Page 92 of Winter's Scorching Kisses
“We’ve gotten off the subject at hand. Close your eyes.” She did as he bid. “Now, why would his interest in you puzzle you?”
“He had so many women interested in him at court, because of his good looks and decent wealth.” She paused. “I never understood why he chose me over all those other women. There were richer women than myself who wanted his attention.”
Mathar wasn’t sure where to go from here. “Perhaps you should continue this with your sister.”
“What?” Adorra’s eyes remained closed. “You were the one who started this and thought it might do me some good, and now you just want to end it?”
“Then why do you believe he chose you?” His eyes skimmed over her. Her hair was all over the place after their rough lovemaking the previous night, and he began to count the reasons why he would choose her.
“Well, according to my sister, he wanted to kill me for the little land and wealth that would come with marrying me.” Adorra shrugged. “If she’s to be believed, then that means he would have chosen me because… I had no family to wonder about my death if I was killed.” Her eyes shot wide, and she looked at him wearily. “I think that’s enough for today.”
Before he could reach out and comfort her, she’d slipped off her side of the bed and padded over to her clothing. He watched her beautiful behind as she padded over the stone floor. And then she bent over giving him quite the pleasing view of her still engorged lips.
“I think I could get used to such a delectable view.” He purred from over on the bed.
Adorra straightened and cast him a frown. “Don’t get too used to it. It won’t last forever.”
He smirked as she turned her attention to the fur dress in front of her. It may not last forever, but he was going to enjoy it thoroughly while he had it.
Mathar jumped off the bed. She wasn’t the only one who needed to get dressed and get their day started. Dryden was finally going to show him the plot of land he would be able to call his own, and he couldn’t wait to see it.
Adorra gasped behind him, and he spun around not knowing what to expect. She stared at him like he’d done something that was most horrible.
“What is it?”
“You… your back.” She whispered. “Those scars. How have I not seen them before now?”
Mathar had forgotten about them. He shrugged them off. “They happened long ago.”
“But they,” Adorra stepped closer reaching out a hand, “they look so horrible.”
He spun away from her reaching hand before she could touch him. “As I said, it happened long ago.”
“But who did that to you?” Adorra’s eyes shined with compassion.
“Does it matter?”
“It depends, was the person who dealt you those blows ever punished?”
“He is dead.”
Adorra frowned. “And let me guess, you won’t tell me more than that.”
“Why would you be interested?” Mathar shoved his legs into his pant legs and then quickly did his belt before throwing on his shirt to hide his scars. There was a reason he barely ever took his shirt off, except to sleep. People always asked too many questions about it, and he hated the stares it would always attract.
“The pain you must have endured. How long ago did it happen?” Her hazel eyes stared up at him, pitying him… no, not pity, compassion.
“I think we’ve discussed enough of this.”
“How can you not tell me more?”
He glanced over at her and saw the pain in her hazel eyes. For some reason, his scars seemed to be paining her, but there was no need for anyone to think more on it. “As you’ve made clear several times,” he stepped closer to her, “we are nothing to each other.” With that, he left the room.
He wasn’t going to get into it with Adorra. There was no need for her to know more about his past, to know Edmund hadn’t been the only person he’d killed.
Mathar shook his head as he pushed down all the memories of his father that were trying to crawl their way back into his mind. He wouldn’t let them clog his mind with anger and despair.
All he hoped now was that Adorra could remember something that would help her see the truth about Edmund. There was a passion in Jasmine’s eyes when she talked about it, and he knew there had to be signs. All Adorra had to do was think about it, and hopefully, he had helped to plant a seed of doubt that would sprout and show her what she was missing.
