Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark #7)(55)
Author: Kresley Cole

Damn it, is he embarrassed of me?

She’d noticed two things when she’d slept with him during the last couple of nights. When he wrapped his arms around her, he clasped her as tightly as he would

his most treasured prize. And whenever he did that, she fell into a deep numb sleep.

Sabine welcomed it now. The heat from his body was so palpable, it seemed to stroke her in the dark. The world soon fell away.. . .

She woke in the night, blinking her eyes to find him watching her, his face so weary.

"No more bad dreams, love."

Had he seen her dream? She didn’t remember it-

He pressed his lips to her hair. "You’re safe, now." He eased his hand to her face so slowly, touching her cheek with the softest caress she’d ever received. It was almost as if he’d practiced how not to startle her.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her once more: If I’m not careful, I could get used to having a demon hus­band. . . .

31

"Retro-Amish. How . . . charming," she said when Rydstrom brought her changes of clothing the next morning. He was relieved to see that her face and body had healed overnight.

Though she’d just awakened, he’d already bathed in nearby hot springs, dressed in new clothes, and met with the head noblemen, who were all too eager to turn over the governing-and the problems-of the camp to him.

They’d been rife with curiosity about Sabine. Was she the king’s concubine or prisoner or both! Rydstrom wouldn’t volunteer anything, just commanded that while she was not to be freed, she was to be shown the utmost respect- and that everyone here be apprised of that order.

Sabine gave a nod at the clothes. "Let me guess- from Durinda?"

"Yes, they’re courtesy of her." After Rydstrom’s meet’ ing, the demoness had guided him around camp, with the boy Puck following. He was an orphan that Durinda

hoped to foster in the future. Though the demoness clearly knew Rydstrom, he couldn’t seem to place her. But she was friendly enough, and the boy reminded him of Cadeon at that age. The exact age my brother was when I sent him away.

"Durinda-and many others-noted your lack of clothing last night. They favor more conservative gar­ments."

Since last night, word of Sabine and Rydstrom’s iden­tity had spread to the entire populace. The people were uneasy about the sorceress within their midst, even as they gazed at him with . . . hope. They thought he was going to make their lives better.

The responsibility weighed on him. Everywhere he looked he saw work that needed to be done. And food was growing scarce here. All the game in the area was depleted, and hunters were having to go farther afield, which put them at risk for other dangers.

He wished he had someone to speak with about this. He wished he had Sabine to speak with. But they’d had only had one real conversation.

"Conservative garments, Rydstrom? Don’t you mean stodgy?"

"Call it what you will."

"You don’t seem as angry as you’d been last night," she observed. "Not still bristling about the baby-or lack thereof?"

Rydstrom had repeatedly mulled over the night before. At the time, he’d thought she was worried about him, Now he suspected he’d heard and seen things that weren’t there, wanting her to be anxious for him, to

give a damn about him. "I wasn’t angry about that, but about the deception. And I’ve since become glad that you aren’t."

"Is that so?" she asked, her tone disbelieving.

"I know little of children or of the starting of fami­lies, but I figure there should be no hatred between the parents."

"Rydstrom, I don’t hate you."

"You did last night."

"Last night I was furious. Look, whether I deserved the last two days or not, they’ve still been very difficult for me. And your female is not mild-tempered in the best of circumstances."

Rydstrom frowned, absently saying, "Maybe a hot bath would be welcome." She’d just sounded so reason­able.

And he hated that his first thought was, What’s her

game now?

"Ruffles? Your revenge is devilish and hateful, Ryd­strom." Once she’d bathed, he’d dressed her in an ankle-length flowing skirt and a long-sleeved blouse with-she shuddered-fhuncy things.

A plain corset and pantalettes served as underwear. Soft slippers covered her feet. She frowned down at them. "How am I supposed to kick with these?"

"You’re not."

"Have you ever seen pictures of cats dressed up by humans? That’s how ridiculous I feel right now."

"Good. Maybe this will curb your ego," he said as he led her back to the tent.

"Doubtful. It burns too bright, demon. So do you agree that women should dress like this? Are you old and stodgy?"

"I think women should dress as they please. Within reason."

She was about to grill him on that last bit, but she noticed that people were stopping what they were doing to spit on the ground after she passed. "My popularity here, well, it’s just embarrassing how they fawn."

"I can’t blame them for how they feel."

"What?"

"They’re among the hardest hit by Omort’s regime- hence their determination to risk Grave Realm to escape his rule."

"And I’m to be hated for what Omort has done? Have you heard of any specific account where I’ve gone out of my way to hurt any of the people here?"

"No, just as I’ve never heard any where you’ve gone out of your way to help them."

"Of course not. I will never aid someone, not unless there’s something in it for me. Because I have a brain in my head. Demon, you want things from me that I sim­ply can’t give. And you hope to see things in me that just aren’t there. I will always lie, cheat, and steal-"

"And duly kill anyone who defends their gold."

"You saw my dreams."

"I did. I saw your mother. And I saw when you were buried."

She swallowed. Don’t you pity me. Don’t you dare.

"You’re strong, Sabine. If you could temper that strength with-"

"Compassion? Kindness? Mercy?"

"Why not?"

"Rydstrom, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. . . ." She trailed off as they passed Durinda. The pretty demoness smiled winningly at Rydstrom. He gave *

her a wave.

Sabine didn’t like this little exchange at all. She rec­ognized that she was feeling jealousy. She’d experienced it before Rydstrom, but for things-objects others pos­sessed that she didn’t.

Now she felt as if Durinda had just taken a grab at her gold. Wondering how her gold would feel about that, Sabine gazed up at Rydstrom. "Do you think it’s possible to desire another after you’ve found your female?"