Page 11 of Married By Treachery

Raquel recognized the voice as belonging to the man with the braided locks—Marix—who’d met them at the gate when they’d first entered.

“Jake?” Raquel hissed at the Not-a-Bear Prince.

The Not-a-Bear Prince smiled viciously through blood-stained teeth. “Everything is perfectly fine, Marix. Mybelovedjust wanted to”—those golden eyes danced—“get better acquainted.”

Raquel made a face and those blasted dimples reappeared.

Marix chuckled from behind the door, and then his footsteps retreated. Meanwhile Jake, or whoever he was, touched his nose with his pointer finger, and both blood and break disappeared.

“That is totally unfair!” Raquel exclaimed as Jake crossed the room. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” He stopped before a wooden chest, then glanced sideways at her and arched a brow. “Unless you’ve changed your mind…?”

Raquel scowled. He flashed her a wicked grin then turned back to the chest and lifted the lid. He pulled out a pair of breeches, a tunic, and some other item that didn’t register because her attention had, unfortunately, drifted.

Raquel clenched her teeth and forced her gaze from his bare (and perfect) backside to his face. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Where is your hair, and why did that man call you Jake?”

He released the lid and let it drop with a loud thunk. “Who’s to say I didn’t cut my hair?”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said, though he did not appear to agree with her. “It’s not just the hair… you are acompletelydifferent man from the one who kidnapped me!”

He stepped into his pants.

Oh, mother of all that was holy!

“Mm. Are you so sure…?” He fastened his buckle.

What was she sure about? Raquel suddenly couldn’t remember, and she squeezed her eyes shut so that she could think properly. “I mean to say that youarethe same man who kidnapped me, but your appearance is vastly—”

“It was glamour.”

She opened her eyes to see him holding up his tunic, appraising it. Taking his time while the lantern light warmed his muscled—

“Dress faster,” she snapped.

He looked straight at her, his eyes molten in the lantern light. “I’m going to die soon. I might as well enjoy what little time I’m afforded.”

Raquel’s lips parted and closed. “You heard that.”

He winked and pulled his tunic up and over his head.

Raquel had had quite enough. “Who—are—you?”

“Fair warning, my bride.” He shoved his arms through his sleeves, and the inked vines encircling his biceps flexed and shifted. “The more you learn about me, the more difficult it will be for you to take my life. I believe it has to do with that heart of yours that you possess and I lack. It makes your kind prone to sympathy.”

“Doubtful, in your case.”

Jake stopped and glanced over at her with a thoughtful expression. “You are so resolved to despise me when I have done nothing but—”

“Nothing? You murdered my brother’s betrothed!”

His features opened with anah, and then he fastened the ties on his tunic. “The last bride, I imagine. What was her name again…? Adair… Adienne… Ad—”

“Adina!”

“That’s right.” He tugged on his sleeves and pushed back his hair, which had inadvertently fallen free of its tie.

“You don’t even remember!”

---