WAIT FOR LOVE (Lovemark #4)

8. Olivander

8

Olivander

The cloaked figure before me drew in a sharp, unexpected breath at my taunting statement.

But I’m the one who experienced the true shock when she spoke. “At least you didn’t ask me how much I charged.”

My lips parted, and I automatically released the blade from her throat as I took a step back because I hadn’t been expecting my follower to be a woman. The king usually assigned other men to trail me. It was unnerving to realize he’d changed his ways enough to catch me off guard like this.

“After the night I’ve had,” she added. “That’s quite refreshing.”

“What?” I blinked, hoping she didn’t expect me to know what she was talking about.

“For you, however,” she went on conversationally lifting her face enough to show me bright blue that blinked boldly, not a single ounce of coy maidenly hesitation in their depth. “You’d never be charged a fee for my attentions.”

Utterly baffled by this creature, I nudged a pale, feminine lock of long, golden hair escaping the opening of her cloak with my sword before moving the pointed tip to her hood to uncover her head and fully expose her face.

God’s blood, but she was beautiful. Uncommonly tall, but still utterly stunning. I was used to towering over most of the men I encountered; I typically had to crane my neck way down to address the female population. This figure, however, she was only an inch or three shorter than me.

Smiling, she stepped away from the wall to curtsy slightly, dipping her knees and tipping her head just enough to be gracious but not subordinate.

As if we were equals.

“My prince,” she murmured in polite greeting.

A sudden wash of heat flooded me as I watched her long lashes lower enough to conceal those sharp, watchful eyes as if she might actually consider acquiescing to me but never to anyone else. Then she looked up again and straightened, the questioning glint in her eyes damn near challenging me to seize and conquer everything before me.

Lust bloomed, pouring down the length of my c**k until my very skin prickled with the need to overpower her, to once again pin her back to the wall, lift her skirts, and press my hips forward, matching my ache to hers.

I blinked, releasing an unsettled breath, then scowled at her, not a fan of the urges she’d just uprooted inside me.

She was much too attractive to be following me. Too direct. Too tall. What the hell was my father playing at, sending a maiden like this after me? He didn’t honestly think my secrets could be coaxed from me so easily, did he?

With a startled gasp as if she could read my thoughts, the beguiling woman blinked at me, her eyes glazed with passion as her tongue briefly flicked across her bottom lip to wet it, leaving her mouth glistening with moist temptation.

Damn, but if anyone could succeed at my father’s bidding to seduce confidential matters from me, it would definitely be this woman.

Exhaling low, she reached out her hand slowly, aiming toward my face. “Olivander.”

I snagged her wrist before she made contact and growled, “No touching,” even though I couldn’t ignore the feel of her warm flesh in my grip as I touched her and marveled over the strength I felt despite how frail the bone and tendons seemed to be against my palm.

Some wickedly barbaric male urge to dominate and meld her to my will flared inside me.

“Why are you following me?” I demanded, gritting my teeth to force myself past the primal impulses flooding my veins.

“Your hair,” she breathed in a dazed, fixated kind of awe as her other hand lifted toward my mane. “It’s so long.”

I used the flat side of the sword to prevent her second hand from reaching me as I frowned over her inability to follow a single order. “You’re following me because of my hair?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Try again.”

She rolled her eyes and sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’m not following you because of your hair. But I’m ever so curious to know when you started growing it out. It’s...” She blinked rapidly and drew in a deep breath before rasping, “Beautiful.”

The desire to rut, right here against this wall, grew even stronger.

But God almighty, what the devil was wrong with me?

Dori and I were going to have a serious talk about her putting ideas in my head to seek relief from women who were not my mate because what other reason would be making me react so strongly to this one? It was bad enough that I had considered the idea with Dori, whom I actually knew. But this stranger...

Why did I want to consume her whole?

Eyelashes fluttering as if she were being drawn under the same spell as I was, the woman in my arms tipped her face up, let her eyes fall fully closed, and then she drew in a deep breath, her nostrils quivering before she sighed heavily and focused on me again.

“You still smell the same,” she whispered, her eyes misting as if they were filling with nostalgic tears. “I think I might’ve missed your scent the most.”

Alarmed by such an intimate statement, I squinted at her. “And just how do you know my scent?”

Were we acquaintances? Her features did seem strangely familiar. I experienced a strange sense of confusion before I realized she was studying me just as strongly as I was studying her.

I let go of her wrist, lowered my sword, and took a measured step back. She gave a sudden smile, as if she knew how deeply she affected me, and my heart lurched in my chest, responding to it.

When a strong ache rushed up my throat, it surprised me back to reality, and I frowned—mostly at myself for getting so drawn into her allure—and I snapped my fingers at her. “I need an answer.”

“To what?” she murmured dreamily.

Really? I ground my teeth. “You said you missed my scent? But how can that be if we’re strangers?”

Her eyes flared guiltily. “Oh! I—well, I just meant, I know who you are because I—I was a…a washerwoman,” she explained, pausing, then rushing the explanation, as if it had just come to her. Nodding, she smiled brightly. “Yes. And I remember when they’d bring your clothes down for the wash. They always carried a very distinct aroma. It was by far my favorite scent.”

God, her voice.

I did not appreciate how it teased me.

Feminine and bracing, it reminded me of invigorating and crisp spring water on heated flesh after a sweltering day of rigorous training. It went down with such stimulating refreshment and surprise that a person could eagerly drown in it.

I shifted menacingly closer, hoping to intimidate her into stopping this t****l she kept dragging me under. “So you know Ianna?” I asked.

Erick’s wife had also been a washerwoman before he had sensed her one day as his true love and made her his wife.

“I, uh, yes. I-I knew who she was. Of course. But we weren’t...” The stranger cleared her throat, clearly nervous. “That is, she was before my time.”

“And that’s why you followed me around the city after dark?” I countered, not buying her story in the least. “Because you like my scent?”

With a rueful shrug, she countered, “Can you blame me for my maidenly fascination?”

I sniffed dubiously and narrowed my eyes.

She flashed another brilliant smile. “How observant of you, though. I had no idea you realized I was following you for so long.”

“You gave yourself away at the tavern.”

She nodded, not surprised, before guessing, “When I gasped as the p********e attacked you?”

“Indeed.”

She sighed soberly. “Well, it was quite an intriguing adventure you took me on, even if my shrouding skills need some practice. I was left with so many questions.”

“As was I,” I agreed. “Like who are you and why you’re really following me. If my father put you up to this—”

“The king?” Her eyes flared with surprise before she sniffed and wrinkled her nose disdainfully. “Certainly not. I wouldn’t do that man’s bidding unless my life depended on it.”

Well, she had some cheek, didn’t she, to besmirch her ruler’s name to his own son? I reluctantly had to admire that about her, even as I arched one eyebrow and asked, “Does your life depend on it?”

It wasn’t at all beneath my father to blackmail people into his service. He’d definitely blackmailed me a time or two.

Eyes softening with sympathy, my lady sleuth shook her head. “No, my lord,” she promised softly. “I’m not working for your father. He has no idea I’m here at all, and please believe me when I say we should keep it that way.”

I nodded, finding myself trusting that about her, if nothing else. “Your name, then?” I asked.

“I…” She didn’t seem to have an available answer. “Er…”

“I never realized asking for a person’s name was such a difficult inquiry,” I taunted.

She narrowed her eyes, not a fan of my dry sarcasm, and snipped back, “As I recall, you have yet to actually ask the question.”

When she arched her eyebrows astutely, I drew in a deep breath through my nostrils and lifted the sword back to her throat. “I am not amused.”

But the threat of being cut didn’t seem to bother her. A knowing grin tipped up her red lips, and I swear she leaned into the blade as her eyes glinted with challenge. “Not even a little?” she mocked. “I thought I was rather clever myself.”

“Enough banter,” I growled, shifting closer as well until our noses nearly touched. “What do you want from me?”

She only drew out a long whistle and shook her head. “Now, that’s a loaded question, but for now…” She slid her hand into her pocket and immediately began to withdraw it again.

I dropped the sword in order to catch her wrist, stopping her from pulling a weapon on me. “Easy, love. Hands where I can see them.”

She smiled, entertained by my caution. “Really? You think I plan to hurt you? Hmph. Your pain is the last thing I would wish for. I swear. I merely wanted to apply.”

My brow furrowed. “Apply?”

When she gave an experimental, almost questioning tug on her hand that I was forcing her to keep in her pocket, I reluctantly let her pull it free, and she held up a slip of parchment.

“For the position of female assistant,” she told me.

Realizing what she held, I snagged the note from her grip. “This was not meant to be taken from the notice board.”

“I know, but if I hadn’t taken it, then someone else might’ve applied.”

“That’s the point,” I bit out. “Now, it’s time for you to go. Let me introduce you to one of the kind guards at the—”

When I reached for her arm, she darted out of my grip with an incredulous gasp. “You’re going to have me arrested? For merely applying for a job? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Oh, don’t even pretend you’re actually interested in the position. You were following me long before I even posted the notice.”

“I followed you because watching you handle those thugs made me curious about you. But I genuinely do wish to apply.”

“Yet you failed to observe the instructions in the actual posting to contact Blockton about the position, and you followed me all the way to my private bedchamber. That invasive kind of encroachment is unacceptable.”

She frowned in confusion. “So, you honestly won’t even consider it?”

I huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Absolutely not.”

With an irritated sniff, she scowled. “But I can read and write, and I even know my numbers better than most. Plus I’ve been formally trained in the ways of proper decorum. And my loyalty to you would be—”

“Somehow,” I broke in dryly, “I have a feeling your loyalty would be anything but reliable.”

“Excuse me,” she growled, stepping closer, her blue eyes flaring with ire. “I’ll have you know, I would be the most trustworthy assistant you could ever find. Why do you need an assistant anyway? You no longer have a young ward that needs governing. Is this about the R-generation Gray—”

My eyes flared, and I slapped my hand over her mouth to keep her from saying anything too incriminating where just anyone could hear her.

“Mention that aloud within these walls again,” I hissed into her ear from between clenched teeth, “and I will throttle you mute. Do you understand me?”

When I pulled back just enough to take in her expression and make sure she understood, I watched her blink from wide, surprised eyes before she slowly nodded in compliance. “Understood,” she whispered as I slowly lowered my hand from her mouth.

I released a relieved breath, and the door behind me promptly opened.

“Vander?” a familiar voice asked.

Guiltily caught hovering so closely to the woman in front of me, I lurched a step back, causing her eyes to flare even wider as they shifted past me to settle on Dori, who I could hear behind me stepping into the hallway to join us.

“Thank God,” the earthling breathed. “I thought that was your voice. You were gone so long, I was starting to—Oh!”

She paused, and when I glanced toward her, she was too busy noticing that I had company to acknowledge me.

As the two women took each other in, Dori was the first to respond. Grinning hesitantly, she waved. “Hey.” Then she glanced askance at me and lifted her brows meaningfully. “Looks like you found another stray to take in. I guess I should’ve known this would be a habit of yours.” Turning back, she held out her hand. “I’m Dori.”

“Don’t tell her your name,” I warned, pushing Dori’s hand down and sending her a harsh glance, only to pause and blink when I noticed—

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

She’d slipped into a terry cloth robe that was tied snugly at the waist, but she’d wrapped a towel around her head like a turban.

“Oh.” With a grin, she waved a hand over herself. “I had a bath, and oh my God, it felt so good. After three damn days of wearing the same clothes, I just couldn’t put them on again. Your brother, whom I also met, by the way, ordered it for me. Nice guy. You never said he was so nice. And hey, check this out.”

She tugged up the sleeve of her robe, then flipped her arm over to expose the smooth, inner side of her forearm. “I have a tattoo now. Is that crazy or what? I certainly didn’t have this sucker at home. Hell, I don’t even remember having it yesterday.”

I blinked, certain I was seeing things. But every time my lashes fell and rose again, it was still there—the symbol of a pentagram inside a circle with the letter G in the center.

Finally able to respond, I jerked a startled step back, and the mysterious woman at my side did the same, gasping the very word that was screaming through my own head.

“G-Graykey,” she uttered.

Dori’s expression froze as she looked up. “What?”

The stranger spun to gape at me. “You...you…”

She was going to say Graykey again; I just knew it. So I grabbed her arm and dragged both her and Dori into my bedchamber before slamming the door shut and containing the three of us alone inside.