Page 86 of Sweetling
“Are you expecting to need to defend me?” she wondered.
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t have brought you had I thought otherwise.” Stepping closer, Allarion brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Your safety is paramount to me, sweetling.”
Blushing, she nodded her understanding. Honestly, it did feel good to know that her fae warrior was armed and knew what to do with the business end of a blade. She’d never seen him in a fight, of course, but he’d regaled her with plenty of stories from his days as a warrior in the Fae Queen’s service, and she’d seen for herself how he could train for hours without relenting. She’d witnessed her share of bar brawls, enough to know that her fae would be quick and deadly in a fight.
Allarion went about turning down the bed as Molly cracked her neck and knuckles.
“Is the room to your liking?” he asked.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, biting back a yawn.
“It’s the one I prefer when I stay here.”
That piqued her interest. “Do you usually keep a room when you come here? Even though you don’t sleep?”
“Indeed,” he said. “I’ve found that the people of Dundúran find my walking about at night discomfiting, so I keep inside. Usually I just read.”
Molly grinned despite her tiredness, imagining how harrowing it’d be to run into him in the wee hours. Especially if he wore his customary cloak.
“I can find somewhere else to spend the night, though, if you prefer.”
Molly frowned up at him, not quite understanding why he’d offer. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to work some of the stinging tiredness from them so she could have an intelligible conversation.
Before her blurry eyes, Allarion knelt on the ground at her feet. “However,” he said, gently picking her foot up by the ankle to balance her heel on his knee, “I would much prefer to stay with you.”
Her lips parted, but no words managed to come out as she watched him tenderly unlace her boot and pull it and then her sock from her foot. Molly’s head fell back on the bed, a lusty moan erupting from her lips when he began to massage her foot, starting with the arch.
“Whatever you want,” she gasped, “just keep doing that!”
A low chuckle filled the room, making parts of Molly stir despite her frayed nerves and exhaustion.
He worked methodically, just as she knew he would. There was always a method to whatever Allarion did—he approached each task with a warrior’s mind, intent on performing his work effectively.
Molly admired his effectiveness.
By the time he finished with one foot and moved onto the next, her leg flopped as if boneless, her toes curling with delight.
He’d managed to work most of the tension from her legs when he went and ruined it by asking, “What did you think of today?”
Sighing, Molly sat up straight. “It was…a lot. Lady Aislinn is lovely, and the princess is obviously smart as a whip. But I just…”
Her gaze fell to her lap, and she had to stop herself from picking at the threads of her gown.
“Just what?” His hands stopped moving as he looked at her in concern, but a poke with her toe got that wonderful massage restarted.
“I didn’t like how much they looked at me,” she admitted, not quite able to keep his gaze when she said it.
“They admired your beauty,” he said, and Molly’s heart ached to hear the sincerity in his voice. He truly believed that.
Molly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re sweet for saying so. But that’s absolutely not what they were doing. Everyone was wondering why you’d brought a nobody in from the street.”
Allarion’s eyes went wide with shock. “Why should they think such a thing?”
Molly shrugged. “What were they supposed to think?”
“That you are myazai,the new Lady Scarborough.”
She did like the sound of that, but still. “Why should they know that? There you are, looking handsome in your finery.” She traced a finger down the exquisite threading on his sapphire blue tunic. “And there’s me beside you, a nobody in a plain dress.”
