Broken Dove Page 11

  It was worse than he thought but not worse than he could imagine. Not after spending time with her, in the beginning and at the inn.

  Still, he whispered an irritated, “Bloody hell.”

  “The good news is, they’ll be an excellent guard. They’d lay down their lives for her,” Achilles offered.

  “They lust after my wife,” Apollo bit out and watched Achilles tilt his head to the side.

  “Is she?” he asked quietly.

  And the second time that day, Apollo found his mouth speaking for him before his mind engaged.

  “She will be.”

  Achilles blinked and asked, “What?”

  Warming to this thought, he explained, “The story being shared as people will see Ilsa and wonder is that she is a distant cousin of my Ilsa’s, widowed, and her parents have recently been lost. She’s come to Lunwyn for my protection. And it’s custom, is it not, for a widowed man to take to wife a widowed woman who is in the family, however removed, in order to provide her succor and protection?”

  “By the gods, cousin,” Achilles whispered. “It is, but it will be lost on no soul for miles around and throughout the Houses that Maddie is the image of your departed wife.”

  “A happenstance that will likely not be questioned considering I did not hide my feelings for my wife or the ones I held after she was lost. Therefore, it would not be a leap that I would be drawn to one who looks just like her.”

  “Too true, but this is mad, Lo.” Achilles was still whispering. “Once the troubles are over and Maddie takes her place at your side, everyone will know she’s a replacement of the one you cared so deeply for and lost.”

  Having just made this decision, he’d obviously not thought of that and it caused not a small amount of unease.

  But he had made this decision. And Apollo Ulfr was many things, one of them decisive.

  Therefore, he asked his cousin, “Have I ever cared what people thought?”

  “No, but has it occurred to you that Maddie might?’ his cousin asked him.

  It, of course, hadn’t, and this idea, too, troubled him.

  But time never stopped and people accustomed themselves to a variety of things, given enough of it. They would accustom themselves to the new Ilsa. And if she was discomfited by it in the meantime, he’d just keep her close and not take her out in society.

  He explained his decision by saying, “She’s been in the company of her guard for four months, Lees, and five have fallen. Derrik so deeply, he confronted me and asked to take her away.”

  “Gods,” Achilles muttered, shock on his face, but not surprise.

  The shock was that Derrik would confront him. The lack of surprise was that Achilles knew it might happen.

  “Precisely,” Apollo said tersely. “She’s extremely spirited. She’s also exquisitely beautiful. And I know you have not missed there are other things about her which would pull at any man.”

  “Have they pulled at you?” Achilles asked quietly.

  Apollo didn’t answer.

  Instead, he stated, “For her protection, I must take her as wife.”

  Achilles remained silent.

  Apollo did not.

  “Therefore, if she chooses to stay here, I bid you to keep her protected from the attentions that might come at her, as well as see to my affairs and keep an eye on Christophe and Élan. Élan will have no issue with her. Christophe may have difficulties coping.”

  Achilles nodded.

  Apollo continued. “If she is to stay here, when I deliver her in the morning, I will collect Derrik and take him with me.”

  Achilles nodded again.

  Apollo went on. “Upon my return, we’ll see to a quiet wedding.”

  Achilles didn’t nod at that. He held Apollo’s gaze and said nothing.

  Apollo ignored the reservations in his cousin’s eyes and kept speaking.

  “If she comes with me, dispatch the guard as I instructed, however not the men I chose. You choose who to send but send four of them. I’ll wed her along the way.”

  Again, Apollo didn’t nod.

  Instead, he advised, “I urge you to take some time to consider this, cousin.”

  “I have no choice but to sleep on it,” Apollo replied.

  He watched his cousin take in a breath and let it out.

  Then he again watched his cousin nod. This did not surprise Apollo. They’d grown up together, alongside Laures, Draven and Derrik. Achilles knew when Apollo’s mind was made up, there was no changing it.

  And Achilles would champion it, if not in word at that moment, when the time came, he’d do it in word and deed. For Apollo and, he was in no doubt, also for Ilsa.

  Therefore, Apollo nodded back and ended the conversation by leading Torment into the stables.

  * * * * *

  His fist on his cock pumping, his eyes closed, the vision of her running her tongue up the underside was in his brain.

  Her face, he knew.

  But he’d never had that tongue.

  Or those eyes.

  Eyes that were burning on him now, burning on him and through him even if only in his imagination.

  Fathomless.

  A mystery.

  His mystery.

  On this thought and the small enigmatic smile she gave him before she rolled her tongue around the tip, his head pressed back into the pillows and Apollo stifled his own groan as he spent himself on his stomach.

  Slowly opening his eyes to the dark of his room, he milked the last beads from his shaft as she continued to steal his thoughts.

  Then he reached to his nightstand, opened the drawer and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped up his seed and tossed the cloth aside. He then yanked the covers over him and turned to his side, stretching out his arm to curl around the pillow and pull it to him.

  Tonight, a pillow.

  Tomorrow, something else entirely.

  He’d lied to his cousin.

  He didn’t intend to sleep on anything.

  He intended to sleep with something.

  Yes, he’d made a colossal mistake.

  One he just no longer had any intention to rectify by sending her away.

  On that thought, Apollo closed his eyes and faded to sleep.

  * * * * *

  At sunrise the next day, with his gloved hand on a lead to a horse that was hitched to the sleigh prepared to take Ilsa forward or back, Apollo saw her standing on the steps of the inn.

  She was wearing a fur cape, holding a fur cap in her hand, her auburn hair shining in the sun and her eyes were aimed at him.

  He pulled back on Torment, halting close and looking down at her.

  She looked up, and before he could speak, she snapped, “Bellebryn.”

  Then, without delay, she stomped through the snow to the sleigh.

  Knowing he was cursed and not caring in the slightest, when she did, Apollo smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  Away to Bed

  I was learning something new.

  That was, you could not stomp out your anger when a man had your hand tucked in the crook of his arm and was leading you up some stairs behind an innkeeper.

  You also couldn’t do it when you were in the presence of an aristocrat, even if you weren’t one yourself (officially), because that wasn’t the done thing.

  But I already knew you couldn’t throw a hissy fit in public, it was rude—in this world, my world or any world, no matter how much reason you had to do it.

  That said, I was going to do it when we reached our room.

  Yes, our room.

  The first day gliding over the frosty tundra with Apollo had gone relatively well. This mostly had to do with Apollo riding beside me through the snow and not attempting conversation.

  On my way through Lunwyn the first time, as the men rode close to my sleigh and we chatted, for the most part, my attention had been taken from the landscape.

  Without that diversion, I was able to more fully take in the beauty of what was arou
nd me. The rolling plains covered in soft snow twinkling in the sun. The vistas dotted with green pines tufted with white. The small villages we passed, sleepy and closed away from the cold, smoke drifting lazily from chimneys coming out of roofs covered in marshmallow blankets.

  As the glorious white horse with its smoky gray mane (the contrast to Apollo’s fantastic beast, which was smoky gray with an unusual white mane) pulled my dark green lacquered sleigh, I could give it my full attention. And I saw it was far more beautiful than I’d noted on the way in.

  This annoyed me. It was silly and even childish, but I didn’t want to like anything that came with Apollo. And considering the latest turn of events, after a wonderful four months that had been the happiest maybe in my life, I was feeling okay with being silly and childish.

  One of the worst parts of this turn of events was that it included being in the presence of Apollo.

  He was worse than I imagined and he was pretty bad before.

  Sure, there were reasons I couldn’t go forth and start my new life, free to be whatever I felt like being. I mean, malevolent magic was imminent and I didn’t want to seem like a wuss, but I didn’t think it was the smartest decision to go it alone in a whole new world when bad witches and vengeful deposed rulers were plotting to unleash misfortune on the land.

  And he’d been cool (okay, I had to admit, he’d been relatively kind) when I explained about Christophe and Élan.

  But mostly he was dictatorial, haughty and arrogant and it really annoyed me when he interrupted me like what I had to say wasn’t as important as what he had to say.

  I’d slept on it and come to the decision that being with him would be easier to deal with than being around his children. And I decided this because I decided at the same time to ignore him as much as I could when I was with him.

  I could ignore a dictatorial, haughty, arrogant grown man (maybe). I couldn’t ignore kids (definitely).

  Decision made, I put it into practice when we stopped briefly for lunch and he tried to engage me in conversation. Without a peep, I turned my eyes away, chomped into the roasted pork sandwich one of his servants (no doubt, I didn’t see Apollo in a kitchen slapping together sandwiches) had provided (which was delicious, by the way) and ignored him.

  The good part about this was it worked. He quit trying to talk to me from the moment I looked away from him.

  The bad part about this was that when my eyes slid through him moments later, he was leaning against the side of the sleigh, his gaze to the ground, his mouth curved up and I knew it was me he found amusing.

  That annoyed me also so I decided to ignore that too.

  Off we went maybe ten minutes later and he kept apace with my sleigh but he said nothing further.

  He also said nothing when he guided us into a larger village, this one beside a lovely streaming creek that had glistening black rocks at its banks. He took us straight to a building that had a shingle hanging from it that said “Rock Creek Inn” (not original, but apt), where we stopped.

  He also said nothing when he wrapped his reins around a post in front of the inn and came back to me, offering his arm as I dismounted from the sleigh. I was, of course, a now-consummate sleigh-driver seeing as Gaston gave me a lesson when we got to Lunwyn and I’d been in charge of my sleigh ever since. Though, truthfully, it wasn’t much to brag about since it wasn’t all that hard.

  I took his arm but did it with my face turned away and I didn’t even glance at him because I didn’t want to see if this amused him due to the fact that I knew that would annoy me.

  He did curve his fingers around my hand in the crook of his elbow but I ignored that too. Since my hand had rabbit fur-lined gloves on it, I could even pretend his hand wasn’t there.

  This was what I did.

  He then took us into the inn, right to the desk and instantly asked the innkeeper for his best room.

  That would be one room, singular.

  It was not your standard Holiday Inn but it had more than one room, I was sure. And I seriously doubted Apollo intended to sleep in my sleigh. Further, the only other time we’d stayed under the same roof overnight, for some insane reason, he’d slept in bed with me.

  So he either intended to share a room with me or find somewhere else warm to lie his head (or not lie his head, considering who had shared his bed in Fleuridia before me—it was doubtful he got much rest when he was paying for the time of the person he was with).

  Therefore, I was seething but controlling it.

  We’d have words in our room.

  Which was right where the innkeeper took us, opening the door for us to the room at the very end of the hall on the second floor.

  He turned to Apollo, handed him the iron key with a big cross at the top and said, “I’ll have a boy up to start a fire soon’s I can, yer lordship. Would you be requiring any wine, ale or tea to warm you after yer ride?”

  I felt Apollo’s eyes on me and I didn’t look at him but I did take this as a sign he was asking me if I wanted any of these things.

  “Wine, please,” I requested, forcing my tone to sound calm and wishing I could order tequila. Alas, I’d asked the guys and also copiously tasted the various spirits available in this world and tequila wasn’t among them.

  “Of course, milady,” he muttered.

  He glanced at Apollo and when Apollo grunted, “Wine will be fine,” the man nodded, skirted us with difficulty (due to the fact that Apollo hadn’t let me go so we were taking up the hallway; nor, might I add, did he move us out of the poor man’s way when he was obviously sucking in his gut to slide by us) and scurried away.

  Apollo led me into the room.

  The minute he closed the door, I pulled my hand from his elbow and took three paces into the room, sucking in a deep breath.

  Then I turned to him but made a show of glancing around the room, taking it all in before I lifted my gaze to his.

  When my eyes hit him, I noticed he was in the process of rearranging his face. And what he was arranging it from was amusement. What he changed it to when my eyes caught his was fake courteous inquiry.

  I ignored that and remarked, “This is a lovely room.”

  Apollo looked around and I knew what he saw since I’d just looked at it.

  A bed, double at most, with a quilted bedspread and two fluffy pillows, the pillows being the only good things in room.

  The rest included a thick braided rug on the floor that looked like it needed to be taken out and beaten and this needed to be done about twelve months ago. There was not a thing on the walls, not even a chipped mirror. There was a table and two chairs by the window. The table was nicked and scratched. The chairs looked like their comfort level was set at “torture chamber.” And over the windows, heavy drab curtains of a nondescript color because whatever color they were originally faded to nothing two decades ago.

  His eyes came to mine and his face was studiously blank when he replied, “Indeed.”

  “I’ll enjoy my brief sojourn here,” I shared, ignored the blank look slipping as his eyes flashed with humor and inquired, “Would you care to share where you’ll be sleeping?”

  He held my eyes and answered, “In here.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “So I’m to sleep in the sleigh?”

  “Not unless you fancy your digits being amputated tomorrow due to frost bite,” he replied.

  “No, I don’t fancy that,” I informed him, taking great pains to keep my tone neutral. “So, will it be you or me sleeping on the floor?”

  “Neither.”

  I took in another deep breath, found calm on the exhale, and asked, “Would you care to explain?”

  He did care to explain because he immediately did that.

  “I need to get to Bellebryn without delay. You need a constantly vigilant guard. As you’re coming with me, I’m your guard. Therefore, I’m keeping you safe.”

  “By sleeping with me?” I snapped, at his answer completely failing to keep my tone neutral.
<
br />   “I can hardly keep you safe if I can’t keep my eye on you.”

  “The guys managed to keep me safe on the journey here without any of them sleeping with me,” I pointed out and his eyes flashed in a different way at my remark.

  I’d seen that flash before. It was the way I’d seen them flash the day before when we were talking about Derrik.

  “There were eight of them,” he stated, cutting into my thoughts. “With eight of them, they could keep watch inside and out. There’s only one of me and I’ll be unable to keep an eye on you if you’re in a different room and I can’t actually see you.”

  That was logical and totally irrational at the same time.

  “Am I in imminent danger of being kidnapped?” I queried.

  “I’ve no idea what the imminent danger is. I just know it’s imminent so I’m not taking any chances.”

  Unfortunately, that was just logical which I found annoying. I wouldn’t know, of course, but I would guess malevolent witches with the power of gods were more than a vague threat to pretty much everybody so it was probably good to be prepared.

  “Perhaps,” I began to suggest, “we can request a room with two beds.”

  His head cocked slightly to the side and he asked, “Is this something available in your world?”

  “Yes,” I replied with the sinking feeling that it wasn’t available in this one.

  He confirmed that sinking feeling.

  “Well, it isn’t available here.”

  Fabulous.

  “Apollo—”

  He cut me off. “We sleep together Ilsa.”

  I clenched my teeth.

  Forcing myself to release them, I drew in another deep breath and tried again.

  “Okay, maybe we can request a room with a bigger bed.”

  “You’ve stayed in inns on your journey, no?”

  I had. Many of them. And all of them (albeit, most of them cleaner and nicer) had beds like this. We’d happened onto bigger hotels and lodges along our journey that had way nicer rooms and much bigger beds but not in a village of this size.

  Drat.

  He assumed my answer was what it was even not verbalized and continued.

  “It will also be warmer.”