Page 45

He walked in and stopped dead at the sight of her.

Freya sank down further, her arms crossed over what little the water didn’t already hide, but not fast enough. She saw his eyes sweep over her, unhurried and thorough, and saw the hunger darken them, unapologetic, as though he had every right in the world to look at her like that.

The blush spread across her cheeks, traveling down her neck all the way to the swell of her breasts. She sank further into the water until she was submerged to her collarbones. Her arms wrapped tighter around her torso, though it did nothing to stop him from blatantly running his eyes over the length of her bare body.

She felt something stir deep inside. It was the feeling of being wanted by a man so wantonly, so shamelessly. She wasn’t scared, not in the way she had thought she would be. A small part of her wanted to see where that hunger could lead, but it was her lust taking control.

She realized she wanted him to stay, and that frightened her more than his gaze.

“What are ye doin’ in me chambers?” she managed, her voice coming out less steady than she’d have liked. “Daenae ye have yer own?”

It was an accusation, and she meant it.

But even as she said it, some traitorous part of her was cataloging the way he filled the doorway, the way his gaze had darkened as it moved over her, as though he had all the time in the world and meant to use every second of it.

She hated that her body responded before her mind could object, hated the warmth pooling low in her belly at nothing more than a look.

She was supposed to be angry. She was angry. But that didn’t stop her breath from catching when he stepped closer instead of retreating.

“Apparently, the maids thought we’d share.” He didn’t look sorry at all.

“Again?” she sighed.

He arched an eyebrow at her, entirely too pleased with himself for a man who’d just walked in on his wife bathing.

“Ye daenae enjoy me company, wife? I thought ye would, especially after how our marriage came to be.”

Freya scowled at the memory. She didn’t need ot be reminded of how they had met. The night was no longer a blur; it had come back to her in patches. Now that she remembered it all, she would rather not think of it. Even if the corners of her mouth quirked upward when she remembered the feathers.

“Turn around,” she said, her chin lifting despite the flush in her cheeks, “so I might get out and dress for bed like a decent woman, and nae like whatever ye’re imagining right now.”

He watched her, tilting his head to the side. The smirk never left his lips, much to her annoyance. She half expected him to say something, anything, but he remained stubbornly quiet, much to her dismay.

For a long moment, he didn’t move at all, and Freya wondered whether he meant to argue the point, whether he’d stand there until she was forced to either freeze in the cooling water or brazen it out in front of him.

Then he turned his back to her, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, scrambling out of the tub as quietly as she could and reaching for the linen draped over the nearby chair.

She almost slipped and bit back a squeak. She was afraid her squeak would alert Evander, who would turn around and then see her naked, which was exactly what he would want.

“Are ye decent yet, wife? Ye sure are taking yer time.”

Freya glowered at the back of his head. “Did ye forget I am dripping?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Oh, trust me, I didnae forget.”

She flushed, grabbing the linen and wrapping it around her chilled body, which was starting to heat up from his words alone.

She stood there, her thoughts tumbling over one another faster than her hands could move.

What was she doing? A fortnight ago, she’d been a woman with a plan. No husband, no children, no man’s eyes on her ever again. Now she stood in a castle that wasn’t hers, married to a man she’d sworn to leave, blushing like a girl because he’d seen her in the bath.

And the worst of it was that she hadn’t minded. Not truly.

17

Evander hadn’t intended to walk in on her. He had wanted to take a bath and wash away the stress and filth of the day. Apparently, his wife had the same idea because he heard her moving around inside once he was close enough.

He could’ve turned and walked away. It would’ve been easier to wait, but he couldn’t allow that. Part of him wanted a glimpse of her, a glimpse of the frustrating woman who didn’t realize how frustratingly beautiful she was.