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“Oh!” I said as his rumbly timbre washed over me. With a huff, I leaped from the mattress. “Go ahead, Chuckles. Laugh it up.” So badly I longed to blame him for my position. Accuse him of picking me up and carting me to the bed. But a hazy remembrance lurked in the back of my mind. Tossing and turning for far too long before deciding to sleep in a chair.
When the chair had proved even more uncomfortable than the floor, I’d inched my way onto the bed, certain I could maintain my distance from Callen.
“Just know.” I wagged an index finger at him, then shoved errant locks of hair from my eyes. “You may have won a minor battle, but you haven’t won the war.”
“Are you sure?” He sounded smugger, if that were possible. “You’re eating me up with your gaze again.”
Argh! What had brought about this comfortable, almost playful change in him? And what could I do to reverse it? Because dang. He was all kinds of charming, and I wasn’t a fan. Not in the slightest bit. Nope. Not even a little bit.
I anchored my hands on my hips. Time for desperate measures. “Remember how much you hate me? With good reason! I’m a terrible person. The worst!”
“You are, aye,” he agreed. “But I think I like you, anyway.”
What! How dare he agree with me and offer a compliment in the same breath?
And he wasn’t even done. “In your description, you forgot to mention the most important fact.” A sense of possession radiated from him. “You are mine.”
It was the second time he’d claimed me, and my brain sort of short-circuited.
“We have a busy day ahead,” he announced before I thought up a response. “The American king has come tomeet you and pay his respects. We’re to convene at the stones in two hours.”
Oooh. Could I sneak into the American’s entourage, if he had one, to get home? Wait. “The stones? As in pieces of the Starfire?” Had it been found? Could it reverse what had been done?
Frowning as if I’d mentioned something I shouldn’t, Callen tilted his head. “No one has seen the Starfire since its disappearance. I’m speaking of the traveling stones in neutral territory. You will wear a ceremonial gown. I’ve taken the liberty of selecting it for you. It’s hanging in our closet.”
Ourcloset? Oh! The traveling stones! I’d get to see them. But, uh, ceremonial gown? Panic sparked. A ceremonial gown pointed to a formal occasion. A formal occasion pointed to countless traditions. Countless traditions pointed to things I should know how to do and say, but didn’t. What if I gave myself away?
I needed time apart from him so I could read more of my book and find out what in the world he was talking about. “Are you wearing your listening ears? I’m taking a shower to prepare for a better day, and you are not to enter the bathroom for any reason. Got it?”
“I will no’ enter. You have my word. Unless you’re in danger or the clock runs out.” He held up his hands, palms out, still so at ease. “Now that I know it’s coming, I’d rather wait for your invitation.”
He couldn’t know…I wouldn’t… What a frustrating, annoying, too sexy man! Huffing again, I gathered my things, including the book, and stomped into the en suite, kicking the door shut behind me. No lock. Because who would dare burst in upon a king? But fine. Whatever. I could roll with this. To my astonishment, I didn’t fear an unwanted visit from Callen. I guess part of me actually trusted him.
I mean, when you thought about it, he wasn’t such a bad guy. He was an amazing father, his love for his daughter undeniable. I had yet to see a true hint of his rage. And, if the parts of the history book I’d devoured were to be believed, berserkers lived by an unbreakable code. They didn’t lie, as he’d claimed, and they didn’t betray one another unless evil invaded their hearts. Despite my supposed terrible past with Callen, they considered me part of the fold. A fated mate. The calmer of the Big, Bad Beast.
But what was I even doing right now? Mooning over him rather than focusing on surviving the ceremony—and the fact that I’d soon be spending another night in his arms?
Chapter
Fourteen
From Folklore to Foreplay: Understanding Your Berserker’s Roots
FromA Beginner’s Guide to Berserker Bliss
Author Unknown
My heart thumped as I approached the full-length mirror in a closet bigger than my living room at home. Deep breath in. Out. Didn’t help. Perspiration dotted my palms as I caught sight of myself.
Wow. Okay. ‘Hated’ wasn’t a strong enough word. I might as well be a genie from a bottle, here to grant wishes. Pearls and gemstones encrusted a sheer blue bra masquerading as a top. To counter its weight and reveal cleavage galore, some kind of stiff boning rimmed different parts of the garment. Transparent pantaloons with cinched ankles and fabric seemingly dipped in diamond powder hung low on my waist and unabashedly displayed pantiesthat matched the bra. Delicate ribbons wound around my feet, pretending to be shoes. A train stretched from the waist of my pants, pooling at my heels, the only reason Callen could get away with calling the outfit a ceremonial “gown.” How in the world did this become protocol?
I’d done more reading after a fast shower and lost track of time, allowing me to apply minimal makeup. Isobel’s freckles were stark against her pale skin, her waterfall of scarlet waves pinned at the sides. I had to admit, she was a beautiful woman. And persistent. My phone lay on a nearby cushioned bench. For the thousandth time in the past hour and a half, my name had flashed on the cell’s screen.
No doubt she was calling about the cash. I hadn’t answered before, and I didn’t answer now. We would only argue about the money, wasting precious minutes I couldn’t spare. She wouldn’t make a play against my mother and risk losing a payout; she’d wait until she heard from me. Any second, Callen would arrive and?—
“I do like when you follow my orders.”
His low, husky voice filled the space. I spun, my jaw dropping when I spotted him. Every pulse point came to instant life. He looked spectacular. Hot enough to leave a brand. He wore a leather loincloth and odd pieces of armor, going from businessman to barbarian, and I really, really liked it. Almost as much as I liked highlanders in kilts.
