The King's Obsession

by Tanya Bird

  Something caught Leksi’s eye in the trees, about ten yards away. He stopped his horse and squinted into the rain, all the tension leaving his body in one relieved breath. He could not see her face, but the sight of a woman wrestling with a large canvas was all the confirmation he needed.

  Dismounting, he led his horse through the trees towards her. She had her back to him, but he could hear her cursing as she tried to keep hold of the cover in the wind. To her credit, she had managed to attach the rope to all four corners of the canvas. He watched as one of them flew up, whipping her face. She swatted at it, an angry noise escaping her. He really should have stepped up to help; instead, he leaned against the tree and continued watching. When she finally got hold of the rogue rope, she looked around, searching for somewhere to attach it. She gasped and jumped a full foot in the air when she noticed him standing there.

  ‘What are you—’ She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘You scared me!’

  He had his arms crossed in front of him, an amused expression on his face. ‘What are you doing over there?’

  She straightened and licked water off her lips while the rain continued to soak her. ‘What does it look like? I am making a shelter.’

  His gaze fell to the canvas in her hands. ‘That’s not what it looks like.’ He watched her lips press together, holding in her anger before returning to the task at hand. She even went as far as turning away from him. He would let her go for as long she needed to prove her point. He had no intention of helping her until she asked for it—and she would eventually.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her face determined. His own expression gave nothing away. It seemed she was not ready to ask for help yet, and he was prepared to wait her out. She wound one of the ropes around a tree and tied it in a feeble knot that had him shaking his head. She noticed.

  ‘What?’ she snapped.

  ‘That knot won’t hold.’

  She ignored him, her hands travelling down to the opposite corner of the canvas until she had the second rope in hand. She stepped up to another tree and tried to reach around the trunk. It was too wide for her arms to pass the rope between hands, so she walked around it—more of a stumble, really—then pulled it tight. Leksi watched as the rope at the other end shook, loosening with every passing second. Any moment, it would go flying at her.

  He really should have stepped forwards at that point, but she chose that moment to cast him a filthy look, so he stayed where he was in order to enjoy the show. She tested her latest knot before turning to him with a cocky expression.

  Then the other rope gave out. The canvas swirled through the air, wrapping her like a second skin. She took a few unsteady steps, trying to free herself, then lost her balance, landing on her side with the canvas still wrapped around her.

  Confident his point had been made, Leksi wiped rain from his face and stepped forwards to stand over her. ‘Let me know if you need help. I don’t want to make assumptions.’

  She tore wildly at the canvas until her head was finally free, then stared up at him. He expected to see blind rage on her face by that point, but she just lay there, panting.

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘If the other Companions could see you now.’

  Her breathing slowed, and for a moment, he thought she might cry. But then something spectacular happened. She began to laugh. At first her hand went over her mouth to cover it, but then it fell away and laughter tore from her throat in uncontrollable bursts. Her eyes closed and she lifted her face to the rain, completely surrendering to it.

  Leksi stared down at her, completely thrown by her reaction. Her hands went to her stomach, clutching it the way a child did when they had passed the point of being able to stop and everything hurt. He had seen her smile, a few times now. He had even seen her laugh a total sum of once—but nothing like this. She was completely lost to the emotion, and dear God, she was beautiful in that moment: wet hair clinging to her face, leaves and mud stuck to her hands and clothes. She turned onto her side, gasping for air, mud covering one cheek. It was like witnessing her rebirth, and he was at a complete loss for words.

  It took a long time for the laughter to die down, but the smile remained as she lay in the mud, eventually rolling onto her back to look up at him. She took a few calming breaths, laughed once more, and then let out an enormous sigh.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, barely recognising his own voice. He cleared his throat.

  Her smile softened. ‘Better.’

  His eyes moved over her. ‘Look at you. You’re a disgrace—an embarrassment to your own kind.’ He stepped forwards and held out his hand.

  ‘What kind is that?’

  He pulled her to her feet, keeping hold of her. ‘The kind that demands cleanliness and order. The prudish kind.’

  She studied his face. ‘That would be highly offensive coming from any other man.’

  It was by no means logical, but he desperately wanted to kiss her in that moment. The dirtier she was, the better. His gaze fell to her lips, but he stopped himself. ‘Would you like me to build you a shelter? Then build you a fire so you can dry your clothes?’

  She looked down at herself, then at the muddy canvas. ‘I believe your assistance is required, Sir Leksi.’

  He pulled a pine needle from her hair. ‘You’re lucky I found you.’

  She shook her head and stepped out of his way. ‘I was expecting you to throw me over your horse and carry me off.’

  ‘Let’s get you dry first,’ he said, bending to pick up the canvas. ‘All right, watch closely. You might learn something.’

  She went and waited by his horse, arms crossed against the rain. Within minutes he had all four corners of the canvas secured to the trees.

  ‘It is on a lean,’ she pointed out, sounding rather pleased with herself.

  ‘That’s so the water doesn’t pool on top,’ he replied without looking at her.

  ‘Oh.’

  He smiled to himself before walking over to his horse to fetch some things. In under ten minutes, he created a cosy nest with enough room for them and their supplies, adding an additional canvas on one side to protect them from the wind.

  ‘In you go,’ he said. ‘Take off your cloak and boots first though.’

  She glanced at the shelter, then back at him. ‘Are you coming in?’

  He really should have wrestled her onto his horse the moment he spotted her and taken her straight to Archdale, but the temptation to huddle beneath a canvas with her for an hour or two, under the pretence of bad weather, was too great.

  ‘In a minute,’ he said.

  He watched as she peeled off her wet cloak before sitting down to remove her muddy boots. Once she was settled, he went to lay their cloaks over their bags, under no illusion that they would dry without heat. He removed his sword but left his boots on before dropping down next to her. She was shivering beside him. As soon as the rain stopped, he would build her a fire.

  He reached for her bag and pulled out the blanket he knew she had. ‘It’s a bit damp,’ he said, wrapping it around her shoulders.

  She pulled it tightly and looked him up and down. ‘How is it you never feel the cold?’ she asked. ‘You always emerge from the freezing ocean as though you have just taken a warm bath. And now you sit here in wet clothes, hands warm.’

  He eyed her. ‘How do you know my hands are warm?’

  ‘They are always warm.’

  He sat with arms resting on his knees. ‘Years of practice. This is nothing after sleeping in the snow.’

  She watched the rain. ‘You really should not have come after me.’

  ‘You’re lucky I did.’

  She shook her head. ‘I am not going to Archdale with you. I am going to Paton.’

  He regarded her for a moment. ‘If I decide you’re coming with me, then you are coming with me.’ She did not reply, her silence feeling a lot like defiance. He noticed her lips had a blue tinge to them. She really was freezing. ‘Want me to warm you up?’

  She nar
rowed her eyes. ‘Is this one of your tricks you use on women?’

  ‘I don’t need tricks.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Another shiver. ‘Let me guess, I take my clothes off, you take your clothes off, and we implement the skin-to-skin warming technique.’

  He suppressed a smile. ‘I had planned to leave my clothes on, but if you feel the need to get naked, I won’t stop you.’ Her cheeks flooded with colour, and he frowned. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you blush before.’

  Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her to him. She was rigid at first, then eventually relaxed against him, her head on his shoulder. There was enough familiarity between them, enough time spent in close proximity, whether it be in the saddle or standing on the shore with his hands tangled in her hair. They were both looking out, watching the rain as it finally slowed.

  ‘Even the elements are against me,’ she said, all laughter gone from her voice now.

  ‘No one is against you. Well, maybe King Nilos.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I met him once. A few years back. He was probably less crazy then.’

  She was quiet for a moment. ‘I remember that visit. Peace negotiations. But I do not remember you.’

  ‘I was just the muscle. The princes took the meetings.’ He pulled her closer, covering her icy hands with his warm ones. ‘I would’ve remembered you. I never forget a pretty face.’ Not entirely true. He usually forgot them the very next day.

  ‘It was probably around the time Xander was born. I was no good to anyone then. The king kept me hidden away for months.’

  The rain had stopped falling, but water still ran from the trees. The thought of her locked up, grieving and isolated made him shift. ‘Even if you make it to Paton, you’ll struggle to get close to him. They’ll be on high alert with you still missing.’

  She sniffed. ‘Perhaps you do not realise what it would mean to me to see him at all. My memories of him are five years old, and they are fading.’ She paused. ‘I remember his dark eyes though.’

  His arm tightened around her, then relaxed again. He was no good at comfort. He usually distracted people from their pain with crude jokes, but he knew any humour at that moment would fall flat.

  ‘I’m going to make you a fire,’ he said, pulling away.

  She straightened, watching him. ‘Everything is wet.’

  ‘Have a little faith, mentor.’

  She hugged her knees, and he was aware of her gaze on him as he wandered around collecting sticks and pine cones from secret nooks. The wind had eased to a light breeze, ideal for fanning a flame. Taking out his knife, he stripped the wet bark from the sticks before shredding the dry parts. He stacked his collection of tinder in a precise order, then went to his bag to retrieve flint and a fire steel. A few minutes of coaxing, blowing and failed attempts finally resulted in a small flame. When he was certain it would not go out, he went in search of more tinder, conscious of not wandering too far from Petra.

  ‘Just the sight of the flames is enough to warm you,’ she said when he returned. She was holding her hands out to the heat.

  He added to the fire, giving it his full attention until he was satisfied. Next, he went to tend to his horse and returned with another rope, which he tied between two trees close to the fire. After he had hung their cloaks over it, he walked over to Petra and said, ‘Take off your dress and hose. We need to get you dry.’

  She hesitated before undressing beneath the blanket, keeping her undergarments on, and handing everything else to him. He hung it, along with his tunic and shirt, leaving his trousers on.

  When he was done, he looked back at the shelter and saw Petra’s eyes on him, unreadable as always. She looked away as he walked over and collapsed beside her, watching the flames.

  ‘I’m guessing you didn’t sleep last night,’ he said.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Get some sleep now. I’ll wake you when your clothes are dry.’

  She turned to look at him, her cheek pressed against her knees. ‘I am guessing you did not get any sleep either.’

  He shrugged. ‘I can survive without it.’

  She placed a hand on his arm, and he looked down at it. ‘When I wake, I am going east to my son.’

  ‘You really think I’m going to let you walk all the way to Paton, alone?’

  They stared at one another for a moment. ‘I am not asking permission.’

  He turned back to the fire. ‘Get some sleep.’

  Her hand fell away and she lay down beside him, curling herself into a ball beneath the blanket. His eyes went to the wet clothes, viewing them like an hourglass. When they were dry, his time was up. He was going to have to decide if he was travelling south to Archdale or east to Corneo. The only thing he knew for certain was that, whichever direction he chose, they were going together.

  South to his king, his friends, his home? Or east into enemy territory, to the son stolen from her arms while she slept?

  He dropped his head between his knees, inhaling the smoke. Follow orders or follow his heart? He had to decide—and soon.

  Chapter 20

  When Petra woke, it was dark. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She turned her head, looking for him. He was in the same spot next to her, his face illuminated by the flames as he stared thoughtfully at the fire. So serious. She had done that to him, stripped him of his laughter by running. What had she expected him to do as she fled towards danger?

  As though sensing she was awake, Leksi suddenly turned and looked at her.

  She gave him a weak, sleepy smile. ‘Sorry. You should have woken me.’ She pushed herself up into a seated position, warm from the fire.

  ‘I didn’t have the heart to wake you.’

  When he said things like that, it triggered her guilt. ‘Did you sleep?’ He shook his head, and she continued to study his face. ‘I am sorry to put you in this position, but I hope you understand why I cannot return to Archdale with you.’

  He did not reply for the longest time, then he exhaled and looked heavenward. ‘I understand. That’s why I’m going to take you to Paton.’

  She stared at him, hoping she had heard correctly. ‘What about your orders?’

  Leksi turned to her. ‘Tyron told me to keep you safe. So I’ll keep you safe.’

  Thinking her heart might explode with gratitude in that moment, she hugged his bare arm and pressed her lips to his skin. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. She did not let go, feeling such pure affection for him that she was afraid to move in case he changed his mind and left her. She kissed his arm again, his skin so warm beneath her lips as she breathed in his familiar scent. A hand came to rest on the back of her head, fingers kneading her hair. She leaned into it, her eyes closing, though she was not shutting him out—she was savouring him.

  Her mouth moved up his arm until she reached the top of his shoulder. Only then did she raise her eyes to him.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, looking a bit unsure.

  She ran one hand over his hard chest, pausing at a long silver scar. ‘I am showing my appreciation,’ she finally answered.

  ‘A simple thank you will suffice.’

  Her eyes went to his, and she saw her own lust mirrored back at her. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, then slid her hand up his neck, pulling herself up to meet his lips.

  Her need was so primal in that moment, she feared she would scare him away. It was as though every wall she had spent the last nine years constructing just crumbled to dust. Every thought was muted, replaced by the sensation of him. She gripped his face and kissed him deeper.

  His hands were on her then, as though they had been waiting for confirmation. He pulled her onto his lap and her chest brushed his, her knees landing either side of him. It was the strangest feeling to have him so close and yet need him closer still. His fingers pressed into her back, his thumbs rubbing her sides as his mouth travelled along her jaw and down her neck. She leaned into the sensation, exhaling as her head tipped back.

  ‘If you want m
e to stop,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘Or slow down.’ His mouth moved lower. ‘Just say the word.’

  Her hands went into his hair, pulling him closer. ‘Don’t stop.’

  His hand slid up her leg. ‘Would you like me to show you how it can be with a real man?’

  She opened her eyes and looked down, assessing his half-smirk. Her entire body pulsed with her need for him. ‘You want to teach the mentor?’

  He brought his lips to her collarbone, kissing softly. ‘Do you trust me?’

  She nodded. ‘I trust you.’ To prove the point, she began removing her undergarments. He leaned back on his hands to watch, his gaze moving over her body. The raw flames of the fire warmed her back.

  ‘You are possibly the most beautiful creature God ever made,’ he said, his smirk gone.

  She studied his face for a moment. ‘You can drop the charming act, Sir Leksi. You already have me naked.’

  His expression softened and he reached up, running his thumb over her lips. ‘I wish it were an act. It would all be so much easier if it were.’

  She swallowed and placed a hand on his chest. ‘I know.’

  He lifted her then and laid her down on the blanket, one hand cradling her head while the other wandered where it pleased.

  Oh God.

  Her mouth found his, and the lesson began.

  He should never have fallen asleep, but Petra’s incessant mouth and body had finally rendered him completely useless. He had been with a lot of women, but with her, it had been something else entirely.

  As she lay nestled in the crook of his arm, her sleepy breaths on his skin, he listened for whatever had woken him. Nothing but the crackle and hiss of the fire sounded, but he did not trust it. Gently, he pulled his arm free and dragged the blanket up to cover her. His eyes went to his sword as he tugged on his trousers, and then he heard the snap of something underfoot on the other side of the canvas wall.