“So do I get to ask the damn question in the middle of the hallway?” He glared at her.
For she was making everything more difficult on purpose.
“Or can you at least grant me the privacy of your room?” But if she wanted to see him squirm, she still had a long way to go.
Ylianor stepped aside, then closed the door behind him.
“So everyone’s talking about us?” The room did not offer much in terms of accommodations besides the bed and a solitary chair placed on a side.
“Yes, also your mother—”
“You met my mother?” So he chose the bed, Duncan’s advice echoing in his ears.
“She wanted to meet me.” Ylianor sat next to him. “She’s a nice lady. Too bad she doesn’t know how to use her healing gift, not even on herself.”
“I know. My birth almost killed her—”
“You really hated women from the start, didn’t you?” If the tone was teasing, the words seemed dead serious.
“And haven’t stopped since.” Chris kept his voice deliberately light, but he was too painfully aware of her body near him, more aroused now than with the prince just minutes ago. “Which is why I try to get rid of them.” And at the moment she was so damn inviting he wanted to take her right there and then. So by the gods, he did!
Rising, he pulled Ylianor up on her feet, so close his lips almost brushed hers. “Of course, it’s easier when it’s the worthless life of a miserable slave.” Knife already in hand, he trailed it on her throat before slipping down her back to rip off her robe. “Particularly if that slave happens to be you.”
“If you think you still scare me, you’re dumber than I thought.” Stiffening, she straightened her shoulders and dared him to go further. “Especially now that you need me for your family’s sake.”
Damn! She was right. “Don’t flatter yourself.”