Page 26 of The Warrior Priest
How deep did those feelings go?
I steered him around the corner, my steps slow as I reluctantly directed him to the temple of Merdu’s Guards. It was also the same direction as his secret room. The temptation to go there instead made my breath quicken.
“Don’t be jealous of her,” Rhys murmured.
I stopped suddenly and forced myself to laugh to cover my embarrassment.
Light from the torch in the recessed doorway of a cobbler’s shop gave his gaze an intensity as he studied my features. Slowly, slowly, his lips curved, turning his smile from playful to wicked. My heart responded with a resounding thud, echoed by the blood in my veins. Was it a warning? Or a declaration?
Rhys’s hands rested on my shoulders, comfortingly heavy. I only came up to the middle of his chest, but I didn’t feel overwhelmed or dominated. I felt cherished. The pads of his thumbs skimmed the underside of my jaw. He didn’t wear gloves—perhaps he’d left them in the tavern—but his skin was nevertheless warm, his touch achingly soft.
I felt reckless. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to take his face in my hands and draw him down to me or push him into the shadows and do more than kiss.
But I did not. I liked to think I resisted because I was trying to do the right thing, to not force him to make a decision that went against his sworn oath, but I wasn’t that selfless. The reason I didn’t act on my feelings was because I didn’t want to lose him altogether. A single kiss would put our friendship in jeopardy. It would be one rash, wild moment we might not recover from. I only wanted him if I could have him to myself. I didn’t want to share him with the order—I didn’t believe he wanted to leave, just that he felt obliged to do so, to protect me from my uncle through marriage.
Despite every part of me craving him, I managed to not succumb to my baser instincts. I stepped away.
Rhys wasn’t as clearheaded. He closed the gap between us and kissed me.
Chapter6
Somehow, through the dense fog of my desire, I managed to think. I pulled away. “Rhys,” I gasped out between ragged breaths. “Are you sure? Will you regret this in the morning?”
“I don’t care,” he rasped.
It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but I didn’t press him further because he was kissing me again, and all common sense vanished. Impulse took over. I flung my arms around his neck and buried my fingers in his hair. This time there was no tenderness in the kiss. It was a surging tide of desperate need, three years of pent-up desire finally breaking free. His arms circled around me and held me against his body, leaving me in no doubt that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
When we finally stopped for air, I touched my forehead to his. “I didn’t know… You’re very good at hiding your feelings.”
He lightly touched his lips to mine, so I felt his smile. “I’m very good at a lot of things, Jac. At least Iwas. I’m probably rusty now.” He took my hand in his and pressed it against his chest. His heart beat madly beneath my palm. “I want you, Jac, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. Come with me.” He led me away, heading in Hailia knew which direction.
I became aware of the sting of cold air on my cheeks, the smell of smoke in the air from the many fires trying valiantly to keep the chilly autumn night at bay. And I became aware again of how drunk Rhys was when he stumbled as he turned to look at me over his shoulder.
I tugged on his hand, forcing him to stop. “Rhys…are you sure? You should think?—”
“I don’t want to think.” It came out as a growling groan, part frustration and part regret.
That regret would grow as he sobered. It would fester and infect, until it consumed everything that was good between us. It would destroy the most precious thing we had—our friendship.
I released his hand.
He didn’t reach for me. His response, or lack of it, confirmed that I’d made the right decision. Last night, he’d been prepared to leave the order for me, but that was when he thought marriage would protect me from my uncle. After pointing out that it wouldn’t, he’d changed his mind. Before our kiss, he’d said he wasn’t talking about leaving the order for Giselle, that was for me.
Was. Past tense.
He cared about me and desired me, but when the factor of saving my life was removed from the equation, caring and desiring weren’t enough for him to leave the order.
Two men walking past stopped a few paces away. “Is that a priest of Merdu’s Guards?” one said to the other.
“Not every man wearing a brown tunic is a warrior priest,” his friend pointed out. They walked on.
Rhys tilted his head back and blinked up at the ink-black sky. “I’m sorry, Jac.” The heaviness in his voice almost undid me.
I managed to keep the tears welling in my eyes from spilling, but only just. “Don’t be. We can still be friends, can’t we?”
“Of course. Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
“You never have before and you don’t need to now. Besides, I probably should walkyouhome. You can’t go ten paces without tripping.”
