“No, just very certain about her territorial boundaries.”
“And I’m crossing them?”
“You’re getting close.”
Adrina stepped back a little, her ego somewhat appeased. She had been beginning to wonder if she was losing her touch. The dance ended with a round of applause and Tarja led her back to the stairs. The Lord Defender had moved on and was talking to the officer who had charge of the horses. The musicians struck up another tune and the hall echoed to the stamping feet of the dancers. Damin was sitting on the stairs sipping his wine. He did not bother to rise as she approached. His manners were appalling.
“I see her Highness dances with the same flair she spins fanciful stories,” Damin remarked. “You survived, Tarja. I’m proud of you.”
“Only just,” Tarja admitted with a smile. “Your Highness, it’s been a pleasure, but I have duties to attend to. I’m sure Lord Wolfblade would be delighted to keep you entertained.” He bowed and walked away, leaving her standing there. His abrupt departure left her speechless.
“Don’t worry Adrina, you didn’t drive him off. He’s waiting for a bird from the Citadel. Tonight is more important to the Medalonians than you know.”
She turned to Damin curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Tonight is their annual Gathering at the Citadel. R’shiel is planning to make some changes in the Sisterhood and Tarja’s very nervous about it. Here, have a seat and drink up. I’m sure you’ll find me much more agreeable company if you’re drunk.”
Adrina accepted the cup and sat beside him on the stairs, drinking her wine thoughtfully. It was a surprisingly strong blend. “He told me about R’shiel.”
“I’m not surprised. You weren’t being very subtle, you know. I was half expecting you to start tearing his jacket off, right there on the dance floor.”
“Do you always have to be so crude?”
“I’m being suitable to the occasion, your Highness. If you act like a whore, you shouldn’t be surprised when you get treated like one.”
Adrina had taken just about all she intended to from this barbarian. He had done nothing but taunt her and torment her. It was time to put him in his place. Time to wipe that superior smirk off his face.
“You’re jealous.”
“Of you? Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Of course, you are,” she laughed. “I’ve misjudged you badly, my Lord. All this time I thought you were a degenerate pervert like your uncle, when in fact, you fancy yourself Kalianah’s gift to women. You don’t even like me, yet you can’t bear the thought that I might find Tarja attractive. How pathetic!”
“Your attempts to sleep your way to freedom are far more pathetic than anything I can come up with, Adrina.”
“If I’d been trying to ‘sleep my way to freedom’, as you so crudely put it, I would have been out of here weeks ago,” she assured him confidently.
“You’re that good, are you?”
She finished the wine in a swallow, surprised at how potent it was. She had heard that the drier the climate the stronger the wine, but she hadn’t realised until now the difference between the sweet blends of Fardohnya and the hardy Medalonian vintages.
“Well, that’s something you’re never likely to find out, is it?”
Damin refilled her cup from a jug he had on the step by his feet. “Ah, now that would imply that I would want to find out, Adrina. Thank you, but I prefer to sleep with women who aren’t likely to try slipping a knife between my ribs.”
“I imagine that’s all you can do, Damin. Sleep with women.” She downed the wine recklessly. She was enjoying this. To the Seven Hells with being nice.
“This from the woman who couldn’t even coax a virgin boy into her bed,” he said. “I wonder what Cratyn’s doing at the moment? Praying to the Overlord for the return of his beloved wife, or thanking him for getting rid of her?”
“You’re a pig, Damin Wolfblade!” She stood up – far too quickly, she discovered with alarm – and gripped the rough stone wall. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to your drunken insults any longer.”
“Giving in so easily, your Highness? You disappoint me. I thought you’d be good for another hour at least.”
“You’re drunk!” she accused, turning to climb the stairs to her room. She misjudged them and stumbled, but Damin caught her before she fell.
“Actually, I’m disappointingly sober,” he corrected. “You, on the other hand, are well and truly under the weather. How much did you have?”
“Let me go!” she demanded, shaking free of him. “I am not drunk. I had two cups, that’s all.”
“They weren’t cups, they were tankards, and the wine you’re used to is like mother’s milk compared to this Medalonian stuff. Come on, let’s get you upstairs before you really do something to embarrass yourself.”
“Take your hands off me!” she hissed. Gripping the wall, Adrina took the steps carefully, grateful, but not willing to admit it, that Damin was behind her. Her head was starting to spin alarmingly.
By the time they reached the door to her room, Adrina felt a little better. She took a deep breath and turned to Damin, feeling almost gracious enough to thank him for his assistance. Until she saw the smirk on his face.
“You’re insufferable! How dare you laugh at me!”
“You really should learn not to take yourself so seriously. You’d be much more bearable, if you did.”
“I’ve no interest in making myself bearable to suit you.”
“I doubt you could even if you tried, Adrina.”
A small part of Adrina – that part that was still reasonably sober – warned her to let the comment go. But for some reason, she felt compelled to rise to the challenge. She was sick to death of this man.
“I’ve told you before. In the unlikely event I ever decide to entertain myself with you, Damin Wolfblade, you won’t know what’s hit you.”
“So you keep telling me. You’re not quite game to put it to the test, though, are you?”
“You think I couldn’t?”
“I think you’re afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of anyone, least of all you!”
“Brave words from a cheap drunk. Go to bed, Adrina.”
She laughed softly. “You’re afraid of me, that’s the truth of it. You even warned Tarja that I’m dangerous.”
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“He really does have a bad habit of repeating the most inconvenient things, doesn’t he?” He reached across and opened the door to her chamber. “Goodnight, Adrina.”
“I’m right, aren’t I? You’re afraid of me.” Adrina wasn’t sure why she was being so insistent. It just seemed that the world would be a much better place if Damin Wolfblade admitted that he feared her. Even a little bit.
“Terrified,” he agreed, as if he were speaking to a small child. “Now go to bed.”
“You’re just saying that to get rid of me.”
“You noticed? Maybe you’re not as drunk as I thought.”
“I know why you’re afraid.”
“Why?”
“Because of this,” she said, and then she kissed him.
Adrina had intended to bestow one blazing, breathtaking kiss on him and leave him gasping for more. He would never get any more, of course, but that was the whole point. Let him have a taste of the forbidden fruit and then deny him the sweetness forever more.
But she didn’t count on Damin’s reaction. She didn’t count on him kissing her back. Didn’t count on finding herself pushed against the wall with strong arms holding hers pinned against her body while her pulse pounded in her ears, blocking out all other sensations. Adrina had kissed plenty of men before, but no court’esa in her service would have dared such unbridled lust. Her grand plan evaporated in a heartbeat. For a fleeting, dangerous moment, she gave herself up to the sheer, unexpected pleasure of it.