Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“I will serve you faithfully. You have my word on it,” Quiver said with relief, though he didn’t stop trembling.
“You’ll walk in front of us,” Arran ordered and took his wife’s arm for them to step aside and let Quiver pass. He did with cautious steps.
Purity walked beside her husband and watched as Princess, with a tap of a paw from King after settling himself on top of her back, moved to walk next to Quiver while Hope continued behind Arran. She was right about the man, but then King was never wrong about a person’s true nature. Why then had he not gone near Arran? Jealous? Could that be possible?
Hours passed before they stopped for a rest. Clouds hovered overhead, but there was not a scent of impending rain in the air. Quiver’s remark about Arran being Satan haunted her. It troubled her that such gossip existed and it troubled her even more that gossip often started with a grain of truth but grew wildly out of control with each wagging tongue. What disturbed her the most about it was that Arran had agreed with him, and she wanted to know why. She also wanted to ask Quiver about it, but not in front of her husband.
After a drink from the stream they’d stopped by, Quiver went and sat against a rock, resting his head back against it. Princess followed him and stretched out beside him, which didn’t surprise Purity since Princess always knew when someone was in need. Quiver stroked her back, his trembling finally ceased.
“Don’t dare ask him,” Arran warned as he dropped down beside her on the ground.
His face was wet from a quick scrubbing, little rivulets of water hugging his cheeks and descending slowly as if they didn’t want to let go. She couldn’t blame them for not wanting to let go, he was a handsome one. His features so fine a woman would never get tired of looking at him. But oddly enough she was jealous of the drops that clung to his lips. His lips belonged to her and no one else. Without thinking, she leaned close and kissed the drops from his lips until they were no more.
“Don’t think to distract me,” he said when she finished, though that was a complete lie since her unexpected kiss had done just that. Her scrunched brow told him she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t dare ask him,” he repeated.
Purity shook her head, trying to clear it and make sense of what her husband referred to. She backtracked to before he had sat down beside her and it instantly came to her.
“I see on your face that you understand what I mean.”
“I won’t need to ask Quiver if you explain why you believe you’re referred to as Satan,” she said, determined to get an answer.
“You don’t want to know,” he warned.
“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t want to know.”
“Leave it alone, Purity,” he ordered sharply.
She smiled. “There is something you should learn about women. By ordering them to leave it alone, you’re actually telling them to go ahead and find out.” She could have sworn he snarled, a low, rumbling snarl.
“Do I need to remind you that it is a wife’s duty to obey her husband.”
Her smile grew. “I warned you that I was no longer the obedient lass you once knew, but you wed me anyway.” He went to argue and she kissed him, lingering in it for a few moments and faintly running her finger along his lips when she was done. “I love the taste of your cool, wet lips.”
Arran fought against the urge to grab her and kiss her until—he shook his head. “Now is not the time or place.”
“For a kiss?” She kissed him quickly. “There is always time for a kiss, especially since I discovered how much I enjoy kissing you.” His hand was at the back of her neck, gripping it tight and she hadn’t even seen him move it.
“I can’t love you,” he whispered harshly, rushing his lips over hers as his words left a horrible, empty ache in his heart.
“I didn’t ask you to,” she said softly and kissed him again, lingering, coaxing, and slipping her tongue past his lips as he’d often done to her.
He was too hungry for her kiss to deny himself, and he let himself enjoy it for a few moments. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted like the last time. The memory of the attack when she’d distracted him by the pool of water had him ending the kiss.
As his hand fell away from her neck, she whispered, “I love you enough for the both of us.”
The stab to his heart, her words, her touch, her kiss left him with a strange feeling that was becoming all too familiar, and he wondered over it.