Chapter Six

Jiron settled his broad chest against my back. I felt the heat of him through his clothes as he wrapped his arms around me and enclosed my small hands in his huge ones. I loved how calm and kind my giant was as he began to wash my hands between his, paying careful attention to each individual finger. He traced my calluses, cleaned my nails, and as if he somehow knew , stroked a line down that sensitive spot on the inside of my thumb, making me shiver.

He chuckled in my ear, low and soft, and that did dangerous things to the health of my heart.

"Clean enough, little Wyatt?" he asked.

I shook my head, making sure the rest of my body moved with it so I could brush against the full length of him. Jiron took the hint and nestled in even closer, enclosing me in those massive arms that made me feel so safe and secure that I could have fallen asleep right there if I wasn't so turned on.

"Not nearly enough," I whispered back, and I hoped I wasn't imagining the interested little growl that emanated from the man at my back.

I played with his hands in turn, keeping up the pretence of washing as I applied similar diligence to ensuring every square inch of his skin was clean. These hands had killed, I knew. Wielded the sword at his hip with deadly precision, snapped necks, torn foes from limb to limb in defence of his king and country. Yet they yielded to my touch, gentle and tender.

Something unexpectedly splashed against my leg and I jumped, only to realise how securely I was caught by the man at my back when all that did was press us closer against each other. Jiron laughed again, a joyous sound I didn't hear nearly enough, and reached past me to turn off the tap.

Glancing down, I realised we'd been so wrapped up in each other – physically and figuratively – that we hadn't noticed the ground below the tap flooding. Clods of dirt floated in the murky puddle, the drainage here sufficient for a quick hand washing but not the amount of water we'd been wasting, and I gave the other man a sheepish grin before drying my hands on my trousers.

"Would you like to take a walk?" I prompted. Jiron was so much taller than me that I had to crane my head to see his face when we were standing this close, but I didn't mind. I liked the huge, solid mass of his body, how comforting a presence it offered, and how he didn't trip and stumble like I did. But I'd seen him in action – not that he probably knew that, seeing as I'd had to sneak away to the training fields to catch sight of him – and he could be graceful in his movements too. Like a river...or a waterfall. Powerful and unstoppable and magnificent, but also so damn beautiful it took my breath away.

A small frown line formed between his amber eyes and he glanced in the direction Zovisasha had disappeared.

"It's my lunch break," I said. It was a little early for such things, but I'd make it up to my mistress later. Life was Blessed short, and I wasn't giving up time with this man for anything.

Jiron returned his gaze to mine and inclined his head into a nod. I liked what I saw in his expression: a kind of hunger that mirrored mine.

"And I'm not working today."

"I know," I told him happily.

He blinked, bemused. "How do you know ? Our guard rosters are deliberately randomised to avoid security breaches."

"I know that too."

The furrowed brow returned.

"Nothing nefarious," I promised, realising he was worried about his king's safety being compromised. "Luis told me your shifts for the week."

" Luis? " Jiron frowned and muttered something under his breath.

"Please don't blame him. I was quite convincing."

Why that made Jiron start and pull closer to me, laying a heavy hand protectively on my shoulder, I didn't know. Why I found it so hot was much less of a mystery.

I used it as an excuse to slide my fingers into his and tug him towards the outer palace walls. His skin was already dry from the sun.

"Come," I murmured.

No more dancing around. I'd been dropping hints his way since that first day we'd met, and the man was refusing to take them. I saw the flicker of interest in those amber eyes whenever he looked at me, and surely he wouldn't have been so eager to press his body against mine just now if I was reading him wrong?

I didn't know what was holding Jiron back, but today I was going to find out. I wanted him to make me his.

And if he rejected me? If he left me empty and unfulfilled and humiliated?

I refused to think about that.

*