The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(158)



“I didn't…” Ayla stopped herself, as she realized what he had said. “What? Expensive to make? What are you talking about?”

“Gloves.” Reuben's eyes glittered with mischief. “You see, my gauntlets became rusty from the rain, and they have been damaged in the fighting anyway. And when your father offered to fulfill the deepest wish of my heart, I was looking at your hand and remembered. I thought that maybe he would pay for a new pair of gloves. After all, he said that I could name anything that was in his power to give.”

“Reuben…”

“But as I said, now that you have mentioned it, I see that I was excessive. Greedy, even. I should have thought of something more moderate. A nice handkerchief, maybe. Or a bottle of wine.”

“Reuben…”

She began to advance slowly on him. He just stood there, his grin widening even farther.

“Yes, Milady?”

“Wait until I get my hands on you!”

“I look forward to it very much. Which parts of me were you thinking of getting your hands on, specifically?”

“Reuben!”

“If you don't have any preferences, I have a few suggestions.”

She changed her course and, instead of attacking him, went right for the door and slammed it shut.

“Are you mad?” she whispered, leaning against the door. “Be quiet! Supposing somebody heard that!”

“Yes, you're right.”

He nodded and started towards her. “For what I have in mind, we definitely need privacy.”

“That's not what I meant!”

“Really?” He stopped only a short distance away from her.

“You know,” he said in a voice that oozed liquid seduction, “it occurred to me that, if I'm not going to ask a reward from your father, I might simply take one from you.”

“Me?”

Ayla dearly wished her voice wouldn't sound so small. But she simply couldn't find the right tone of voice while he was looking at her like that.

“Oh yes, you.”

He took another step forward. Now, only inches separated them. “After all, you are in charge here, so why not come to you? For one, I warned you the other day, on the wall, that I would get back at you for making me help you carry clumsy, wounded oafs and mix stinking salves. For another, I'm still owed my compensation.”

“You were never owed a compensation!” Ayla said, her voice marginally stronger. “Your story about being a merchant who was robbed in the forest was all lies, remember?”

“Oh yes, so it was, now that you mention it. But,” he added with a deliciously threatening smirk, “I might just decide to take my compensation anyway.”

I have to get away, Ayla thought desperately. If I don't get away right now, something is going to happen. And God forgive me, I might even want it to!

“What form of compensation were you thinking of?” she asked, her voice sounding breathless in her own ears.

Reuben leaned forward even more, until his lips brushed her ear.

“I think you know,” he whispered.

Ayla opened her mouth to reply that she had no idea…or maybe to do something very different with her lips than replying. But a knock from behind her stopped her. Knock? Who would knock against a wall? But…that wasn't the wall she was leaning against. She was leaning against a door, which meant…

“Somebody's outside!”

Quickly, she pushed Reuben away, straightened her dress, and tried her best to calm her breathing.

Nothing happened, she told herself. Nothing was going to happen. He was just talking nonsense as usual.

Really? Was he?

“Y-yes?” she called.

A servant entered, a steaming bowl in his hand. “Begging your pardon, Milady, I did not know you were here. I’m bringing Milord his supper.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Reuben asked, eying the small servant with displeasure. The man shrank back. “Well, I'm going to remember your face. Be careful about when you bring supper next time.”

“Don't mind him,” Ayla told the servant who looked about ready to drop the bowl and run. “Just go up. I'm sure my father is waiting for the meal.”

Then she fled from the room without looking at Reuben.

~~*~~*

Over the next few days, Ayla did her best to prevent a recurrence of what had happened—well, nearly happened—in the chamber beneath her father's tower. Not that she avoided Reuben, no. She simply made sure that, whenever they met, there were other people in the room with them.

He seemed to find this highly amusing. One day, when he was passing by her, he whispered in her ear, “You know I'll catch you sooner or later.”

The words sent a delicious shiver down her back.

What had happened in that room—indeed everything that had happened with Reuben since they met—had thrown Ayla into an agonizing, exciting world of unexplored possibilities. In her younger days, as sole heir to her father, she had always expected to be married off to some noble one day, like so many other noble daughters. But then her mother died, and her father's sickness had struck, and arranging a marriage had been the last thing on his mind. Besides, he loved her dearly and didn't seem overly anxious to part with her. Still, she had expected to make a marriage of convenience some day. All the things to do with the desires of the body, the things the priests preached so vigorously against, were, of course, to come after marriage, as every virtuous man and woman knew.

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