To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(40)
For a start.
He cleared his throat and pushed away from the table, then pulled out her chair and helped her to her feet. He brought her fingers to his lips for a light kiss. “Thank you for an exceptional meal, Graciella.”
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” she smiled.
“Yes, and—” He forced himself to say the words. “It’s getting late, and…I’m very tired. I hope you don’t mind if I retire early?”
Her beautifully disappointed expression told him she did mind, but she recovered quickly. “No, of course not.”
“Shall I escort you to your room, then?” He was already breaking one of the rules he’d made the night before, but it was better than taking her to his study for more alcohol and fewer inhibitions. And he certainly wasn’t going to send her off to her empty wing alone.
She accepted the arm he offered. “Yes, thank you.”
He escorted her up the long staircases and walked with her down the vacant hallways to her room, praying her fireplace would be ablaze and there would be absolutely no excuse to go inside with her. When he opened the door, the warmth and glow of the fire was intact. He didn’t know whether to rejoice or cry. “Well, here we are,” he announced brusquely.
“Yes.” She looked up at him, not releasing his arm.
He peeled her fingers off his shirt, then folded them up and patted them before pushing them away. “I bid you good night, Miss Stovy.”
“Oh, ah, good night.” The forlorn look in her hazel eyes ripped a dagger through his heart.
“Just summon the guards if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“Thank you again for dinner.”
“My pleasure.”
Her pleasure was one thing he did not want to think about at the moment. He backed up. “Until morning, then.”
“Until morning,” she replied, watching as he turned to go.
He walked away, fast, and didn’t look back.
§
There was only one explanation for his hurry to rid himself of her and rush off to his own quarters, Graciella thought.
Her name was Kitran.
Graciella paced in front of her fireplace a moment, trying to decide what to do. Surely Kitran was meeting him in his bedroom this very moment, and before long, she’d be on top of him, rubbing herself on him as Jiandra had described.
No, no, no! Graciella had been certain the meal she’d served him was winning him over to her side. He hadn’t even looked up when Kitran was bringing out the food, was more absorbed in his wine. By the end of dinner, his body was relaxed, he was making a lot of eye contact with Graciella, and she’d seen his gaze linger on her mouth more than once. When they’d stood up from the table, she’d been so sure he was going to invite her to sit by the fire in his study and chat, as had been their habit over the past week.
It had to be Kitran. With Yajna and Jiandra gone, no doubt Yavi had seized the opportunity to arrange a tryst with the beautiful washing girl. What, hadn’t he as much as admitted he had absolutely no plans to marry any time soon? Spoken like a true rakehell. Oath of celibacy, my arse. The reason Jiandra doesn’t know he’s knobbing Kitran is because he waits until she and Yajna are off the premises!
She had to move fast to find out the truth. She hopped on one foot, tugging off her boots, and put on her soft slippers. She opened her bedroom door just a crack, then poked her head out to see if any guards were lurking about.
It was all clear, so she slipped out and closed the door, then hurried down the hallway out of Yajna’s wing, heading toward Yavi’s side of the palace. Before entering the passageway that led to his study and his bedroom, she flattened herself against the wall and peeked around the corner. There was no one in sight, so she tiptoed past Yavi’s study to his bedroom.
When she reached the door, she pressed her ear against it to check for the sounds of moaning Jiandra had described. It was quiet for the moment, but she kept listening for any sounds of a woman’s voice, movement on a bed—
Back down the hallway, the door to Yavi’s study opened. Graciella panicked and opened his bedroom door to slip inside. The orange glow of firelight revealed the bed to be undisturbed and free of washing girls, but footsteps were rapidly approaching the door. She glanced around for someplace to hide, hurrying to the far corner of the room to crouch behind a trunk just before the door opened.
Graciella shut her eyes tight, mortified. Now you’ve done it, Graciella. What will he think when he finds you snooping in his room? She sent a desperate mental prayer to Zehu as she heard the door close.
The room fell quiet, but she didn’t dare look or even breathe. Yavi could be standing right on the other side of the trunk for all she knew—he moved like a panther when he wanted to. However, there was a slight possibility the person who entered was a servant, and if so, she could invent a lame excuse and hopefully escape before Yavi returned. She would wait until she heard a sound somewhere else in the room, and then look over the top of the trunk to see who was there.
Finally she heard movement across the room, on the other side of the bed. Water pouring into the washstand. Carefully, oh-so-slowly, she inched up just enough to see over the lid of the trunk. Yavi set the large pitcher down and tugged his white lawn shirt over his head, tossing it to a chair, and Graciella’s mouth went dry. Layers of thick, well-defined muscle flexed over his arms, shoulders, and chest. Apparently training every day in the courtyard pays dividends. Gorgeous ones.