Anya understood the logic behind his appearance; so he could hide amongst them and not stand out as a target. And he made it clear he would only feel she was truly safe if he was one of the men protecting her. But she wanted Merivic with her, to help pass the time and erase her nerves of the unknown. She had far too much time to think and daydream in the carriage by herself. She needed him to be near, because only then did she feel completely comfortable with their destination.
It was only midday, day one of their journey, and already Anya had had enough of this isolation. Sticking her head out the window, she called to the driver to stop. Startled, he yanked back on the reigns and slowed the horses. Before he could question her further, Anya whipped open the carriage door and dropped to her feet.
The nearest soldier looked at her with wide eyes, then glanced nervously at the caravan coming to a slow behind them. “Milady, you must get back inside.”
“No,” she flatly refused, her gaze combing over the men in search of Merivic.
The soldier was flustered by her insolence and it was apparent in the tight, hard tone of his voice as he called out, “Sire!”
She spotted Merivic just as he turned toward the commotion. He came rushing over, his face flushed with concern.
“Anya, what is it? What is wrong?”
“Nothing. I cannot stand to sit in there by myself any longer.”
“It is for your safety.”
“Am I not a bigger target in this big, fancy carriage?” She poked a finger in its direction.
“Yes, but I will not let—”
“Then I will walk, or go by horse. The choice is yours. But I will not get back into that carriage without you.”
“I will not have you walking all the way to Decessus.” Merivic’s tone was firm and left no room for discussion. But Anya was not swayed, and in fact, thought she knew a way around his stubborn stance.
“I want to be with you. Would you deny me that?” She arched a brow.
The corner of his mouth twitched as his voice softened. “No, I would not.” He sighed as he flashed a hand gesture to the wagon halting behind them—some sort of communication Anya did not yet understand. “Very well, you may walk—or ride—whatever you choose. And I will stay near.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, attempting to keep the smugness concealed.
Merivic narrowed his eyes as he took her hand and brought it to his mouth. He glowered at her a moment, torn between his admiration and frustration for her behavior. And then, despite himself, smirked as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “If I tell you to retreat to the carriage, please do as I say without question.”
“If you tell me to do so, I will know the situation is dire and will only do as you say.”
A soldier approached from behind, holding a long, dull green traveling cloak. Merivic took it from him with a nod, and guided Anya to turn around. Reaching around her neck, he unsnapped her brilliant red cloak and replaced it with the less conspicuous one.
“Tomorrow we will have you dress in more suitable attire so you do not draw so much attention. For today, this should be well enough. This region is not so dangerous, though we would be wise not be fall into complacency.” He tugged the front of her cloak closed. “Ready?”
“I am. I will walk for a time, and then travel by horse.”
Merivic motioned for the caravan to resume its pace and began by walking next to Anya. Little by little, he eased into the crowd of soldiers until he was nearly hidden, but Anya kept a sharp eye on him so she was always aware of his placement. It was not how she had preferred to travel with her future husband, but it was better than the alternative, so she was content to leave it be.
For now.
Chapter 11
Merivic and two other soldiers swept the flap aside and stepped into the tent. The soldiers took their position on either side of the entryway while Merivic strode ahead to the closed curtain—a makeshift shroud of privacy for the beautiful woman within.
“Anya?”
“Yes. Please, come in.”
He split the opening with his arm and held it to the side before letting the partition close behind him. Anya was standing at a large chest, digging around in the contents. She was wearing a black silky robe, tied tight at the waist.
“I was just looking for some traveling clothes for tomorrow.”
“I have seen to that, and will have the garments ready when you awaken. I believe all the clothing within that chest are dresses, gowns, and…um…undergarments.”
Anya turned toward his slightly abashed tone and smiled at his discomfort. For as strong and unyielding as his presence was, he could equally be so soft and disarming. “Yes, this is where I found my sleeping attire.” She ran her hand down her hip as she smoothed out the material. “It is quite comfortable. Thank you.”
“I left it to the seamstress’ discretion as to what she made for you. Although, I must agree, she has done a fine job.”
Anya considered what he had said for a moment. “When did you employ a seamstress? It takes quite some time to make an entire wardrobe.”
Merivic worried his neck as he replied. “When you agreed to let me call on you.”
“Rather confident, are you not?” Her tone was tight with a controlled annoyance.
“No. Merely hopeful.” He flashed a brilliant smile at her and winked, making her knees go weak.
She snickered at her own reaction and looked to the thick mattress placed directly on the ground. Her ensuing thought brought a flutter to her belly. “Are you staying the night with me?”
“What?” His eyes widened as he shook his head. “No. It would be inappropriate for me to do so. I simply came to bid you good night.”
Anya hitched her arm on her hip as she studied him. And then—feeling a sudden surge of courage—tugged the tied belt at her waist, allowing her robe to fall open. The fast flash of cleavage exposed by her skimpy, black nightgown had Merivic quickly turning to ensure her privacy. Nevertheless, she still saw the clench of his jaw, betraying the depth of his need.
Anya grinned at his back as she pulled off the robe and folded it on top of the chest.
“We are to be married, yes?”
“We are.”
“Then why do you turn away from me? And what, exactly, would be inappropriate about spending time with the woman you are to wed?”
Anya stepped toward him, the delicate material of her nightgown clinging to her form before flaring out over hips and thighs.
“I, um…” He trailed off when Anya’s hands landed on his hips, only to then snake their way up his chest, tucking herself tight against his back.
He growled in longing when she pressed her lips against his neck, and before she could register the movement, he spun about and wrapped his arms around her frame, drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss.
Anya clung to him, eager for the contact after feeling so isolated all day, arching her body against his. Her stomach was a tumble of nerves and she felt as if she was about to jump out of her skin, but he felt right under her hands. She wanted nothing more than to become lost in him, and savor the warmth of his touch.
Merivic’s response was immediate and it nearly overtook his better judgment as he swept Anya off her feet and into his arms. His mouth traveled down her neck to nip and tempt as he walked to the bed, then slowly eased her onto it.
A quiet moan from Anya shattered Merivic’s will to break away as she nestled into the mattress, and he found himself stretching out on top of her, his tongue trailing her collar bone. He ran his hands down her sides, grazing the sides of her breasts, and Anya gasped from the brief contact. In that single sound of breathlessness, he felt a power swell within him as he thought of what physical pleasures he could provide for her in their life together—intimate experiences she had not yet had with another. He absolutely loved her innocence and inexperience, and felt proud and empowered that he would be the one guiding her to those discoveries.
But not ton
ight.
He allowed himself a few more moments of pleasure—nestled in the crook of her neck, feeling her pulse hammering under his lips—before he made the valiant effort to break away from the smoldering woman.
Anya scowled and moaned in protest as Merivic eased back and pulled the thick blanket over her scantily-clad body. “Why will you not stay with me?”
“Perhaps it is because the temptation would be too great.” He donned an easy smile before kissing her forehead. “And I would feel better if I were out there on watch myself.”
“I believe your men are more than capable of securing the area without you.”
“As do I, or they would not be a part of my infantry. However, peace of mind goes a long way. And to attain that, I must be among them.”
“Will you stay awhile? At least until I fall asleep?” She snuggled into the blanket and looked up at him with a slight pout and wide emerald eyes.
Merivic chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. “Can I deny you nothing?”
“I would like to see you try,” Anya murmured, playfully, as she tucked her head under his chin, curling into his broad chest.
“That sounds like a challenge, Miss Anya,” Merivic stated lightly, running his fingers through her thick, shiny hair.
“Quite possibly it is, Lord Merivic. Do you think you are up to it?”
He snickered as he drew her closer. “No, honestly I do not think I am. But it may be fun to try.”
Anya giggled as she fisted her hand in his shirt to hold him still, then arched her neck until her mouth met his throat. She worked her tongue over his salty skin, grazing her teeth along the way. “Try to deny me this,” she dared, hoping to provoke the primal urges he had strapped down within.
“Anya, you must not push me so.” His voice was strained as he began to pull away.
“All right, I will stop.” Anya did not want him to leave her, so she mentally vowed to behave…for now. She heaved a heavy sigh.
“Please, do not be frustrated with me. Do you not realize how much I want you? But I fear I will not be able to stop once I start, and I will not have you until we are properly wed.”
“I understand,” she grumbled, her eagerness to explore her inclinations plummeting down to the pit of her stomach.
Merivic issued a husky chuckle. “Soon, my dear, sweet Anya. You must let me build up to it—a tolerance, if you will. For as of now, even the thought of your touch forces me to the edge. It takes all I have not to ravage and plunder, to take what I desire most.”
“With talk like that, you are not doing much for my self-control either.”
“Perhaps I wish you to suffer as I am.”
She giggled at his admission, a tingle prickling her skin. It was nearly just as exciting to know how much he wanted her as to physically feel it for herself. The anticipation of having this man as her own was that strong. “I am sure suffer is an exaggeration.” Although, inwardly, she admitted it was a painfully accurate description—for herself, anyhow.
“You sound as if you could truly doubt me.” He shook his head. “You will see.”
It almost sounded like a warning and a wistful shiver racked her frame. Merivic misinterpreted the cause, and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Anya cuddled in, content to abandon the conversation until another time when he might be more willing to ‘discuss’ it further.
“We should arrive in Silktree tomorrow. And we shall trade up for fresh horses, and procure lodgings for the night.” His arms constricted. “You will have a chance to bathe properly, and sleep in an actual bed. I apologize for these meager accommodations, but I attempted to make them as comfortable as possible for you.”
“This is fine. Really. How long will we stay in…Silktree, was it?” Anya felt a thrill with the idea of visiting a new city, of seeing and exploring someplace different. She had never left Liberwood before, and she was eager to embrace the adventures her new life promised.
“Just the night. Long enough to see to our needs.”
“Could we stay longer?”
“I must regretfully deny you, my love. The open road is not safe for us. The faster we arrive in Decessus, the better it will be.”
His words washed through her before the meaning truly sank in. Even now, as they lay together on this bed, snuggled in each other’s arms, they were in danger. There were men out there to protect them, but still, there was danger. “The threats in your life…they are real. At any moment…” She swallowed the rest of her words, refusing to even entertain the thought of what could be.
“I do not want you to worry, Anya. I have taken every precaution to protect not only myself, but you as well.”
Yes, she pondered, me as well, because I am to be his wife—an integral part of his ascension to the throne. In essence, my presence puts him in position to rule the kingdom. Therefore, my presence puts him in danger, for if I had not agreed to marry Merivic, he would not be able to take the crown, and he would not be a target for the assassins.
It was a daunting thought, full of speculation and doubt. “Why did you not tell me—”
“I would never allow anyone to harm you. I—”
“No. I do not fear for my safety. Why did you not tell me you had to be married to claim the throne?”
His lips pressed into her hair before he answered. “I did not want my situation to be a consideration when you made your choice. This was for you to decide—for your life, not for mine.”
She smiled at his selfless words, and caressed his cheek. She stared long and hard into his soft, hazel eyes, then drew him close to brush her lips against his.
In this moment, he was perfect for her—a gentlemen who thought of her heart above all else, a warrior who thought of her safety above all else, and a man who thought of her virtue above all else.
Anya knew, positively, she would grow to love him indeed. That is, if she was not yet there already.
Chapter 12
The following day was long, but uneventful. Anya spent part of the journey walking and part of it riding a horse, but all of it while keeping a watchful eye on Merivic.
His commanding presence often surprised her for she had grown accustomed to his tender and gentle nature. But as he was directing his men and assessing their surroundings, she found him to be absolutely captivating. Never once did he rest, though he made groups of men do so at regular intervals—switching places with those at rest in the wagons. And never once did he show signs of fatigue, his alert eyes always shifting and his sharp ears tuning into every foreign sound.
Merivic almost appeared to be preternatural in nature, to be so thoroughly focused on so many aspects at once…including her. No matter if she fell behind, switched to a horse, or strode ahead, his eyes honed in on her whenever he felt the need—he was always aware of her exact placement. It was both awe-inspiring and comforting to her.
Near daybreak, they approached the great stone walls of Silktree. Merivic signaled four men to flank Anya as he moved ahead with a contingency of his own to discuss entry with the city’s gatekeepers.
Anya knew their entry would not be a concern. Merivic had already informed her that Silktree was an established ally of Decessus, or more importantly, of Merivic’s. After a brief exchange, the guards opened the gates and waved the caravan forward.
Merivic returned to his station near her, but not with her, as they traveled through the city, using side streets through a lightly populated area. Anya was disappointed, hoping to at least view the grand city as they traversed it to their lodgings. But as it was, all she witnessed were empty halls, empty alleyways, and an occasional homestead—though all occupants remained within.
As they approached the west end of the walled settlement, they came upon a small manor with a uniformed man standing at the door. Merivic strode up with a smile, and clapped the man on the back as he greeted him. Anya was too far away to hear what they were saying, but their jovial expressions showed her they were acquaintances, if not friends.
“I would like you to meet a friend of mine,” he explained, leading her to the expectant man.
“Drak, this is my Anya.” Merivic’s voice was full of pride, flattering Anya beyond what she thought was possible. But it also embarrassed her just a little for she was never comfortable with being the center of attention.
“Such a beauty indeed.” The blond-haired man took her hand and kissed her knuckle, his short beard and mustache scraping against her skin as he did. “You are a lucky man, Merivic.” Drak’s eyes squinted with his genuine smile.
Anya blushed and smiled cordially, averting her gaze.
“You may release her hand now, Drak.” Merivic commented.
“Hmm? Oh, yes!” He dropped her hand at once, and Anya placed it on Merivic’s arm. “My apologies, My Lord. I was stunned for a moment.” He winked at Anya and turned to Merivic. “Silktree Manor is yours to use for however long you wish.”
“We shall only be staying the night. I assume there is a full staff?”
“Of course, and already instructed to do your bidding.”
“Thank you, Drak.” Merivic clasped a hand on his shoulder.
“You are welcome, my friend.” He nodded to them before backing away a step, and turning to take his leave.
Merivic leaned toward Anya. “I do apologize for his conduct. Drak always did manage to forget his manners around a beautiful woman.”
Anya giggled. “Oh, stop. I cannot bear it from you, too.”
He kissed the side of her head. “You will simply have to get used to being named as beautiful, for the day will never arrive when I do not think it every time I glance in your direction.”
Her face warmed again as he led her into the entrance hall where they were greeted by a line of servants.
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