Page 20 of Hooked

“Then why can’t I?” I challenged.

He sat up and leaned forward, bringing his face closer to mine than I was comfortable with. “I just wanted to see you smile. That’s all.”

I blinked. “Do I not smile enough?”

“When you’re with Marilee and the other women, you do. Otherwise, they’re quite rare.” His eyes swept over my face, making my neck grow hot. “And I like earning them.”

A smile almost curved my lips then, but my confusion squashed it before it could fully materialize. I was uncomfortable with Falstone having the upper hand in our conversations, so I decided to fire back a question of my own. “Speaking of being changeable—”

He grinned at that description.

“Why wouldn’t you look at me before?”

His grin dropped from his lips and I knew I was on to something. “I looked at you,” he argued without conviction.

I gave him a disbelieving tilt of my head. “You glanced at me, the same way you looked at the furniture. All the time we were at Bridgefield, and most of the time we were in Dalthia…” I let the accusation linger.

His eyes fell to the floor.

I waited, hoping he would answer my question without further prompting. Instead, he put the flute back to his lips. I reached out, covering his fingers with my own where they held the instrument. He finally looked up at me again.

“You avoided looking at me then much like you are doing now. What changed?”

His gaze was so intense that I almost regretted forcing the question. Then his eyes fell to my mouth and he finally answered. “I told you. You were a distraction.” He swallowed. “Anytime I looked at you, I had to fight to look away again. For someone whose job it is to be watchful…” He scooted forward just a little and I couldn’t help my swift intake of breath. His gaze finally returned to my eyes. “You were a distraction I could not afford.”

When he leaned in just a little more, I broke the gaze he’d caught me in and stood abruptly, looking about the room for something else to focus on.

There. On the corner table. The book Marilee had asked for.

“There it is.” I crossed to it, picking it up and hugging it to my chest. “The princess asked for this. I should get it to her.” I tried to give him a parting smile as I hurried from the room, but it was forced and we both knew it. “Good day, Falstone.”

“Good day, Cecily.”

***

I was starting to like Falstone.

Which was unacceptable. I didn’t want to like him, certainly not any more than I did now. If I allowed myself to care for him, then I would have to trust him.

And I did trust him. Sort of. In certain situations. But I could not trust him with everything. I couldn’t trust anyone with everything. Some truths belonged to me alone.

So when he appeared again in the hallway a few days later—still as a statue, but with his hands fisted firmly on the hilt of his knife at one hip and his sword at the other—I only paused for a moment before continuing on.

I wanted to play the game, but I couldn’t. Not when I was so unsure of myself and my feelings. Not when I was committed to the life I’d chosen. Alone.

The following day, I went riding with Marilee. Sir James had to stay behind to meet a man who was looking for a mount, so it was only me, Marilee and Falstone. He was deeply committed to his role as soldier as we rode. That was good. It was as it should be. Marilee’s safety was of paramount importance, and our almost-friendship was not a good idea, especially if I was still the distraction that Falstone claimed I used to be. So I did my best to be a good companion to Marilee and just enjoy the ride.

Marilee managed to maneuver ahead of both of us, leaving my horse to walk alongside Falstone’s.

“You said you wanted to play the game,” he said out of nowhere.

“What?” I asked, confused. “What game?”

“I confessed something about myself. Something quite personal, in fact. I admitted that I like to see myself as a character. I enjoy playing a role,” he said in clipped tones, rehashing our former conversation. “You asked if I would ever invite you to play the game.”

I looked away, embarrassed that I had been so bold that day. “Yes, I did.”

“So I did. I tried to get you to play the game.” Frustration rang through his voice. “And you seemed happy about it. At first.”