“No,” she said.
He dragged his gaze to hers.
She made a huffing exhale and prodded, “Your
brothers?”
“We weren’t…raised together,” he said. “I never
met them until I was an adult.”
She frowned, clearly perplexed. “How many
brothers do you have?”
“Thr—” Pain knifed him and he stopped, gathered
his thoughts. “Two. Lokan is dead.”
Of course, she knew that already.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I am.” Her lips parted
as though she would say more, but he rested his fingers
against her mouth, stilling the words. She might be
sorry, but she was still of the Asetian Guard. Would she
choose duty over him, or him over duty, if it came
down to a choice? Would she look away as he continued his hunt for Lokan’s remains, or would she try to
stop him, as he’d come to suspect she had been ordered?
Would he allow her the choice?
He didn’t want to know. Not right now, with the
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SINS OF THE HEART
taste of her still on his lips, and the feel of her imprinted on his skin.
Time enough to face questions of duty later.
Right now, he just wanted to saturate himself with
her. The smell of her skin. The sound of her voice. The
secrets he could coax from her lips. Not the secrets of
Aset. Onlyhersecrets. Roxy’s.
“So you were alone in a crowd,” he prompted.
“And then?”