Willing Sacrifice
Page 19
Right up to the point where he prodded a tender spot.
She sucked in a hissing breath. “There. I think it’s sprained.”
“Okay. Let’s just sit here for a minute and see if the pain eases.” He sat behind her, positioning himself so that his long legs spread out beside hers. He wrapped his arms around her, urging her to lean back against him and tuck her head under his chin.
Grace didn’t resist. She was still so shaken and terrified that the idea of wrapping herself in his strength seemed like the best idea in the world.
Every breath she took was filled with his scent. The solid bulk of his body behind her put off waves of heat that made coiled muscles unclench. As the seconds flowed by, she began to relax. With each shuddering series of tremors, he stroked her arms and helped ease her through it. Finally, after what was an embarrassingly long time, she got control of herself enough to stop shaking.
“Please tell me you knew this ledge was here when you jumped,” he said. His tone was gentle, but there was a tension in his body that told her to tread carefully with her answer.
“I didn’t jump. I just stepped down.” A long way down, but that wasn’t something she thought she needed to remind him of.
“And you knew the ledge was here?”
Her need for honesty and her desire not to upset him started a brief war in her gut. She settled for “I was pretty sure.”
He let out a short strangled sound, then cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was with exaggerated calmness. “How sure is pretty sure?”
“I’d been here several times. There’s a cave a little farther down the ledge where some mushrooms that Brenya likes grow.”
Some of his calmness faded. “That’s not an answer.”
“I knew the ledge was long. I thought I was in the right spot.”
“But you didn’t look first, did you?”
“And take my eyes off that thing?”
His arms tightened around her for a second before releasing the pressure. “Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”
Grace knew the power of a promise, the innate magic it held. That was one of the first things Brenya had taught her: never make a promise she wasn’t certain she could keep. Doing so was a form of slavery she would never escape.
“I don’t know you well enough to promise you anything,” she said. “But I have no intention of going cliff-diving again anytime soon. It scared me to death.”
“You shouldn’t risk your life like that. You have no idea how valuable you are, how much pain your absence would cause.”
“I’m no more valuable than anyone else, including you.”
“That’s why you jumped. To save me.”
“I wasn’t smart enough or fast enough to think of a better plan. I’m just glad it worked out.”
“You’re injured. That’s hardly what I would call working out.”
“My ankle is already feeling better.”
“It doesn’t look better. It looks broken.”
She glanced down and saw the obvious swelling. “It’s not broken. It looks worse than it is. Once I’m on my feet, I’ll just walk it off.”
His thighs tightened against her hips. “You can’t walk off a broken bone, no matter how advanced your skills at denial are.”
“I’m not an idiot. I know my own limits.”
“Apparently not, seeing as how you thought you might be able to fly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I knew I couldn’t fly.” As soon as she said the words and felt his body tense against hers, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.
She turned her torso enough that she could look up at him. “Can we please just let it go? I did what I thought was right.”
He looked down at her, which put his mouth only inches from hers. It was the perfect angle for a kiss—at least she thought so. She couldn’t remember ever having been kissed, but her lips still tingled in eagerness, as if they knew exactly what to do.
Torr cupped her cheek. His hand was so big it nearly covered the side of her face. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone, awakening some deep awareness she’d never felt before.
Once again, that odd sense of familiarity assaulted her, shoving out all other thought.
“You touch me like you’ve done so all your life,” she told him.
His eyes darkened. He licked his lips, and her gaze was drawn to the curved indentation above his top lip. The urge to dip the tip of her tongue in the groove was almost more than she could resist. She had the strangest sense that if she did so, he would taste sweet and forbidden, like hidden memories.
Beard stubble shadowed his jaw, lending him a harsher edge. Curiosity lifted her hand until she was touching the roughness riding his skin. A strange shock of excitement rocketed along her spine until her pain was a distant, meaningless thing.
His hand slid to encircle her throat in a touch so gentle she had to concentrate to feel more than a tingling heat. His forearm settled between her breasts, and she was sure her heart sped up to match his pulse.
“You would have looked so pretty wearing my luceria,” he said.
She didn’t know what that was, but the way he said it, it hardly mattered. “If you want me to, I will.”
A sad smile curved his mouth. “I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted, but it’s impossible. Like so many things.”
Before her head cleared enough for her to ask him what that meant, he helped her sit up and he stood, all in one fluid movement.
With his strength and heat out of reach, the horrible cold of her shock and fear began seeping back in. She suppressed a shiver until his back was turned before she gave in to it.
He surveyed the area. “When you’re ready, we’ll see if you can stand, or if you’re more damaged than you think. If you can walk, we’ll head back to the village.”
“If I can’t walk, you should go back for help.”
He turned toward her then, his gaze intense against the backdrop of the orange sky. “I know you hardly know me, but do you really think I’d leave you out here to fend for yourself, wounded and alone?”
“What other choice do you have? You have to be back before nightfall.”
“I can carry you.”
“It’s too far. I’ll be fine here. I’ll just hide in the cave over there until you can get back.”
She sucked in a hissing breath. “There. I think it’s sprained.”
“Okay. Let’s just sit here for a minute and see if the pain eases.” He sat behind her, positioning himself so that his long legs spread out beside hers. He wrapped his arms around her, urging her to lean back against him and tuck her head under his chin.
Grace didn’t resist. She was still so shaken and terrified that the idea of wrapping herself in his strength seemed like the best idea in the world.
Every breath she took was filled with his scent. The solid bulk of his body behind her put off waves of heat that made coiled muscles unclench. As the seconds flowed by, she began to relax. With each shuddering series of tremors, he stroked her arms and helped ease her through it. Finally, after what was an embarrassingly long time, she got control of herself enough to stop shaking.
“Please tell me you knew this ledge was here when you jumped,” he said. His tone was gentle, but there was a tension in his body that told her to tread carefully with her answer.
“I didn’t jump. I just stepped down.” A long way down, but that wasn’t something she thought she needed to remind him of.
“And you knew the ledge was here?”
Her need for honesty and her desire not to upset him started a brief war in her gut. She settled for “I was pretty sure.”
He let out a short strangled sound, then cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was with exaggerated calmness. “How sure is pretty sure?”
“I’d been here several times. There’s a cave a little farther down the ledge where some mushrooms that Brenya likes grow.”
Some of his calmness faded. “That’s not an answer.”
“I knew the ledge was long. I thought I was in the right spot.”
“But you didn’t look first, did you?”
“And take my eyes off that thing?”
His arms tightened around her for a second before releasing the pressure. “Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”
Grace knew the power of a promise, the innate magic it held. That was one of the first things Brenya had taught her: never make a promise she wasn’t certain she could keep. Doing so was a form of slavery she would never escape.
“I don’t know you well enough to promise you anything,” she said. “But I have no intention of going cliff-diving again anytime soon. It scared me to death.”
“You shouldn’t risk your life like that. You have no idea how valuable you are, how much pain your absence would cause.”
“I’m no more valuable than anyone else, including you.”
“That’s why you jumped. To save me.”
“I wasn’t smart enough or fast enough to think of a better plan. I’m just glad it worked out.”
“You’re injured. That’s hardly what I would call working out.”
“My ankle is already feeling better.”
“It doesn’t look better. It looks broken.”
She glanced down and saw the obvious swelling. “It’s not broken. It looks worse than it is. Once I’m on my feet, I’ll just walk it off.”
His thighs tightened against her hips. “You can’t walk off a broken bone, no matter how advanced your skills at denial are.”
“I’m not an idiot. I know my own limits.”
“Apparently not, seeing as how you thought you might be able to fly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I knew I couldn’t fly.” As soon as she said the words and felt his body tense against hers, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.
She turned her torso enough that she could look up at him. “Can we please just let it go? I did what I thought was right.”
He looked down at her, which put his mouth only inches from hers. It was the perfect angle for a kiss—at least she thought so. She couldn’t remember ever having been kissed, but her lips still tingled in eagerness, as if they knew exactly what to do.
Torr cupped her cheek. His hand was so big it nearly covered the side of her face. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone, awakening some deep awareness she’d never felt before.
Once again, that odd sense of familiarity assaulted her, shoving out all other thought.
“You touch me like you’ve done so all your life,” she told him.
His eyes darkened. He licked his lips, and her gaze was drawn to the curved indentation above his top lip. The urge to dip the tip of her tongue in the groove was almost more than she could resist. She had the strangest sense that if she did so, he would taste sweet and forbidden, like hidden memories.
Beard stubble shadowed his jaw, lending him a harsher edge. Curiosity lifted her hand until she was touching the roughness riding his skin. A strange shock of excitement rocketed along her spine until her pain was a distant, meaningless thing.
His hand slid to encircle her throat in a touch so gentle she had to concentrate to feel more than a tingling heat. His forearm settled between her breasts, and she was sure her heart sped up to match his pulse.
“You would have looked so pretty wearing my luceria,” he said.
She didn’t know what that was, but the way he said it, it hardly mattered. “If you want me to, I will.”
A sad smile curved his mouth. “I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted, but it’s impossible. Like so many things.”
Before her head cleared enough for her to ask him what that meant, he helped her sit up and he stood, all in one fluid movement.
With his strength and heat out of reach, the horrible cold of her shock and fear began seeping back in. She suppressed a shiver until his back was turned before she gave in to it.
He surveyed the area. “When you’re ready, we’ll see if you can stand, or if you’re more damaged than you think. If you can walk, we’ll head back to the village.”
“If I can’t walk, you should go back for help.”
He turned toward her then, his gaze intense against the backdrop of the orange sky. “I know you hardly know me, but do you really think I’d leave you out here to fend for yourself, wounded and alone?”
“What other choice do you have? You have to be back before nightfall.”
“I can carry you.”
“It’s too far. I’ll be fine here. I’ll just hide in the cave over there until you can get back.”
