Fardohnya and Hythria, the Kariens would own the entire continent on his death.”
“A death that would be sooner, rather than later, knowing the Kariens.” Damin shook his head at the vast scope of the Karien plans for world dominance. Or perhaps they were Xaphista’s plans.
And the demon child, the only one who could stop him, was probably dead.
“An heir and a spare – and I too become surplus to requirements,” she reminded him grimly.
He studied her for a moment, wondering if he was seeing the real Adrina for the first time. The woman whose life depended on staying one step ahead of the men who controlled her. Her father. Her husband. Even him. Every one of them was trying to use her to further their own ambitions.
“Is there anything else you haven’t told me, Adrina?”
She sipped her wine, looking at him over the rim of her cup. “Haven’t I told you enough?”
“That depends on what critical piece of information you’re holding back.”
She lowered the cup and smiled. “You’re the most suspicious man I’ve ever met.”
“With just cause, around you.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, Damin, but you know just about everything I do.”
“It’s the ‘just about’ that concerns me.”
“I’ve nothing to gain by lying to you. If Medalon surrenders, I will be returned to Karien. I would rather die.”
Oddly, he believed her. If what she had told him was true, the Kariens would allow her to live long enough to produce the requisite heir – and not a moment longer. She had already betrayed them once. They wouldn’t be so lax in their vigilance a second time.
Then something else occurred to him, which changed his opinion of her rather radically.
“Cratyn’s impotence was all your fault, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to give him an heir to your father’s throne.”
The question startled her at first, then she smiled smugly. “As you pointed out the first time we spoke, my Lord, an inexperienced Karien princeling is no match for a
“It seems I’ve misjudged you, your Highness.”
“Something else I warned you about.”
He refused to acknowledge her reprimand. “More wine?”
“Thank you, no. I’ve learnt the folly of consuming too much Medalonian wine on an empty stomach.” She held out her empty cup. “I should be going. Was there anything else you wanted?”
He took the cup from her outstretched hand. “Untie your shirt.”
“
Damin smiled. “Untie your shirt.”
“You have
“I’ve never been more serious. Untie your shirt, or I’ll do it for you.”
She glared at him, but to her credit, she didn’t back away. “You lay one finger on me and I’ll —”
“What? Scream?” he finished with a laugh. “You’re in the middle of my camp, Adrina. Who’s going to come to your rescue?”
“I’ll gouge your eyes out if you touch me.”
He shrugged and turned his back on her, replacing the empty cups on the desk. “As you wish. I was under the impression you wanted that slave collar off. I must have been mistaken.”
He waited with his back to her. She was silent for a very long time.
“You could have said that’s what you were planning.”
“And miss seeing you squirm like that?” he asked with a grin as he turned back to her. “I don’t think so. So, shall we start again? Untie your shirt. I can’t get to the thing with you bundled up like that.”
“Just give me the keys and I’ll do it myself.”
“No. And for being so uncooperative now you’re going to have to say please.”
“You are the most unbelievable bastard.”
“I know.”
She stepped around the brazier and the cushions, unlacing the shirt as she went. By the time she reached him the shirt was open far enough to expose the collar and a tantalising glimpse of pale throat – and not a thing more.
“There! Just take the damned thing off!”
“Say please.”
“Please!” Her eyes burned with fury.
Getting that much out of her was something of an achievement, so Damin decided not to push his luck. She might still try to gouge his eyes out, just on principal.
He took her hand and pulled her closer, then slid his fingers under the collar. Lernen had only shown him once how the catch worked, and he wasn’t at all certain he could find it. The jeweller who had designed the collars was a craftsman and they were manufactured to prevent a clever slave finding the means for their emancipation. Adrina closed her eyes rather than meet his. It was very distracting, holding her so close. He could feel her hot breath on his face, smell the faint perfume of the soap she used to wash her hair.
He found the catch and heard it open with a faint snick. Adrina heard it too. She opened her eyes, a little surprised to find herself so close to him. She looked up, met his eyes.
Later, Damin couldn’t say who moved first. One moment she was staring at him with those impressive green eyes. The next he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. The collar tumbled forgotten to the floor. It was almost as if she wanted to devour him. He cursed the layers of winter clothing they both wore as she tore at the lacing on his shirt. There was no logic to this, no rational thought.
“This is insane,” Adrina gasped between kisses, as she fumbled with the buckle on his sword belt. “I hate you.”
The sword belt dropped to the floor with a clatter. “I hate you too.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she added as she pulled the shirt over his head.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he promised as her shirt fell away, exposing her glorious pale breasts. They fell onto the scattered cushions beside the brazier. Adrina landed astride him. Her hair had come loose and it fell about them in an ebony wave that cut off the rest of the tent so that it was only Adrina that he could see. It was only Adrina that he wanted to see, in any case.
“Damin?”
He pulled her down and kissed her, but she pulled back impatiently.
“Damin!”
“You’re not going to ask me to be gentle, are you?”
She smiled wickedly. “No. I only want one thing from you, my Lord.”
“Name it, your Highness.”
Her smile faded, replaced with a look of unexpected savagery. “Make me forget Cratyn.”
The request did not surprise him nearly as much as her vehemence. But he understood it. “Say please.”
“Go to hell.”
He laughed softly and drew her down again. Before long it was doubtful if either of them could recall their own names, let alone the name of Adrina’s husband.
Chapter 49
“You did
Tarja wondered if he’d mis-heard the warlord. He glanced across at Damin and feared he hadn’t.
They were supposed to be riding out to inspect the border troops, but Tarja realised now that Damin’s suggestion had merely been a ruse. He wanted to break the news to Tarja out of the hearing of the rest of the
