Page 23 of The Gambler's Prize
”I’m fine,” I say. “Just overheated.”
“No wonder, always wearing that hood and cloak even in this heat,” he says.
Before I know what’s happening, his hands are going up to push down my hood. Panicking, I grab his wrists and push him back, much harder than I meant. He overbalances and falls onto his back and I land on top, pinning his wrists to the ground.
“Never do that again,” I say.
His eyes are wide as he looks up at me. He doesn’t struggle against my grip. “I just thought—”
“Well, stopjust thinking.”
“I was worried about you. You’re working too hard.”
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” he says. “Sorry.”
I should get up now. He gets it. He won’t try to mess with my hood in future. But I stay where I am, looking down at his blue eyes, those pink lips. The heat seems to intensify even though we’re in the shade. The silence gets heavy, metallic.
“Boss?” he says.
“What?”
He looks at me for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Chapter 10
Grimes
Florian might be right: we’re spending too much time together, just the two of us. It’s claustrophobic. It’s making us look at each other in the wrong way. Only because of proximity and boredom. I’m not like Florian. I don’t think the answer lies in the arms of a stranger in the city. But it couldn’t hurt to get out a little more. The obvious solution is to widen our social circle. Take our minds off each other. Dinner at Breta’splace should work. Florian hasn’t met my neighbor or her family yet, not through lack of trying on Breta’s part. She’s a kind, sociable woman, and she’s asked to meet him several times. But I’ve kept him away. I suspect that Breta judges me for exploiting him with indentured servitude. She knows about the bet, but not about Florian’s role in my past or my justified desire for revenge. She thinks he’s just a stranger that I managed to entrap into some cheap labor because I can’t afford to pay real wages. She wouldn’t understand the truth.
While we’re drying dishes, I tell Florian we’ll be having dinner at Breta’s tomorrow evening.
“Both of us?” he says.
“Yes.”
“Will I be… I mean, will I be eating with you or the other servants?” His voice is quieter than normal and he’s rolling one of his beaded bracelets around and around on his wrist. Back in Rhennes his family must’ve had servants, and of course they didn’t eat with the family. Nowhe’sthe servant.
“It’s just Breta and her daughters,” I say. “There are no other servants. We’ll all be eating together.”
“Oh. Okay.” He brightens up, right back to his usual sunny self. “I can’t wait. Of course, I’ll need to think about my outfit…”
Maybe I’ve been keeping him a bit too sequestered if he’s this enthused about a trip to the neighbor’s house.
“It’s just a quiet family dinner, not one of your wild nights out,” I warn.
“I know. Even so. Thank you so much for inviting me, Boss.”
He comes toward me, beaming. His arms are ominously open. I back away like he has a weapon.
“Are you trying to hug me?” I demand.
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes, it is. No hugging.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, scowling. “How’d I know you wouldn’t be a hugger?” he mutters, loud enough for me to hear.
