Page 45 of Esperance

She should say no. She should take the salve from him, thank him for his help, and leave to do the rest herself. Getting close to him for the rebels was one thing, but this . . .

This was something else entirely.

Her body moved without her giving the order. She twisted to face him, her lower back now pressed against the hard edge of the counter. She tilted her chin up. She couldn’t meet his gaze, so she stared at his jaw as he leaned in, the crisp smell of the aloe mixing with the spicy sandalwood scent that was purely him.

The brush of his fingertips against the curve of her cheek made her knees weak. She gripped the counter’s edge behind her, silently ordering herself to stop reacting to a stupid, medicinal touch,but her body didn’t seem interested in listening. While his smooth touch drifted over her cheeks, offering relief to the burn on her skin, it only strengthened the burn low in her belly.

Feeling the heat and intensity ofhisemotions didnothelp.

As he angled his head for a better view of the side of her face, she caught sight of the small scar on his chin that she’d noticed at the altar. Out of all the scars on his body, it would be the easiest to ask about. But despite the strange intimacy of the moment, she didn’t feel like she could.

His fingers skimmed along her jaw, leaving a tingling trail. Then his fingertips dipped to her throat.

Her breath caught.

His fingers stilled, then curled away.

She nearly leaned in to follow his retreating hand, but he was only scooping up more of the ointment to apply to her throat.

A tremble skated through her entire body at his gentle touch.

When he finally shifted back, she could feel the pulse of his reluctance.

Strange, how it echoed her own.

She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. “Thank you, Carver.”

His throat flexed as he swallowed. “You’re welcome.”

The moment felt weighted, and neither of them moved.

A distant knock on the main suite door made her jump. She straightened sharply, and Carver took a deliberate step back, the jar of ointment dangling from his long fingers.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, because she didn’t know what else to say. Then she ducked her head and fled to the safety of the bedroom.

Carver left with Argent soon after the prince had come knocking. Today was the first time they’d any free time; the high cleric was busy tending to matters of Esperance and couldn’t oversee their usual morning activities. Amryn planned to take full advantage.

She ate the breakfast Ahmi had carried in on a tray, enjoying the simple pleasure of eating a meal alone. Then she found a book and curled up in a chair in the suite’s sitting room.

Concentrating on the words proved nearly impossible. All she could think of was Carver’s touch, and the unexpected way her body had reacted. After nearly half an hour spent on the same page, she gave up.

Pushing out of the cushioned chair, Amryn dropped the book and went to get a drink of water.

The sight of a letter on the floor near the door stopped her cold.

The envelope had a crimson dot of wax, and it had clearly been slid under the main suite door; it hadn’t been there when she first sat down with the book.

Pulse jumping, Amryn retrieved the letter. Flipping it over, she saw it was addressed toLady Vincetti,with no indication of who had sent it.

She cracked the wax seal and unfolded the stiff paper.

Lady Vincetti,

Good news! As you requested, I checked Esperance’s library, and we do indeed have a copy ofZerrif’s Voyage. It is the unabridged version, which I knew was of particular interest to you. It even includes his visit to the snowy mountains of Sibet!

It would be best not to remove the book from the library, but you may come view it at any time.

Do let me know if I can be of further assistance.

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