of year.”

“I assure you, I am fine.” I wanted to tell him that I didn’t exactly have a say in what styles were packed for me on this trip, impractical or not, but I held my tongue.

“You are not,” he stated emphatically, glaring down at me with frustration. “It is no trivial matter. If you are not careful, someone of your complexion could easily get heat sickness.”

“Heat sickness?” I had never heard of such a thing. I knew those of fairer skin could burn if they were out in the elements too long, but not to the point of illness.

He nodded. “Your body can overheat and become dangerously ill.”

“Well, I’m fine, so if you will just—” I gasped as he pulled me into the shade of a tall tree and reached for the top button of my high collar. “What are you—” I began.

“Just hold still,” he ordered. “I assure you, I have no designs on your virtue at present.”

I was so shocked at the unexpected intimacy and impropriety of the gesture that I was temporarily stunned into immobility. And what did he mean byat present?

I hardly moved, hardly dared breathe as his warm, deft fingers swiftly unbuttoned the first few buttons at my throat. He halted when he reached the hollow at the center of my collarbone, pulling the fabric wide. I swallowed hard as the back of one long finger skimmed the flesh there and lingered as our eyes met.

My cheeks flamed, and he dropped his hand.

“Better?” he asked and raised a challenging, dark brow.

It was. The relief was instantaneous, and it felt amazing to not have the itching, cloying fabric against my skin. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. Instead, I just made up some excuse and turned to walk away.

And this time, he didn’t follow me.

Chapter Eleven

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