The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(44)

“Your hand,” she cried in distress. “Your hand is still burning! We have to get water!”

She tried to move away but found Reuben's arms tightly wrapped around her, unwilling to let go. The feeling warmed her heart—yet unfortunately, since one of the aforementioned arms was still smoldering, it also warmed other parts of her which found the sensation less congenial.

“Reuben, please let go? My dress will catch fire.”

He released her immediately and looked at her with the most adorable, nefarious grin she had ever seen. “Oops.”

“Oops?” she echoed. “That's all you have to say? Oops?” With one hand, she motioned at her guards. “Go and get a bowl of water.”

When she heard no movement, not even a 'Yes, Milady,' she turned and saw they were all still standing there, staring at Reuben's hand. It wasn't really still burning. He had let go of the torch up on the wall. But the metal of his gauntlet still glowed red in places, and the leather underneath was smoking.

“Go!” she yelled. “Water! Now! Or I will put you all in the stocks come tomorrow!”

That got their attention. Two or three hurried off towards the keep.

One side of Reuben's mouth quirked up. “More threats of violence?”

Ayla scowled at him. She wasn't in the mood to joke right now. “You stupid fool! You have a codpiece[11] for brains, do you know that? Why on earth did you go after that monster alone? You could have been seriously hurt, or killed even!”

His eyes lit up. “Concerned for me, were you?” he asked in so self-satisfied a purr that it only made her scowl deepen.

“In your dreams!”

His insolent grin widened, and he leaned forward, whispering into her ear, “I doubt that. In my dreams, you wear a lot less clothing.”

She gasped, and the blood rushed to her face. How dare he?

He was Reuben, the robber knight. That's how.

“Here, Milady.” The bowl of water had arrived. One of the guards had returned and held it out to her. She felt that her face, red hot as it was, was just as much in need of the water as Reuben's hand, but in spite of that fact, she gestured to Reuben.

“He needs it, not me.”

“Err…yes, Milady, but…”

Ayla saw the man's eyes flicker fearfully towards Reuben's smoking hand. Oh Lord. They were afraid of him.

“Give that here,” she said, rolling her eyes. Taking the bowl from the man, who was sweating relief out of every pore, she took two steps towards Reuben and held the bowl out to him. The smile vanished from his handsome features as he held up his hand, gauntlet and all, and slowly lowered it into the water.

Steam exploded upwards into the night in a great, swirling column. The guards staggered back several steps, and even Ayla had to muster all her bravery to remain standing where she was. The steam was gripped by the wind and blown towards them. It seemed as though the bowl of simple water had been turned into a witch’s cauldron, and the clouds of steam rising from it were, in fact, the mists of Avalon.

Of course, it wasn't. It was just steam from a bowl—or at least, that was what Ayla tried to tell her wildly beating heart.

During the entire time Reuben's hand was in the bowl, his face was totally impassive, his gray raptor eyes boring into hers. He didn't show one single sign of pain, but rather seemed busy looking for something in her expression. What it might be he was searching for, she had no idea. Fear? Disgust?

Whatever it was, he wouldn’t find it.

When the steam from the bowl finally began to abate, Reuben nodded and removed his hand. “That was long enough, I think.”

He didn't say any more. Nor did the guards utter a single word. Ayla realized that they were waiting for her to say something. Right—she was the lady of the castle. She was supposed to be in charge. Recent events had pretty much driven that fact from her mind. You didn't feel very much in charge with a knife at your throat.

“Captain Linhart?”

The Captain stepped forward and executed a very correct bow that in no way betrayed the fact that, less than a quarter of an hour ago, she had landed on top of him. Ayla was very grateful for his quiet efficiency.

“The mercenaries must have entered the castle somehow,” she said, speaking to Linhart but watching Reuben out of the corner of her eyes. “But not through the main gates, I think.”

“I agree, Milady,” the Captain replied promptly. “Had they been able to force open the gates without our knowledge, they would have swarmed in here in hundreds, and we would have been overrun.”

“That's what I thought. There must be a hole somewhere through which those rats are coming in. I want it found and sealed. Understood?”

“It shall be as you command, Milady.” Again, Linhart bowed. Then, motioning three other soldiers to follow him, he began to move towards the wall, but then halted, as if he had just thought of something.

“The rest of you—stay here and guard Lady Ayla,” he ordered.

Ayla shook her head. “That will not be necessary, Captain.”

“Forgive me, Milady, but you don't know that. We have no proof that that fat monster was the last of the intruders. There could be more of them lurking about. Even if they see that it is impossible to abduct you now, with the entire castle in an uproar, they might want to…” He hesitated.