A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)(58)

“I can do that—” I begin in protest.

He silences me with a look. When he pulls the boot free, it’s both agonizing and a miracle. I can see the swelling even through my stockings. Rhen frowns up at me. “I should call for a physician.”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just a sprain. It’s okay if I don’t stand on it.” I make a face. “It’s not like I don’t already have a limp.”

He pulls the laces on the other boot, then drags that one free, too. He’s hardly touched me, but I shiver anyway, goose bumps springing up all along my arms.

That gets his attention, but not for the right reason. “You are cold,” he says, straightening. “I should fetch a blanket.”

“You should remove your armor,” I say, and his eyes flash to mine. “I mean.” I clear my throat and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My eyes skip away from his and land on his sword belt, which is not better. I look at the wall instead. My face is on fire. “I’m fine. The armor—it’s uncomfortable.”

He studies me. I can’t look at him now. He saved my life like a fairy-tale prince, and now I’m a blushing puddle in a chair.

A knock at the door saves me.

“My lord,” calls a voice.

“Dustan,” says Rhen. He touches a gentle finger to my chin. “I will return in a moment.”

There is something wrong with me. I press my hands to my cheeks as if that will cool them. I need to think. I need to hear what he’s saying, what orders he’s giving. I need to know what he’s planning, so I can act accordingly—

And then Rhen is back and I have no time for any of that. I can taste my heart in my throat.

He’s unbuckling the sword belt, slipping the leather across the buckle. I’ve seen him do it a million times, and it shouldn’t make my heart flutter, but it does, and I have to look away again.

“I have asked Dustan to send for dinner,” he says quietly. He rests the sword in one of my armchairs, and then his nimble fingers turn to the buckles on his bracers. “Zo said you did not have a chance to dine in Silvermoon.”

“No,” I say, but it’s a miracle my brain can focus on what he’s saying, because my eyes are transfixed by the movement of his hands. The bracers land on the armchair next. He only unbuckles one half of the breastplate before jerking it over his head and tossing it with the rest of his armor. Somehow that’s more alluring than the slow, agonizing removal of everything else.

He’s always so buttoned up, so perfect, that it feels like a privilege to see him in trousers and shirtsleeves, just that lone dagger left at his waist. His blond hair is in a bit of disarray, and the first shadow of beard growth has appeared on his jaw.

But then he’s done, and standing there, studying me so intently that I have to hold my breath.

“I should call for Freya,” he says, and his voice is a touch lower. “You will want to dress.”

I don’t want to call for Freya.

I swallow, then nod at where my lady-in-waiting has hung a sleeping shift and a dressing gown beside the wardrobe. “She already laid out my clothes.” I hesitate. “If you could handle the lacing up the back.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but his gaze burns into mine. “As you say.”

He fetches the clothes, then helps me stand, and I brace a hand against the arm of the sofa when he moves behind me. He’s so close that I can feel his warmth and hear his breathing. When his hand brushes my shoulder, moving my hair to the side, I nearly jump.

But then his fingertips slow against my skin, tracing a line lightly. “You’re bruised here.”

I crane my neck around to see him, and there’s a thunderstorm in his eyes. “Am I?”

“Lilith?” His voice has taken on a new weight. “Or the crowd at Silvermoon?”

“Either? Both. I don’t know.” I pause. “Does it matter?” I say humorlessly.

“It does to me.” His breath eases against my skin, and I go still. “You did not need to keep her a secret, Harper.”

Harrrrperrr. I close my eyes and inhale. He shouldn’t be allowed to say my name like that when I’m … I don’t know what I am. Like this.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then the laces of my corset tug and loosen as his fingers work the ties. “I did not intend to be cruel on the ride to Silvermoon. Forgive me.” His hands slow. “It was a blow to my pride. To think that you believed a visit from Lilith would undo me.”

“What? No.” I whirl to face him, jerking the ribbons free of his hands. It’s too much movement on my ankle, and my leg begins to give way.

Rhen catches my waist, holding me upright. There’s hardly an inch of space between our bodies.

“No more lies between us,” he says, and his voice is gentle but firm.

“I wanted to protect you,” I whisper.

“As I want the same for you.” He lifts a hand to trace the line of my face. “Perhaps we are both determined to go about that in the wrong way.”

I stare up at him until I realize what he’s saying. Have we spent so long seeing each other’s vulnerabilities that we forgot each other’s strengths? Is that why it was such a shock to see him stride through the crowd at Silvermoon?

“Shall I finish?” he says, his voice a gentle rasp.