Page 18 of Caroline the Cruel
“Same thing,” he said, the agitation of five years of subservience peeking through his polished veneer. No doubt an effect of the single glass he’d allowed himself.
Caroline reached up on the tips of her toes and pressed a finger to his lips. It took all his control not to pucker them and place a kiss to her cool fingertip. That was concerning.
“You are wrong,” she said. “Attendants are paid. Servants are owned. You should know that, Specialist Althorp, since you’re such an enthusiastic fan of mine.”
A girlish grin played at the edge of her lips, and he cursed Angus and the notes on his dossier. Caroline’s self-assured manner, the way she spoke with such certainty, caused an uneasy sensation to pop into Johnneth’s awareness. An idea, like the first bud of spring. Veetula was wrong, Everstal was right. And it wasn’t the history between the two warring kingdoms, it was the way things were done, the laws and traditions she looked down upon. She could do it better. That was her fundamental stance.
Johnneth said a quick prayer of thanks to the Gods that Caroline was too tipsy to notice his slip up. “Of course, you’re right,” he said for good measure, even as he doused the bud with a frigid gust and cursed himself for not bringing the rosenwood dagger. What a perfect opportunity wasted.
A soft rapt sounded at the door and anattendantslipped her head inside. “Oh, perfect,” he said, relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck alone, undressing the queen. Johnneth gestured for the woman to come unravel Caroline and he went to take his position against the wall by the door, deciding not to worry about what his relief suggested.
The attendant swiftly pulled the laces through the first of the eyelets and the seam at the back eased open. Caroline’s shoulders lowered ever so slightly. The protruding veins in her neck retreated below the surface of her smooth skin. Her breathing evened out as she released the tension she must feel all day packaged up as the Queen of Everstal.
Johnneth could almost feel empathy for her. He knew all too well what it was like keeping up a carefully constructed façade—it was something they had in common. But his mind quickly raced to the workers and how willing she had been to use that awful power her family line had inherited to force their hands. She was just another Dallimore.
“This explains why you took so long in the bathroom today,” he teased despite himself as the attendant pulled the final lace free.Don’t.Keep it professional. But it was so easy to get sucked in when he was around her, like her very presence charged the air drawing him in.
Both the attendant and Caroline shot him a smirk.
“Thank you, Silvie,” Caroline said, and leaned forward so the woman could peel the material over her shoulders and down her hips as if he weren’t standing there. “Some heated water would be nice. To wipe the dust from the road away.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”Silvie, another attendant whose name she memorized, curtsied and scuttled to the adjoining chamber.
The fishlike scale rippled with her movement as she sunk into a high-backed chair and held a booted foot out to him without saying a word. A grin sparked from her lips to his as he obediently palmed its heel and tugged, slipping it off her foot. Then the other. He glanced after the attendant.
“You’re nervous.” Caroline’s discerning gaze roved across his body, and he could feel her savoring his form like the wine she’d drank earlier.Her eyes hadn’t lingered on Hastings that way.
His male pride surged, even as the corners of his mouth turned down. “Hardly,” he said, scoffing. He wasn’t the type of man who got nervous around women. Even ones as disarming as Caroline.
“Oh, that’s right,” she crooned. “Overconfident.Did Silvie ruin your plan to seduce me, then? Tempt, then ravish me Specialist Johnneth Althorpe?” she said, her tone smoothing out, licking across his awareness. Taunting. “I see the way you look at me. Think I couldn’t have resisted you?”
Laughter burst from her lips. She didn’t think it would have been possible and part of him, the male part that also had other ideas about what it wanted, was dying to prove her wrong. A voice in his head cautioned,Dangerous territory.
“No, Your Majesty.” His own voice lowered into a grumble as she worked the little latch that held the armor in place along her sides. When she’d unsecured the last latch, she pulled the front piece off and stood, laying it atop the other that had slipped off into the chair behind her. A damp undershirt clung to her skin and the silver suit still hung half on her hips as she sauntered to the bathing chamber. Johnneth kept his eyes raised, but when she turned, he couldn’t help but track each swish of her hips as she moved, arms raised, freeing hairpins, one by one, until all that beautiful hair fell in waves around her fine-boned shoulders.
“Good. Because, as you’ll find out soon enough, I’m not one to be trifled with.” She paused at the threshold and eyed him over her shoulder, silver iris’s glinting in the candlelight.
Her gaze, which held all the authority of her position, struck him with a sudden clarity and he almost stumbled back. Caroline Dallimore was the type of fiercely self-assured woman he’d envisioned for a wife. Not her, obviously, but someone like her, who could heat his blood with a glance, get under his skin, and keep him guessing.
The problem was in his thirty-five years, he’d never met a woman quite like Everstal’s queen. She might be twenty-four, but there was a timeless intelligence with a sensual undercurrent swirling in her eyes and he liked it. A lot. He needed to end her, complete his mission, and get out of here before he decided to do something stupid like claim her. The challenge in her eyes made him certain there was no other man up for the task.
“That will be all,” she said, dismissing him.
Johnneth clenched his teeth, spun on his heel, and retreated to his own assigned room next to hers. He nodded to the guards outside the doors as he slipped inside, a whirlwind of conflicting sensations nipping at his heels.
Boards creaked as heavy footsteps traced out onto the balcony ruining the silence Caroline was relishing. “You’re awake?” her guard asked, voice as abrupt as the bright morning sun.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Caroline waved a hand at the spread crowding the little table where she sat. “Feel free,” she said, watching him survey the food, but opt to take a position leaning against the railing.
“Don’t be insufferable. You’re blocking the view.”
Johnneth’s chest flexed, and he ran a hand down his flat stomach, like he disagreed with her statement. Since he was more than willing to show it off, she let her eyes follow him as he paced around behind her, near enough at her shoulder she could hear his breathing. “They’re already gathering,” he said. At least twenty people stood outside the estate’s gates and a lone rider was trotting out to open them.
“Seems my people are eager to have their opinions heard this morning.” The sun was fully above the horizon when the final workers made their way up the drive and had lined up outside the entrance of the estate. Dominique walked out on the balcony to join them, along with several of the apprentices from the prior evening’s dinner.
“Ready to get this over with?” Dominique asked.
Caroline shrugged. “It’s bad timing. Normally I’d be more generous, but Angus got back a day ago and what he brought with him has soured my mood.”
