Page 50 of Façade

I bit my lip and Ryland hastened to ease my concerns. “It’ll be alright.” He grazed the back of my hand with his fingertips. I jolted at the touch and yanked my hand away. He gasped. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to—I just wanted to reassure you.”

I fought for breath, each made more difficult with the lingering shadow of the tingly warmth from where he’d grazed my hand. I hadn’t meant to react so strongly, but my body’s response had frightened me…along with my inexplicable desire to ask him touch me again, thoughts made more dangerous considering we were about to share a bed. Such wishes to hold my husband’s hand were utterly impractical when he wouldn’t remain my husband for much longer. I forced myself to refocus on the matter at hand.

“We truly don’t have a choice?” He shook his head and I heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Very well.” I felt as if I’d just resigned myself to my execution.

His lips twitched as he finally met my gaze. “Don’t soundtooexcited; I wouldn’t want anyone to think my wife actuallylikesme.” His expression sobered as he stepped closer, causing the space between us to shrink far more than was wise. “I promise to treat you honorably. You have my word.”

I wanted to quip that his word meant very little considering the deceit riddling our relationship, but I found words impossible, especially with the way the earnestness filling his eyes wriggled into my heart to ease some of the apprehension encasing it.

Though our circumstances gave me very little reason to trust him, somehow I knew in this instance I could extend it. My heart lifted, making me realize just how desperately Iwantedto trust him, even in a matter as small as this.

A guard noticed our hesitation and approached with a confused pucker. “Is everything alright, Your Highnesses? Is the bed not to your liking?”

Ryland’s apprehension vanished in an instant. “Everything is fine. Thank you for your hard work. My wife and I…will go to sleep…now.”

Despite his words, neither of us made any motion to move. Instead we stood stiffly side by side, once more avoiding one another’s gaze. Ryland recovered first, and after a fortifying breath he extended his arm, as if to escort me to a ball rather than to brave sleep.

I rolled my eyes even as I secretly found the gesture rather charming, an emotion that had no place with our single bed only a few yards away. I gave an exaggerated curtsy that earned me a smile before accepting his arm; my fingers tingled at the contact.

The steps to our bed were both the shortest and longest of my life. The moment we reached it, Ryland released me with an awkward cough and turned his back to me, as if to grant me privacy to slip beneath the covers…but I couldn’t move, rendered frozen as I gaped at how little space there was. No matter how much we attempted to avoid contact, we’d undoubtedly brush against one another during the night.

There was only one thing to do. I marched purposefully towards Ryland’s saddlebag, something he didn’t immediately notice considering his back still faced me. I gathered an armful of rocks before returning; his attuned awareness to the sound of them jostling against one another finally caused him to spin around.

“What are you doing?”

I lifted the blankets and began arranging the rocks in a single line. “Making a barrier.”

His eyes widened. “With my rocks?”

“How else would I do it?”

He stared with a look of abject horror, but the moment didn’t last before he was suddenly beside me gathering the rocks back up. I tried to grab them but he twisted his body away, blocking me. “You can’t use my rocks. What if you damage them?”

The notion was so ridiculous I couldn’t resist snorting. He glared, as if the scoffing sound had been a personal affront. “They’rerocks,” I said. “I doubt much harm will come to them.”

“The rocks’ varying levels of hardness leave several prone to scratches if not handled with care.”

My brow furrowed. “Aren’t rocks by definition all hard?”

He sighed, as if he found my ignorance trying. “Not to the same degree, as I told you the day I caught you snooping in my bedroom—hardness is a mineral’s ability to resist being scratched, and each mineral’s hardness depends on the type of rock. You test the hardness of a mineral by scratching its surface with a mineral of a known hardness. If it leaves a mark, then the rock type is softer.” He motioned to his armful. “These are all unique kinds, meaning using them as a barrier could potentially damage them.”

It was one thing to admit that his hobby with rocks made him more interesting; it would be quite another for him to discover he was starting to pull me into his fascination. The fact I found his rock facts even remotely interesting—even a bit endearing, especially the way they caused him to light up—made them rather dangerous.

“You could at least be gentleman enough to wait to bore me to sleep until I’m at least settled.” I reluctantly handed him his last rock and watched him tuck them safely back into his saddlebag, arranging themjust soin a way that gave my heart another unexpected tug. “What are we to do instead? If we’re going to sleep together, I’d rather do it without touching you.”

His gaze darted towards the guards to see whether any had heard my disgruntled complaint, but thankfully none seemed to be paying any attention to our whispered argument. “Not to worry, I have a much simpler solution.”

He motioned to the blankets and I finally noticed there were two of them, allowing him to lay on top of the first while I lay beneath them both so that the blanket between us acted as a barrier, one his rather cute rock monologue made me exceedingly grateful for, as thin as it was.

The blanket seemed to become even thinner and the bed smaller once Ryland settled beside me. Try as he might to avoid touching me, our legs brushed against one another, rather electrifying despite the blanket between them, a proximity that felt nearly suffocating.

“Will you be too cold with only one blanket?” I asked airily in an effort to distract myself.

“No.” His own husky tone sent ripples through me. After a moment’s hesitation he met my gaze with a rather shy one of his own. “And what of you? Are you too cold?”

I shook my head. Between my heated blush and the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, cold was the last thing I felt.

The blankets rustled as he settled on his back, determinedly not looking at me. “Not to worry: even if I grow too warm, I’ll keep my shirt on.”

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