Froze

Without a word, he returned to the wash table, picked up the brush and resumed what he'd been doing before. I was on my way into the bedroom, when his voice startled me.

"No." I glanced back and met his eyes.

"When I claim your body I want you writhing beneath me in pleasure and not with fear."

And I was already dressed in an summer dress and a golden belt to accentuate my waist when he stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.

Then I sat on the chair in front of my vanity, putting on make-up, but froze with the mascara brush inches from my eye when I saw him. He walked toward the wardrobe and picked out black pants and a white shirt before he dropped his towel without shame.

But I didn't look away fast enough and was rewarded with his firm backside. I lowered my eyes and busied myself with checking my nails until I dared to face the mirror again and put on mascara.

He buttoned his shirt, except for the upper two. He strapped a knife to his forearm and rolled the sleeve over it, then put a gun holster around his calf. I turned around.

"Do you ever go anywhere without guns?"

No chest holster today because it couldn't be hidden well with only a white shirt.

"Not if I can avoid it."

He considered me.

"Do you know how to shoot a gun or use a knife?"

"No. My father doesn't think women should get involved in fights."

"Sometimes fights come to you. This is in middle the Mongo and the Armstrong between, so don't make a difference between men and women."

"So you've never killed a woman?"

His expression tightened.

"I didn't say that."

I waited for him to elaborate but he didn't. Maybe it was for the best.

I stood, smoothing out my dress, nervous about meeting my father and Master Fu after the wedding night.

"Good choice," Fu Shao said.

"The dress covers your legs."

"Someone could lift the skirt and inspect my thighs."

It was meant as a joke but his lips pulled into a snarl.

"If someone tries to touch you, they lose their hand."

I didn't say anything. His protectiveness thrilled and scared me in equal parts. He waited for me at the door and I approached him uncertainly. His words from the bathroom still rang in my ears.

Writhe in pleasure. I wasn't sure I was even close to being relaxed enough around him for anything coming close to pleasure.

But Qina was right. I couldn't allow myself to trust him that easily. He could be manipulating me.

He rested his hand on my lower back as we walked out.

When we reached the top of the stairs, I could already hear conversation and a few scattered guests were talking in small groups in the huge entrance hall.

I froze.

"Are they all waiting to see a bloody sheet?" I whispered, appalled.

He peered down at me, smirking.

"Many of them, especially the women. The men might hope for dirty details, others might hope to talk about business, ask a favour, to get on my good side."

He gently pressed me forward and we walked down the steps.