The Nymph King

Ever.

'Emotional entanglements are messy,' she said. 'And if I don't get involved, I don't have to worry about getting hurt.'

'I will never hurt you, Shaye. I will never lie to you.' He'd meant to learn more about her, to let her learn more about him. But he found himself saying, 'I think, perhaps, the only way to convince you of this is to show you. So from this moment on, there will be no more talking. Only doing.'

CHAPTER 17

'I AM GLAD YOU RETURNED,' Joachim said.

Brenna inched toward his bed. Shivawn had escorted her here and now stood at the doorway behind her, watching and guarding her. She'd allowed it before, and she allowed it now. Usually, however, she could not stand having anyone behind her. That was how the attack had happened. Ethan had come at her from behind, surprising her, before flipping her around and—She cut off the thought.

They'd been together for a while, but his temper had grown blacker and blacker. When she'd tried to end things, he'd snapped. She should have died that day, so badly did he hurt her. So many times since then, she'd wished to die.

But today, having someone behind her—having Shivawn behind her—didn't scare her. She was coming to like Shivawn and his gentleness. Despite everything and even in such a short amount of time, she was beginning to feel safe with him and had even pictured herself doing... intimate things with him. Him, she assured herself. Not Joachim.

Earlier, when she'd been locked inside that room with the other women and they'd been retelling their sensual exploits, wanton images had bombarded her. She hadn't been able to picture the man's face as he pleasured her in her mind, but she'd known it was Shivawn because she'd felt protected. He made her feel that way. Joachim... didn't. He made her feel dizzy and achy and weak, completely out of control.

At one time, she might have welcomed those things. Yeah, she'd once loved sex. She'd once loved men. But that had changed. Or so she'd thought.

It's Shivawn who turns you on. Has to be. Except, she'd been waiting for this moment all day, wanting to see Joachim again, to hear his voice and trace her hands over his body. That, she couldn't deny and it scared her. He was nothing like Shivawn. He wasn't kind, and he wasn't gentle. He was a hard, volatile warlord who wasn't afraid to use his fists. Yet even now, thinking about him made her heart race, and not just with fear.

Stupid, she told herself for the thousandth time. If she ever allowed herself to be intimate with a man again, it would be with someone like Shivawn.

Stop thinking about sex, Johnston. Get to work. Silently she cleaned and rebandaged Joachim's wounds, glad to see he was healing nicely. No sign of infection. He was still too weak to rise, but his strength would return. He would even have full use of his arms and leg, once the tissue reconnected.

Just as she was finishing up, a new man stepped inside the room. He carried a long, menacing sword; she saw it from the corner of her eye and immediately tried to jump toward Shivawn, the only safe haven available, but Joachim latched on to her hand and held tight. The action terrified her—not only because it was abrupt, but also because it fired her blood in a way it shouldn't. She cried out and was instantly released. She stumbled to her feet, away from all of the men.

'You are needed in the dining hall,' the intruder said to Shivawn.

Shivawn looked at her, then Joachim, ignoring the stranger. He frowned fiercely. 'Did he hurt you?' he asked her.

She rubbed her wrist and shook her head no.

'Valerian has summoned you,' the stranger added impatiently.

Shivawn flicked the man an irritated glance, then stepped forward and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. 'I hate to leave you, but I must obey the king. Will you be all right without me?'

Panic sprouted wings inside her chest. She didn't want him to go. Truly, he'd become her safety net in this unknown and wild land. But she forced herself to nod. Depending so desperately on one person was foolish.

'Would you like to go with me?' he asked.

Again, she shook her head no. She would stay. She would be brave. And she wouldn't allow Joachim to affect or scare her. Easier said than done, Johnston.

Shivawn gave Joachim a brief but dark look, gently caressed Brenna's cheek, and then strode into the hallway, following the messenger. Brenna and Joachim were alone.

You can do this. You can do this. Joachim's too weak to do anything to you. Slowly she turned toward him and eased back onto the bed. She was careful not to look into his eyes, those blue, blue eyes that seemed to cut straight to her soul. Her fingers shook as she finished wrapping the last bandage.

'I am Joachim,' he said, breaking the silence.

'I know.' Her voice trembled as much as her hands. 'Should not have challenged king.'

She imagined his nostrils flaring in fury. Still, she forged ahead. 'Silly. Strength lies in compassion, not battles.'

For a moment the air was so charged she thought he meant to yell at her. But he didn't. He changed the subject, admitting grudgingly, 'I thought of you last night.' Half pain, half accusation. 'And today. I cannot seem to get you out of my mind.'

Before she could stop it, her gaze jumped to his. She gasped at what she saw. Desire. White-hot desire. Her hands stilled, poised over his thigh. She had a sheet draped over his middle—to protect her modesty rather than his. The sheet was higher than it had been a moment ago.

'I see fear in your eyes,' he said, still speaking low, voice heated. 'But I also see interest.'

She bit her lip and shook her head. She would not admit to any type of interest. That would only encourage him. But...

'Talk to me, Brenna,' he said. 'Tell me of yourself.'

His quiet beseeching surprised her. She never would have expected it from such a power-hungry warlord. 'Wh-what would. You. Like to. Know?' Her throat was constricted, making it harder for her to speak.

'Everything.' Joachim tilted his head and regarded Brenna more intently. 'I want to know everything about you.' Already he knew her smell—violets and the sunshine he'd encountered so briefly on the surface. He knew her voice—scratchy and harsh, eliciting visions of passion and naked bodies.

Now he wanted to know her past. Her likes. Her dislikes. All the things that made her Brenna, the woman who obsessed him more with every second that passed. Strength lies in compassion, she'd said. He wanted to snort at that, but couldn't. He didn't know why.

'We will begin with something easy,' he said. 'What is your favorite color?'

She glanced at the door, as if wondering what she should do. Stay and talk, or run. 'Blue,' she finally replied.

If she were his woman, he would give her all the sapphires he owned. 'Do you have family?' A family she missed? Wished to return to?

She shook her head. 'Dead.'

He should not have felt relieved, but he did. 'How did they die?'

'Car accident.'

Car? He was intrigued by a 'car' that could kill an entire family, but was more curious about Brenna herself. 'I am sorry for your loss, little one.'

Features shadowed, she waved a hand through the air. Her hand was shaking, he noticed. 'Long time ago,' she said in that broken voice.

He wanted to grab her up and kiss her, anything to wipe away those shadows, but he ended up fisting the