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“I prefer to talk dirty.” He chuckled, then caught himself. “Bad joke, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been here so long…” He gave himself a shake, making that blond mane sway. “Not a good excuse.”
With a sigh, he turned back to the wall and stuck his arms behind his back. Now what was he doing?
“Sorry again,” he said, though the words were muffled by the wall.
I stared. What now?
“Go ahead.” He wiggled his arms against his back. “Do what you must. I deserve the worst.”
It was definitely some kind of trick. I had to beware.
But that was hard, and getting harder all the time, because something about him drew me in, whispering, You can trust me.
We can trust him, my second self agreed.
A voice somewhere deep in my soul echoed the message more ominously. You must trust him.
Then I came to my senses. I couldn’t trust anyone, especially not with family secrets no one could ever discover.
I nearly backed away, worried he might somehow pick up my scent. Unlikely, given how faint and unusual it was. Most people — even shifters — put it down to a flowery perfume.
Instead, I succumbed to temptation and inched closer. Close enough to kiss, technically, but with the point of my blade grazing his back instead.
His broad, muscled back. Between that and the notion of a kiss, my knees wobbled a little bit.
“Go on,” he urged.
Kiss him? Kill him? Which did he mean?
“Go on with what?” I demanded.
“Whatever you were going to do once you subdued me.”
I frowned. Frankly, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. All the self-defense plans I’d learned counted on screaming to bring guards running to my defense. That, or I was supposed to run for it. But I was exactly where I wanted to be. Why would I leave?
I stepped back, keeping my dagger ready. “Who are you? What do you want here?”
He turned slowly, and whoa. That face was definitely wasted in a monastery. The hard, muscled body too. He ought to be off crusading with my godfather, the king.
“I’m Tuck.”
“Tuck who?”
He shrugged. “Just Tuck. I’m a monk. Well, training to be.”
“Ha. I don’t believe that for a minute. You’ve been sent by Prince John, haven’t you?”
He cocked his head. “Sent by Prince John to…?” Then his jaw went all hard, even angry. “Wait. Are you in danger? Is he after you?”
His voice went a little hopeful, like he’d been waiting years for a fair maiden to rescue.
Well, no thank you. I didn’t wait, and I certainly didn’t need to be rescued.
Then his eyes went wide, and he got even more excited. “Have you been locked up here?”
God, men and their brave knight complexes!
I stuck my hands on my hips. “No, I am not locked up. Even if I were, do you really think I’d leave my fate to a random man arriving at the right place and time to save me? And he’d have no strings attached, of course. Only my hand in marriage and entrapment as his bedmate forever.”
