Page 52 of Veiled Flames
“I’m glad you brought that up.” I’m still mulling things over but have a solution and the question must be faced. “I’ve been wanting to discuss this with you.”
Her head tips to the side, as if my answer surprised her.
She finishes her tea, and so I set the cup on the ground and take her hands in mine.
“Rosomon.” My mouth is suddenly dry. “I never finished explaining why the sex between us was so very special. Special for me.”
“That’s right. You didn’t.” She frowns. “Unless… The other times… Did youforcethe other women?”
“No!” Cupping her face, I kiss her forehead and then look into her eyes. “No. I haven’t forced a woman. Not ever.” Not to my knowledge, in any case…
“That’s no surprise.” She smiles softly. “And I apologize for the question. But I still don’t understand then, what was different with me?”
“I’m only coming to understand that myself,” I respond. “The simplest way to put it is…I suppose that sex is different—much better—when you are with the right lover.”
“Oh.” She blinks a few times. “Are you sayingIam the right lover—foryou?” Her bound chest fills with a long intake of air,
I swallow, trying to find more moisture to speak. I can’t believe how quickly I’ve grown attached to Rosomon, how rapidly my feelings developed. But see now that I began to fall in love with her the first moment I looked into her fiercely determined eyes—the eyes of a young woman willing to risk breaking her neck to save a lowly wench she’d never met.
Foolishly, I thought bedding Rosomon might rid my mind’s obsession, but instead it has made it worse. Much worse.
“Yes,” I answer finally. “Sex with you… Rosomon, youaffectme—physically and emotionally—like no woman I’ve been with before.”
A smile spreads over her face and into her eyes. “It’s the same for me, although, of course, it means less from me as I have no comparison, whereas you claim to have had too many lovers to count.” She attempts a frown, but a satisfied grin wins the battle for her expression.
I lift one of her hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles. As my lips make contact, her eyelids flutter, further evidence that the strong attraction I feel for her is mutual.
“Alas…” I shake my head as my heart fills with regret. “Rosomon, I can never offer you the life you deserve.”
Her head tips to the side. “Why should you offer me a life? I don’t understand.”
“What I mean is, I can never make you an offer of marriage.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “Is that what has you so worried? Is that what’s dug these lines?” She runs her finger over my forehead and then cups my cheek.
“Saxon. My sweet, strong Saxon. Please, don’t fret—at least not aboutthat. I don’twanta husband. Not ever.”
Her words sting but then make me appreciate her even more. At some point, Rosomon will change her mind about marriage. A husband is a woman’s only option for a comfortable life, but I don’t want to argue with her right now.
I’ve stolen her maidenhood. That part is done. And, if her current distaste for becoming a wife means she’s willing to return to my bed without the promise of marriage, I don’t have the strength to argue.
“What is camp like?” she asks, her eyes eager. “How soon before I can ride a dragon?’
I startle, looking into her eyes to confirm that she’s joking.
But she’s not.
Does she actually believe she’ll have a chance to ride a dragon? That any dragon would be fooled by her costume as easily as the rider candidates were?
Her hand drops from my face, and she studies me, clearly recognizing my shock.
“Ma chérie.” I take her hand again, but it stays limp in mine. “You won’t enter camp as a rider candidate.”
She pulls back her hand. “Why not?”
“Because.” I shake my head, surprised that she hasn’t figured this out. She’s comprehended everything else so quickly. “Because you are a girl.”
Her chin lifts. “I am awoman. A woman of two and twenty. I’ve lived eight days and nights, trapped in close quarters with men, and not one of them has suspected I’m not a boy.”
