Page 43 of Blood Weaver
“Ronan, turn around!” I chastised again.
Instead, he stormed to the edge of the river and squatted to be at eye level. “How can you be so forgiving of Caelan, who has been nothing but cruel to you even after you saved his life?” He took a deep breath and released it. “You weren’t even attacking him on the cliffs. You showed up to negotiate peace and he still shot you with his arrows … and one was aimed to kill.”
I felt the dull ache in my lung at the reminder of Caelan’s attack. Realizing Ronan had no intention of granting the privacy I requested, I decided to answer him. “Because Caelan is like family to me. I can’t hurt him,” I whispered. “He doesn’t know who I am, and—”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s no excuse, Leila, and you know it. Unless you tell him who you are, you will always be in danger from him.”
I bit my lip nervously. “Do you want me to tell him … who I am?”
Ronan stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. “You telling him who you are is not part of my plan … at least not yet.”
“And what exactly is your plan?” I demanded. He remained quiet, never taking his eyes from mine. I looked away, disappointed. “We need to learn to trust each other, Ronan.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I returned my gaze to him. His brow was raised, and the look on his face was open and curious. The truth of the matter was, Icouldn’ttrust Ronan. He was still the enemy, no matter how much time we’d spent together. I glanced away without answering.
He snorted and stood. “I thought so.”
Feeling my face turn hot from frustration and embarrassment, I yelled, “Turn around so I can get out and get dressed!”
Ronan smirked. “Of course, Your Highness. I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation. Although …” He paused, his grin widening. “Spending days with me in a cabin … alone … will make tongues wag. So what reputation do you really have to protect?”
“No one needs to know about our time here,” I growled. “I would hate for others to learn I had to share space with a savage like you!”
His grin turned murderous. Instead of being offended and walking away, which is what I hoped to achieve, he stormed into the river fully clothed. Surprised into stillness, I watched as he waded toward me until we were a foot away.
“Are you insane?” I covered my breasts with folded arms and took a step backward.
“Obviously,” he spat. “I’m obviously insane if I continue risking my life for someone who only sees me as a villain and doesn’t appreciate a single thing I’ve done for her!”
I returned his heated glare. “How can I appreciate what you’ve done when I don’t even know your motives?”
In the blink of an eye, he closed the space between us and grabbed my face, squeezing it tightly. I raised out of the water, exposing my breasts.
“Do you know Caelan’s motives?” he growled, his crimson eyes staring me down.
I frowned and tried to rip my face out of his grasp, but he held on tightly. Bringing me up to his face, my breasts flattened against his rough, wet clothes.
“Of course I know his motives! His goal is to rescue me,” I insisted stubbornly.
Ronan laughed and shoved me away from him. I nearly lost my balance and fell, but managed to find my footing at the last minute.
“Don’t be so naïve, Leila.”
He turned to leave the river, clearly exasperated with me. Without thinking, I latched onto his arm to stop him. “If you know so much, then why don’t you tell me what Caelan’s motives are?”
He ripped his arm from my grasp and I stumbled back. He leaned down to eye level and growled, “No. Since you trust him so much, you can continue doing so until he shows you his true colors.”
Disgust rippled through me by his callous tone. Even so, I couldn’t help but be distracted by the wet clothes that clung to his body and highlighted the firm contours of his muscles, though the heat of anger and irritation was clear in the waythey tensed. I followed a water droplet as it traced the hard lines of his face, sliding down his neck and soaking into his chest. His crimson eyes drilled into mine with an intensity that momentarily made me forget the chill of the river and the vulnerability of my nakedness.
The closeness of our bodies and the dripping wetness only heightened the tension, shifting the atmosphere from anger to electric lust. Our frustrations and conflicting loyalties blended into an intoxicating cocktail neither of us could resist.
“I wish,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotions I didn’t understand, let alone know how to express, “that things were simpler.” Bringing my hands up to his chest, I pushed him back slightly only to feel the strength of him beneath my fingertips.
He captured one wrist and brought it to his lips, where he placed a tender kiss. “And I wish,” he murmured against my skin, “I could show you all that I am. All that I want to be for you.” His lips trailed up my arm, his breath warm and inviting against my goosebumped skin.
Torn between pulling away and drawing him closer, my body betrayed my intentions and I leaned into him, our wet forms melding together in the cool embrace of the river. Sliding his hands to my waist, he tugged me against him, every inch of him hard and dominant, yet yielding to my every move.
