The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(49)

He expected a retort, or maybe a slap in the face, which could lead to more intimate contact—instead, she hardly seemed to notice his words. Blinking, as if concentrating on standing upright, she walked over to him, teetering every now and again.

Reuben frowned. She didn’t look like the lust-ridden creature he’d been expecting and hoping for. She didn’t even look remotely desiring or passionate. Instead, she looked rather queasy.

At his bedside, she hesitated for a moment. “May I sit down for a little while?” She swayed again, putting a hand on her stomach. “I…think I need to sit down. I feel a little full at the moment.”

“Um…sure.” Not quite sure what she meant by that, Reuben gestured to the space beside him. “It's your bed, too. By all means.”

“Thanks.”

She slumped down onto the bed beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and groaning with relief. Reuben would have liked to believe the reason for the groan was her incredible, insuppressible sexual attraction to him, but somehow, he doubted it.

Still, things could always change. Carefully, he snaked his arm around her shoulders and held her. She didn't seem to mind. But she didn’t throw herself at him either. How disappointing.

Another groan escaped Ayla’s throat. “Have you ever been forced to eat an entire loaf of brown bread, six sausages, and one roasted chicken?”

“Can't say that I have,” mused Reuben, caressing her shoulder with a thumb. Her dress didn’t sit very tightly, there. Maybe he’d be able to work it off her shoulder if he was patient. “I have been forced to eat rats, once, though. Does that help?”

Her eyes flew open, and she jerked, pulling the shoulder of her dress out of his reach. God’s toenails!

“Rats? Real rats?”

He smirked. This had apparently impressed her. If she’d only let him impress her in other ways…“Well, they weren't imaginary ones.”

“Dear me,” she muttered, still looking dazed. “In that case, I guess I should feel lucky. If you don't mind me asking…how did they taste?”

“The rats?”

Slowly, he started moving his hand up towards her shoulder again. The strap there was still hanging temptingly loosely.

“Yes.”

He shook his head solemnly. “Sorry, I can't tell you.”

Ayla scowled at him and sat up straight. Again, the strap was outside his reach. God’s toenails, and fingernails, with all the dirt of a thousand years!

“And why not?” she demanded.

“Because I would have to use certain words in the description—words that, I've been told recently, are not fit for the ears of a lady.”

Her adorable scowl deepened, and Reuben was just beginning to have fun, in spite of her still being dressed, when her expression was replaced by one of pain.

“Why were you forced to eat rats?” she whispered.

Reuben’s hand stopped halfway to her shoulder. An image flashed in front of his mind's eye: dirty walls, rusted shackles, clotted blood…No! He didn't want to think of the dungeon. Not here, not now, not while he was with her. For the first time in days, she was looking at him without hatred and suspicion. He couldn’t shatter that with the darkness that was inside him.

“I've been in a lot of tight places,” he replied with an evasive wave of his hand. “Nothing to worry about now.”

She was about to contradict him—but he didn't want to waste their time worrying about troubles of the past. They had more than enough troubles of the present to deal with. Sighing, he let his hand fall away from her shoulder. Now wasn’t the time. There were things he needed to find out.

“So, tell me,” he asked, “have you found out how those bastards got into the castle, yet?”

“Yes. Captain Linhart came and showed me—” She suddenly broke off and glared at him disapprovingly. And he wasn’t even trying to take her clothes off right now.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“What did I tell you about using foul language in my castle?”

“Hmm…actually, I can’t remember.”

Her glare intensified, and she crossed her arms. But Reuben was not to be outdone by a girl. He glared back at her, knowing full well that his glare was ten times as potent as hers. All those years of intimidating people on the road into giving him their money with just a wink of his eye paid off now. He was not going to allow her to sidetrack him. Not when her safety was at stake.

“How did they get in?” he repeated sternly.

Ayla sighed. “Well, it’s like this…”

Reuben listened intently, while Ayla explained about finding the grappling hook. Even before she ceased speaking, he could feel worry creeping up in him. He had taken a close look at the castle wall. He always took a close look at anything connected with war and battle. What Ayla told him didn't quite add up.

Throwing a grappling hook up that wall sounded incredibly hard, if not impossible. Yet, if it wasn’t thrown, there was only one alternative. One he didn’t like to consider.

Satan’s hairy ass! Let me be wrong. Please, let me be wrong!





Sir Reuben the Coward

Ayla watched Reuben anxiously. She had just finished telling him about the grappling hook, and now his forehead lay in creases. He was obviously worried about something.