Cursed To Death

“That was given from the heart, no strings attached. Take it all or leave it all, I just wanted you to know you are cared for.”

She bit her bottom lip harder, but the tears flowed regardless. “My men… you took them in; all my people… Hunter, Shogun, are ready to go to war-shit.”

“I would lose an entire garrison for you, Sasha,” he said quietly.

“No! I don’t want you to do that-and stop being so damned wonderfully chivalrous.” She slipped around him, jamming her hands into her robe pockets to keep from hugging him. “That, I admit, is my weak spot-you found it, and you’re dancing a Fae jig on it-now cut it out.” She wiped her face with her robe sleeves and stared at him, glad to see a lopsided smile overtake his handsome face. That was easier to endure than that intense, sexy, Gaelic stare of his.

“I see we’re both smitten by the same set of principles, then.”

“I refuse to answer that charge,” she said with a half smile and a sniff.

“But I would go to war for you and empty out a fortress for you, and you know what I’m saying is the truth.”

Again they stared at each other for a moment. Her she-Shadow senses confirmed that this man, not unlike Hunter or Shogun, was also no liar.

“I want minimal casualties; in fact, none for your people, or mine.”

“Do you not think that is part of why I love you so?” He swallowed hard, clearly still aroused, but transfixed where he stood.

She would not look down at his silk robe so she kept her gaze fastened to his face. “I had a plan that jumped into my head that I think might work… after we lift the spell on your fortress in the morning.”

“So ye would ignore my statement, then, as a form of avoidance?” He smiled a sad smile. “And I thought the wolves had superior hearing.”

“I heard you,” she said quietly. “And it made my stomach do flip-flops.” She bit her lip again, frightened by her own honesty. It was as though everything she’d meant to keep inside her mind was leaping out of her mouth like frogs!

She looked at the door and then at Sir Rodney.

“The wolves are resting,” Sir Rodney murmured.

“There are two factions under your roof… and your guards; anything that were to happen that’s not on the up-and-up could break down alliances, trusts, friendships… and that is part of the dark magick plan.”

“Spoken like a true woman of diplomacy,” he said with a wistful sigh.

“And… and… the gown and jewelry are beautiful, Sir Rodney, but-”

“Now, that would offend me if you returned it,” he said with an easy smile. “And just Rodney… please… The sir title is much too formal between us, don’t you think?”

“But it’s-”

“A gift,” he said gently, his gaze matching his tone. “And where I come from, in Fae culture, a gift from our people to someone not of our kind is the height of respect.”

She more than respected this man, she liked him, and maybe a little more. Maybe something that she wasn’t ready to investigate. He gave her body a once-over with longing, and tightened the sash on his silk robe with a sigh. Her eyes betrayed her and looked where she knew she shouldn’t have… and the sight of his bouncing arousal only ignited hers, but she didn’t move or flinch. Soldier mode took over as she lifted her chin and watched him walk to the door. But, God… He had a fantastic ass.

“Good night,” she said, wishing it had come out curtly. But it didn’t. It came out as a gentle caress of words that made him turn and stop to linger by the door.

“Thank you for everything,” she said more quietly when he didn’t move.

“Thank you for leaving a man hope,” he said without a smile. “The one who finally wins your heart will indeed be a lucky man.” He hesitated again, his eyes filled with yearning but also with dignified acceptance. “Sweet dreams, love,” he murmured and then blew her a kiss that she felt on her cheek. “I will respect a lady’s wishes and will not attempt to start a war amongst suitors tonight. You may rest easy knowing I am a man of my word.” Then, just like that, acceptance seemed to win out, and he turned away, opened the door, and left her all alone.

He’d walked out with his head held high and with the carriage of a true king. The moment the door clicked shut behind him her shoulders dropped from relief.

Pacing across the room, she snatched off the bewitched robe, letting it fall wherever, threw back the duvet, and climbed into the bed in the buff. Just a few hours of shut-eye was all she asked for. But as her body sank into the softness and her head hit the pillows, Sasha let out a weary groan. Silk sheets slid against her as rose petals rained down on her from the sheers. The damned thing was no doubt bewitched for all-night lovemaking, and the longer her head rested on the pillows, the more erotic thoughts accosted her brain.

Sasha closed her eyes with a plea in her voice. “C’mon, Rodney, give me a break.”

CHAPTER 19

At dawn, Rupert knocked gently on her door and a

As promised, the hamper produced her clothes-and given the sexy leather outfits deemed casual clothes in the closet, she gladly chose the old standbys. But the second she reached for her cell phone and checked it, she groaned. Fae cleaning magick had wiped out the freaking memory-all her phone numbers, all her pics, everything!

She made quick work of washing up and going through a boot-camp-fast morning routine. Armed guards awaited her as she exited, providing a welcomed security escort to the round table hall.

Hunter was already seated with Shogun, one man slumped over a steaming cup of coffee, the other over hot green tea. They both looked up at the same time, eyes weary and five o’clock shadow covering their jawlines. It seemed as though nobody had gotten anything but fitful sleep, from where she was standing. Sir Rodney didn’t look much better as he slowly stood for her, his actions encouraging the others to get to their feet. But the rest of the men looked refreshed and well rested. Oh, yeah, this male-lust spell was definitely getting worse by the night.

“Good morning,” Sasha said, feeling surly.

Rupert lifted a glass pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. “For the lady?” he said, seeming so nervous that the pitcher shook in his grip.

“Please,” she said, taking a seat. She lifted the silver dome that was covering her plate, and steak and eggs and hash browns were on it. She lowered her nose and took in a deep inhale, closing her eyes. “Mmmmm… Thank you.”

Food. Good food; fantastic food. She was begi

“I have a theory,” she said quickly, slurping her juice. Her quick, jerky motions overlaid by nervous chatter seemed to temporarily snap the three male contenders out of their dazes.

“Coffee, milady?” Rupert said, rushing to her side, appearing to understand her strategy to keep distractions going.

“Yes, plenty, with-”

“Cream and sugar?” he sputtered, and then spun toward a far door. “Kitchen! Cream and sugar for the lady.” Rupert was so undone that he splashed coffee on the white linen cloth that covered his sleeve.