So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(111)

After a while, Brody landed nearby, then quickly shifted and dressed. “They don’t know your location. The captain thinks you’ve run away like a coward, but the general thinks you’re planning to ambush them. Meanwhile, they came up with a plan to kill a dragon tomorrow morning. They’re going to lure one into flying close to them where the gorge narrows, and that’s when they’ll attack.”

Rupert nodded. “Then I’ll be at the gorge tomorrow, too.”

“Good. Let’s see if they have any food left. I’m starving.” Brody headed toward the clearing.

“I’ll be along soon.” Rupert watched the sun as it set over the mountains, painting the snow-covered peaks pink and gold. Could he ambush the two officers and kill them?

You’re an honorable man. Brigitta’s words haunted him. There had to be another way. It would rip his heart to shreds if he lost her love and respect. But he had to eliminate all the threats if he wanted the throne, and that was the only way to keep Brigitta safe.

*

A soft bark woke Brigitta from a light slumber. It was Brody, she thought, back in dog form for the night.

Over a dinner of dried beef and boiled potatoes, Brody and Stefan had urged her to take the oilcloth and most of the blankets inside the cave to make herself a bed. They would sleep outside by the campfire, taking turns with guard duty for the night.

Inside the cave, she’d wedged a small torch between several rocks to provide some light, then she’d set to work. First, she’d piled up a layer of spongy dried leaves and needles, then she’d covered them with the oilcloth tarp, and topped that with a blanket. After washing with the icy snowmelt that gathered in a stone basin, she’d folded up her skirt and blouse to make a pillow. Then she’d huddled beneath the last remaining blanket, wondering where Rupert had gone.

Was he still angry? Had it been a mistake to come here? Would he really try to kill a dragon? Questions had swirled in her mind till she had finally dozed off.

With Brody’s bark, she woke, but now it was too dark to see anything. The torch had burned out. She sat up and spotted a red glow in the distance through the narrow entrance to the cave. The campfire was still lit. She caught the sound of Rupert’s deep voice.

He was back.

She sighed with relief. Hopefully he was helping himself to some food. She lay back down and closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, she heard the soft scrape of booted feet entering the cave, and a light flickered against her closed eyelids. Was that Rupert?

She cracked open one eye to find that he’d wedged a small torch into the same spot where the burned-out one was. He leaned against a boulder and pulled off his boots. Then his socks.

When he started to walk toward her, she quickly closed her eyes. All was quiet for a while, but she could feel him looking at her. Beneath the blanket, her breasts felt heavy and her thighs—oh, no! Was this a reaction to the tonic she’d been taking? Her hands curled into fists, clenching the fabric of her shift.

The sound of splashing water tempted her to take another peek. Rupert had removed his cloak and shirt. With his breeches low on his hips, he leaned over the basin to scrub his face. Then he cupped some water and doused his hair. When he straightened, rivulets of water meandered down his muscular back. He lifted his hands to smooth back his wet hair, and the movement caused his muscles to bunch and ripple along his back and broad shoulders.

She sighed. How could a man be so beautiful? Perhaps he was more than a sorcerer of the wind, for he had certainly cast a spell on her. The flickering flames of the torch sent light dancing along the contours of his muscles. And goddesses help her, she wanted to run her hands over him and relish each and every inch of his body. Her thighs squeezed together as she recalled how he’d made her squirm and scream when they were in the grotto.

Dear goddesses, she wanted that again.

He dropped his breeches to the ground, and for a few breathless moments she stared at his buttocks. When he leaned over the basin to gather more water, a whimper escaped her mouth. He immediately straightened, pivoting toward her.

She turned her head, biting her lip and tightly shutting her eyes. Oh dear goddesses, he’d nearly caught her ogling him. But what was he doing, stripping and washing in front of her? He could have washed up outside at the waterfall. Did he intend to sleep inside the cave with her?

Oh, yes, please.

At the sound of more splashing water, she turned her back to him and clutched the blanket with her fists. Was it the tonic that was making her heart pound and her skin itch to be touched? She thought back to Rupert’s conversation with her in her bedroom at Lourdon Palace. It was only him that she wanted, no other man. So no, this wasn’t the tonic. This was her.

She wanted him something fierce.

Behind her, Rupert settled on her makeshift bed. “Are you awake?” he whispered.

Her eyes opened. Her fists tightened. “Are you still angry?” She could barely hear her own whisper over the sound of her heart thundering in her ears.

“No.” There was a pause. “I’m terrified. If anything were to happen to you, I don’t know how I could bear it.”

Her heart squeezed. The poor man. He’d lost everyone he’d ever loved. “You won’t lose me.”

“Brigitta.” He stroked her hair, and she rolled onto her back. Their gazes met as he leaned toward her, his golden eyes glimmering in the torchlight. “I love you.”