Soul in Darkness (Page 27)

I stopped at the range as I did every day, honing my archery skills. I wondered what bow my husband used since only my own was present. When I’d hit the target three times from three different positions, I left the range to find the animals.

Both were thoroughly exhausted, so I brought them to my room and went to see the trees, as promised. I was nervous, fearing they might still be upset, but they welcomed me with open branches and were happy to swing me and let me climb, even brushing their leaves over my hair, lifting the strands, which I had left down. It was the touch of a friend, and I adored every moment.

The last thing I did before retiring back to the palace was to dip my feet in the moving stream. I found that if my intentions were not to try and cross it, the water did not rise. It seemed to know. Sentient waters. Sentient trees. Such a wondrous place. If only I had someone to share it with.

I took my time walking back to the grand palace, finding hot food awaiting my return. Mino was doing his best to climb a chair to get to it. I was ravenous this afternoon and immediately sat down to eat, taking bites and sharing with both animals until it was all gone.

We were about to retire to the inviting bed for a nap when the window opened, and I felt my husband’s larger-than-life presence. A bubble of giddiness rose up and I smacked it down. Yes, I had agreed to work with him as a team, but it was nothing to get excited over. For all I knew, I was being fooled, but I was choosing not to bother with those thoughts as well.

“You look spent,” he said. “Perhaps a bath?”

That did sound nice. I probably should not climb under the covers with dried sweat covering me. I gave a nod, and soon the sound of running water filled the room. Like every time he had run a bath for me, he left me alone and closed the door, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow spying. He had seen me nude the day of the ant bites, but it hadn’t been a moment of sensuality in the least. Never before had I been bashful of my nakedness; the people of my culture were not modest, but the thought of him seeing me without clothing made my skin prickle with nervous awareness.

I became mindful of the heaviness of my breasts and the way my waist swooped in, then flared out over my hips. The way my thighs lightly brushed, and how my hair fell with a delicious tickle across my back and arms. What would he think of the way my nipples pebbled into tight pinkish-brown buds?

I blinked the thoughts away and slid into the water, holding back a groan of pleasure. Nothing mattered less than what he thought of my body. I was being ridiculous. Perhaps I should ask him not to touch me while we shared the bed. The affections were going to my head, a dagger to my logic.

But if I were honest, it was more than the physical affections. On its own, his touch was not enough to affect my mind. It was his attention that was wearing at my wall of resolve—attentions that reminded me, against my better judgment, of Leodes. Either my husband was a better actor than any in Greece, or his concern for me was genuine. His questions, his conversations, his complete focus on my interests and well-being…it was flattering in a way I wished it wasn’t. It felt as if he cared about me as a person, not a princess. Of course, it could all be a part of my husband’s dark, ulterior motive—a thought that sent a sour stitch of disappointment through me.

I sighed and sank deeper into the warmth of the bath, pushing those thoughts away.

The water soothed away my anxieties as I lathered my skin with lavender and vanilla. When it began to cool, I climbed out and patted myself dry with a thick, warm cloth, squeezing my hair. I stepped from the steaming bathing room, wrapped in the fabric, and immediately felt my husband’s eyes on me. He was hard to ignore as I made my way toward the closet.

One heartbeat later, I had a moment that can only be described as spontaneous madness. Without thinking on it, I dropped my towel, not looking his way, heading nonchalantly into the closet with my naked body fully on display for him. An unmistakable intake of air came from my husband where he stood at the windows before I disappeared from his sight. My heart was like a gong in my chest over and over as I fumbled to dress, suddenly terrified that my small show would bring him over here in expectation of something more.

Stupid, Psyche, why must you be so impulsive?

I felt like an idiot as I forced myself to walk back into the room, my cheeks hot, pretending it had been nothing at all. A small gasp parted my lips when the room went dark like a starless, moonless night. When the candles did not light as they usually did, I knew I had made a horrible mistake. Should I apologize? No, I had to feign innocence.

I forced out a whisper. “I cannot see.”

“Pity.” His voice was directly in front of me, startling my senses. My whole body went on high alert. “Because I have made myself visible.”

Visible, standing right in front of me, and I could not see him. My lips pursed in annoyance.

Something soft pressed against my hand, and he said, “Put these on.”

The gloves. My hands trembled as I slipped them on. At no point did my heart settle its steady pounding. I was torn between acknowledging the mistake I’d made and being too prideful to bring it up.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You must be tired.” He was being so matter-of-fact.

“Are you…angry?” I asked, trying to prepare myself for what was to come.

His chuckle was deep, reverberating through me. “Anger is far from what I feel.”

Oh, deep Hades. I had aroused him. Why did that come as such a surprise? Clearly there was some dark part of me that had wondered what he thought of me, physically. Unlike other men, he never harped on about my appearance. Funny how those other men used to irk me so.

“What do you want?” I asked defensively.

Again, with that damned chuckle. “What do you want, Wife?”

My heart danced on its toes and spun, but I said, “Nothing.”

His humor was not deterred by my attitude. “Nothing? Well, if you insist. Let us get you into bed for a bit of nothingness.”

Sarcasm. He placed a hot hand at the small of my back, forcing me to suck in a breath as he led me through the room to the bed. I heard him lift Mino and set him on the bedding. I grabbed the blanket, throwing it back and getting myself quickly under it. His footsteps around the bed were even, and then the weight of the soft padding shifted when he climbed in. Mino settled at our feet. I had no idea where Sphinx was.

For the love of Olympus, heart of mine, be still and relax!

I lay clutching the blankets at my shoulders, staring up into the darkness, unable to see a thing.

“I could have sworn you were exhausted.” He was facing me, and his voice still held humor. I should have closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

“It is not fair that you can see me,” I said grumpily.

“Of course, it is not fair. Did you believe this arrangement would be fair?”

I crossed my arms like a petulant child and he laughed as if it were adorable. I uncrossed them.

“Come now, Psyche,” he soothed. “There must be something you want. Something that will help you relax.”

My thoughts immediately went to his lips, and I flushed, shaking my head.

“Have you not enjoyed any of our time together?” he asked. “Is there nothing you like about this place? Please. Tell me. I am truly curious.” There went his curiosity about me again. The level of interest and attention that other men never showed. Damn him.

My teeth clenched as I struggled to find the right words to explain the ambiguous feelings I had about him and my grand prison.

“I feel as if I cannot trust what I feel.” I shook my head. “I know that makes little sense. Nothing makes sense here! Sometimes I think Cupid has infected me with his bow, or I’ve been slipped drops of nectar in my tea. My thoughts do not feel like my own.”

He was quiet for so long, I almost reached out a foot to see if he was still there.

“I assure you,” he said softly. “Neither of those two things has happened. All of your thoughts, everything you have felt, are your own.”

My belly turned with nervousness and a tickle of unwanted pleasure. I believed him. I hated that my instincts so strongly believed him and that my heart was desperate for it all to be true and real. I wanted to be on a team with this infuriating creature. That, above all, made no sense.

“Do you have horns?” I asked in a rush.

He laughed, something he seemed to do a lot of at my expense.

“Sit up a moment, Psyche. Face me.” After a moment of hesitation, I did as he asked. “Keep your hands down.” I pressed my gloved palms into the bed at my sides, then held my breath.

The air escaped my lips in a shudder at the feel of his face pressed against mine, cheek to cheek. He was warm, so warm. His skin was smooth and supple. Gently, he rubbed downward, until his breath was against my neck, and then he angled his forehead against my throat. I lifted my chin to feel him against my neck. No horns. Just heavy, silken waves of hair caressing and tickling my skin. Gods…I wanted to bring my hands up to touch him and feel that hair between my fingers, but I dared not.

He had proved his point, but I didn’t tell him to stop, nor did he seem to want to. I felt him leaning closer, his hands pressing into the bedding on either side of me. And then his lips touched my throat. A tiny sound escaped me. I clenched the covers in my fists, feeling that delicious build-up in my core again.