Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(52)

It was just a meeting … in the baths. I groan and sink to the floor beside my bed.

Hours later I creak open the door, a wide smile beneath my veil because I’ve figured a way out of the meeting. My guards will follow me down. When they see Jovan’s guards there, they’ll make their own assumptions. It would be damaging to our reputations and spark more unsettlement in a time of unrest.

My excuses die on my lips as I take a step out of the door and look around me. My watch are gone! I close the door behind me and walk down the hall and wide stone steps. Maybe they’re at the bottom?

They’re not.

I fume that Jovan has foiled my escape plans. No doubt the guards think they’re on some ‘important mission.’ I stand at the base of the steps, looking back up to my room, and then to my right—in the direction of the baths. Tapping my foot, I let the two sides of me engage in a furious debate. It’s easy to analyze the head, not so easy to interpret the heart. Being Solati hasn’t helped me much there.

Jovan will be waiting.

I throw my hands in the air and stomp down the hall in the direction of the baths, disrupting the quiet, flickering firelight from the torches lining the walls. Like last sector, I skim around the kitchens through the meeting rooms, just in case there are Bruma there, and duck out of the doorway. Unlike last time, the walkway to the baths has now been covered in. It would take my people a year to do this much work. Our smaller population hindered rapid progress such as this.

I push open the door and stride into the baths with measured steps. I listen carefully for sound. Jovan’s not here. My shoulders sag, though there is a sharpness in my chest, which makes me think I’m feeling something other than relief at the discovery he’s not here. Pricking my ears once more, I remove my veil to take a better look around the baths while I wait for him.

He’ll come. He’s the one who asked me here.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” a voice says. I squeak and jump around to face the sound.

I stare wide-eyed for a few moments before whirling back to face the wall. Jovan standing. Naked. In the water. I squeeze my eyes shut against the image of his hard chest as my stomach flips inside of me. Triple backflips, by the feel of it.

“A half hour had passed since our arranged appointment. I decided to put the time to good use and enjoy the baths,” he continues. My eyes narrow at the laughter I detect in his voice.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say in a high voice. I frown and clear my throat. “I’ll just leave to you to it, with my apologies,” I say, nearly running for the door.

“Olina. We spent a night together. You’ve seen my body many times. Unless, you find the sight displeasing?” he asks, drawing the word out. I refuse to answer. Anything I might say would just make the situation worse. But I do know I could never find Jovan’s sculptured body displeasing. Splashes behind me let me know he’s submerged himself.

I retrace my steps, taking a seat on the cold stone bench as the king resurfaces. He meets my eyes with an amused glance and I glare at him, refusing to look away. He raises an eyebrow and gestures to the surrounding water.

“There’s enough water for two in here,” he offers. His words make me angry. I know enough to see the implication in his words, and where it may lead.

“Jovan, you’re not helping. You know we can’t repeat what happened.” My words echo loudly across the cavernous room.

I watch as he runs water up his arm and it trickles back down to join the pool. “And why would it be so disastrous to repeat?” he asks calmly. I wrench my gaze up to his, spluttering.

“Are you serious? We can never be together properly. Despite what happened between us, I’m not the kind of person to have … relations with any attractive male. I’m not going to sleep with you for the sake of it,” I say in an outraged voice, standing up.

Jovan, on the other hand, remains composed, trickling water over his other arm.

“That’s all there is to it?” he asks. “You worry what people will think?”

I move to the bath’s edge. “I worry what people will do,” I clarify.

He runs a hand over his chest, and I give up trying to look away until he chuckles. I flush and look at the bench beside me.

“Has it ever occurred to you that a union between us could strengthen the relationship between our worlds?” he asks softly.

I’m rendered immobile for a few moments, and unfurl my crossed arms, glancing back to meet his wary eyes. What did he just say? My heart thuds in my chest and my hands shake beside me. I ball them into fists, nails digging into palms.

“Strengthen?” I say weakly, giving a short, humorless laugh.

He shrugs one massive, sculpted shoulder. “Why not? It’s a new idea, but surely you can see the merits,” he says.

“I…” I snap my mouth shut. “Why would you want to, though?” My voice quickens as my reaction escapes me. Solis, he can’t be serious. How could two worlds possibly be joined in this way?

He’s judging me. His gaze is scorching, and full of something more. I saw it the night of the first ball as we sat listening to the musicians. It’s the look he had as he pinned me to the wall telling me I wouldn’t be learning to handle the dogsleds. It’s the same expression he had as we moved together that night. I stand tense, strung so tightly I feel my spine may crack from the strain. I watch as he shutters his expression. The burning in his eyes slowly fades as contemplates me.