To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(63)
“Yes, much.”
He watched her face, but she didn’t close her eyes.
“Yavi, do you plan on keeping your oath forever?” she asked softly.
He swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“How long do you plan to keep it? Another year or two?”
He’d never really put a time limit on the oath of celibacy when he’d made it, and for some reason, saying he’d keep it for another year or two seemed a little arbitrary. Her question was a good one. Did he really intend to stay celibate, on purpose, forever? Or simply wait until he was too old to attract and keep a wife, and thereby remain celibate by default?
“I don’t know, Graciella. I suppose I intend to keep my oath until I know that Tejeshwar has released me from it.”
“I understand. I respect your decision.”
No, don’t respect it—ask me to crawl into that bed right now and make love to you until dawn, a voice inside him begged. He rubbed a hand over his face.
“You said you didn’t love Svana. Have you ever been in love with anyone?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I thought I was in love a few times, when I was younger.”
“How did you know you weren’t in love?”
“Because I cared more about my own needs and desires than about hers.”
Graciella nodded, then yawned.
“Speaking of which, you, my little Sheir-zin, should go to sleep now and stop asking me nosy questions.”
“Okay.” She yawned again. “Thank you for staying with me tonight.”
“My pleasure.”
“Nice try, but I know this isn’t pleasurable.”
“How do you know? Can you read minds?” he teased.
“Yes.”
“What am I thinking right now?”
“That you wish I’d be quiet and go to sleep.”
He laughed. “By the Gods, she does read minds.”
“Are you really just going to sit there and watch me sleep all night?”
“Isn’t that what I signed up for?”
“Does that mean yes?”
“Yes, it means yes.”
“I wish you were in this bed holding me instead.”
He swallowed, hard. He wished the same thing. “No touching, remember?”
“I remember. I’m just thinking out loud, and I know I should stop.”
He waited, but she continued to lie there staring at him, not closing her eyes or putting in any effort to sleep. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed a finger over his lower lip, studying her. “Have you ever been in love, Graciella?”
She hesitated. “Yes, maybe.”
“What do you mean, ‘maybe?’”
“I’m not—I mean—I wasn’t…sure I was really in love.”
“What made you unsure?”
“If a person who is truly in love cares more about their loved one’s needs than their own, as you say, then I might not have been in love, because I really wanted what I wanted, without much thought as to what he wanted.”
“What exactly was it that you wanted from this love of yours?”
“Him to love me back.”
He looked down at his hands. “Well, I think wanting the person you love to love you back is a reasonable desire.”
“Maybe. But I’m still not sure.” She yawned again, then closed her eyes.
He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or anguished, but he sat and watched her until her breathing evened out and her face relaxed completely. And then he just watched her sleep, listening to her clock ticking off the seconds on the wall.
§
When Graciella awoke sometime later, the fire had died out. In the darkness she could barely make out Yavi’s sleeping form, head slumped to one side, in the chair facing her bed. She needed to use the chamber pot, but couldn’t envision doing it with him in the room. On the other hand, making the poor guy wake up and go stand outside so she could have her privacy seemed cruel.
Maybe I can wait until dawn. She glanced up at the clock, trying to make out the time in the dim moonlight coming in the windows. It appeared to be three o’clock. That meant she’d have to wait another four-and-a-half hours. Her bladder cramped urgently at the thought. She glanced at Yavi’s silhouette. His arms were tightly folded across his chest, probably due to the chill in the room, body immobile in sleep.
Maybe she could sneak out with her chamber pot and use it in his room, then slip back in without him noticing. She sat up and pushed the covers back.
He raised his head. “What’s wrong?”
She lay back down and jerked the covers over her body. “Nothing.”
“Where were you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“Graciella,” he said tiredly, “you’re lying to me again.”
“Okay, fine. I needed to relieve myself.”
“Oh.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll step outside, then.”
When he was gone, she slipped out of bed to take care of her needs, closed the lid and pushed the pot under the bed, then went to the door to open it. He was yawning and stretching his back.
“Okay. Come in.”
He did, barring the door behind him.