When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(34)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Wh-why?” Her body shivered, eyes large with innocence.

“Because…” Ash reached for her shoulders, pulling her closer as he started picking the pins from her hair. “…you’re too pure. I’m afraid I may tarnish you in the most intimate way possible. How would that be fair to your future husband?”

Her head hung.

“Even more so…” He tilted her chin back up. “…how would that be fair to you?”

“Perhaps I should be the judge of what’s fair and what isn’t.” Her arms dropped to her sides as she leveled him with a haughty gaze.

“Play with fire, Princess, and it may blaze out of control. Tell me, are you ready for the burn?”

“Yes.”

Good God, had she answered any other way, he would have walked in the other direction and slammed the door. Had she merely hesitated or taken a breath before speaking, he would have found the strength to stop. Instead, her eyes never left his. For one so innocent to have the amount of confidence that she had? Hell, the woman could rule the world with one of those looks.

Ash nodded and placed the pins on the nearest table then approached the bed again. “Then lie down.”

Her brow furrowed.

“Trouble with instructions, Princess?”

“But I thought we weren’t—”

“Lie down.”

She scurried to the bed and lay down, her smooth body creating a gorgeous lithe painting against the satin sheets.

Ash suppressed a groan and removed his jacket, which complicated things, considering its snug fit. Next came his shirtsleeves, followed by his shoes and then his trousers, leaving him in nothing but his small clothes.

“Ash?”

“I’m going to blow out the candles.”

She said nothing while Ash blew out both candles and blanketed the room in moonlight.

“Ash, perhaps I was a bit forward in asking you to—”

“Shh…” He pressed his fingers against her mouth and then bestowed a gentle kiss on her cherry red lips. “Sleep.”

“Oh, but… oh.”

“Your first lesson in passion…” Ash pulled her into his arms and whispered against her rose-scented hair. “Anticipation is everything. Now sleep.”

She relaxed in his embrace. Within minutes, she was breathing deep, clearly exhausted.

Which left Ash damned uncomfortable.

Holding a woman he could not have.

Ten years he’d gone without holding a woman.

Eleven years ago he’d wanted a woman, but she hadn’t been his to want.

It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that history was repeating itself. Only this time he’d have a taste, but never his fill.

Life was punishing him all over again for his bad choices, punishing him in the form of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Keeping her a virgin wasn’t just a necessity for her own honor and purity.

But for his own sanity, because he knew that once he shared such intimacy with her — and was forced to give that up? He would be in the same position he’d been in ten years earlier.

Sitting in the cemetery with a pistol pointed beneath his chin.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Some women spend their lives trying to look as beautiful as she did… while she slept. —The Grimm Reaper

SUNLIGHT STREAKED THROUGH THE room. Sleepily, Sofia sat up, stretching her arms around her head. When she glanced at the spot next to her in the bed, she panicked. Where was Ash?

And then she realized.

She was no longer in his room, but hers. Sometime during the night, he’d brought her back to her room. She hadn’t even thought of the ramifications of what would take place if she’d been found in his. The servants knew to knock before entering, but yet, all it would take would be one glimpse, and she would be stuck with him forever.

Though stuck seemed like such a horrible word.

The man may have a temper, and at times disagreeable; the swearing was also a little much — but he was so beautiful to look at. On top of that? She felt safe with him… as if the world could spiral into chaos, and all she’d need to do was focus on his eyes and she’d be all right.

With another yawn, she looked down at the pillow.

A note rested against it.

“Remember… anticipation is everything.”

The handwriting was too pretty to be that of a man’s, but the only person who would know of that conversation was Ash. She clenched the note to her chest and let out a sigh.

Three weeks, and she’d no longer be the recipient of notes and passion, but duty.

Straightening her shoulders, Sofia decided to focus on the positive, and the positive was most likely waiting for her downstairs, breaking his fast.

A knock sounded at the door. Ana entered with a cup of warm chocolate. “Your Highness, how did you sleep?”

“Beautifully.” And she meant it. She’d slept peacefully last night — in the arms of a killer. Ironic that she’d feel at her safest with a man who strangled men with his bare hands.

“Wonderful.” Ana curtsied. “Shall we ready you for the morning?”

“Yes.” Sofia climbed out of bed and began her morning rituals, all the while remembering what it had felt like to have Ash’s hands on her body.

A half hour later, Sofia was rushing down stairs and nearly collided with the object of her thoughts.

Ash gripped her arms, steadying her on her feet. “Hungry, Princess?”

“That depends.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Are you offering, soldier?”

His eyes darkened, and, for a brief moment, she thought he’d kiss her; instead, he gently released his hold and offered his arm. “It seems Her Highness decided she wanted to play with the flames, hmm?”

“I find the heat entices me.”

“The most dangerous things in this life — are often the most lovely.”

Sofia glanced up at him. “Yes, yes they are.”

Ash stopped walking; he leaned in again.

“Ah, there you are!” Dominique said from the bottom of the stairs. “How was your rest, Sofia?”

“Hot.” She smirked.

Dominique’s brow furrowed. “I’ll let the maid know to open the window this evening.”

“Please do.” She fanned herself and fought a chuckle at Ash’s amused expression; it seemed with each moment they spent, a part of him cracked, leaving more and more of his true self in place. She liked it — who he was, not who he pretended to be, heartless, crude, indifferent.