Page 35 of Company of Thieves
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”
“I meant, where will she sleep?”
“With me,” he snapped, and strode forward.
“You don’t think your father will want to ... er ... enjoy her charms?”
Alan stopped dead, fury making his blood go into an immediate boil. “He wouldn’t dare.”
Zand shrugged. “He’s demanded—and received—whatever woman you were partaking of during other visits. Hallie is lovely. I don’t see a reason why he wouldn’t assume you’ll share her, too.”
“I don’t share. Those other women he took to his bed never returned to mine,” he ground out through teeth that he was surprised to find were clenched tight. “Hallie is not available.”
Alan marched past a line of bales of hay that had been set up as Hallie’s practice area. His eyes went to her as Amir, one of the best of his swordsmen, was now armed with a wooden sword while he engaged in sparring with her, supposedly giving her much needed practice in the art of defense.
She was really quite horrible at it. Alan closed his eyes when Amir checked himself in midswing. Had he a real sword, he might have taken off Hallie’s arm, and what was she doing while she was supposed to be parrying the attack? She was making odd little jumping moves and yelling, “Hiya!” and “Take that, you marauding bastard!”
If she didn’t kill him with all the worry about keeping her safe from Etienne, she was going to kill herself with the belief that she was fast approaching the status of master swordsman.
“You’ve got it bad for her, don’t you?” Zand asked, watching and grimacing when Amir accidentally allowed his sword to connect with her shin. She limped around him doubled over, clutching her leg, and threatening him with dire repercussions.
“Apparently,” Alan muttered, trying to force himself to turn away. He had things to do, important things, things that must be done to prepare for the visit of his father.
“Is this a permanent arrangement?”
Alan slid him a glance. “If you were anyone else, I’d have your head for such impertinence.”
“Nooo,” Zand drawled. “Prince Akbar might, but not Alan Dubain. When are you going to tell her about that?”
He shrugged. He’d started to tell her the truth while they were on theNightwing, but the time wasn’t right. Even so, the fact that he was keeping Alan Dubain a secret from her was starting to rankle. He knew the time was coming when he’d have to reveal the truth to her. “Whenever the time is right. It’s not important now.”
“It will be if you plan on returning to William’s court after the imperator’s visit.”
“I’ll deal with it then. Right now, I have to survive her training. And my father.”
“You might want to mention Alan Dubain sooner rather than later,” Zand said, walking with him when one of the men arrived bearing messages that had been forwarded to Tozeur. “You know how women are about that sort of thing.”
“I doubt if she’s even heard of me,” he answered, guilt pricking at him. “Octavia isn’t likely to talk about me to anyone.”
“Not even her new husband?”
Alan smiled. Despite his initial reservations, he liked Jack Fletcher. The American was head over ears in love with Octavia, a fact that pleased Alan, since Octavia remained high in his estimation, a former lover who had become a cherished friend. “I doubt if she’s told him, although it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had. He can be trusted.”
Zand was silent for a few minutes while the messenger dismounted and hurried over to Alan with a satchel. “Have you thought of sending her away?”
“Hallie?”
“Aye.”
Alan eyed him, wondering if his friend had taken a sudden aversion to the woman who was fast dominating all his attention, but after a moment’s thought, he understood. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“She’s American. If you’re serious about her—and frankly if you’re not, I’ll take her—your father is sure to make a scene.”
“So I should tell Safie that you’re no longer pining for her?” he asked, his voice a little acid at the idea of anyone else being the recipient of Hallie’s inventive attentions.
Zand glared. “You do, and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Alan asked, his voice mild.
