Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  Sensing the beginnings of surrender in the exhalation of a sigh, his hands shifted me to his side, so my leg was no longer between his. I slid between his body and the sofa back. Before I could scramble into a sitting position, Sorin tilted his weight to the hip next to me, maneuvering so we lay face to face.

  I knew my eyes were wild when they met his. “Why are you doing this?”

  “So you’ll stay.” His hand brushed the hair out of my eyes, each movement so gentle it stole my breath.

  “I won’t.” I pushed against his chest, trying to roll him onto his back and away from me.

  “Did we not just have this conversation?” His expression was incredibly tender.

  “And look where that got us.” Stubbornly, I refused to surrender.

  “Yes. Look where it got us.” Deliberately, his eyes strolled the length of our bodies, lingering on the overlap of our calves and ankles. With this embrace, he disregarded all the barriers I’d worked so hard to establish.

  “I wish you would stop acting as though you own me.” I halfheartedly placed a hand between his chest and mine.

  “Being owned is not so bad once you realize it goes both ways.” The man wouldn’t stop touching me. His finger traced the soft skin beneath my eyes to the hollowness of my cheek all the way down to the stubborn line of my jaw.

  I drew in a shaky breath. “I won’t be owned.”

  “Too late,” he whispered right before he kissed the side of my mouth. Not a full kiss, more a suggestion of one. I jerked my head away. “Stop,” I said again.

  Sensing my refusal, he sighed. “One day, you will stop fighting me.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Not tonight.” He rubbed his thumb over my mouth. “I always look out for you, sweetheart. I cannot help myself.” He sounded annoyed.

  “Then surely you must see that going to my family is in my best interests.” I played my final card.

  “I am merely concerned with how you will reach them.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “But that is an argument for another day.”

  Looking into his eyes, I realized he really did not want to argue with me. All the hurt and anger swirling within me suddenly eased. If he wanted a truce, I would be happy to lay down my weapons for the night.

  My tense muscles relaxed, my head falling onto his folded arm. I tucked the hand I pressed against his chest under my chin, and turned my face into his chest. His knee slipped between both of mine, and he kissed the top of my head.

  He smelled wonderful. His normal almost spicy scent combined with whatever colognes princes wore, to create an intoxicating smell. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in his chest and let the hours pass us by.

  As more and more time passed, a different muscle relaxed until I was boneless against him. Time slowed along with my breathing. It was so warm alongside him that I no longer felt the chill of the library.

  He waited still longer, shifting me back into his arms when he resumed lying on his back. Though I still separated him from the back of the couch, I was half curled on top of him. The lateness of the hour crept upon me and I remembered how tired I was. I yawned.

  My eyes were closed when he half sat up. I would have straightened as well, if he hadn’t soothed me back into a lying position. I caught sight of a book in his hand. “Surely you do not expect me to sleep with you in my arms?” His chuckle was soft.

  “You did quite well on our journey here.” The protest was half hearted at best. I was nearly asleep.

  “Exhaustion being the only match for your beauty.” He rubbed my back. “I am fully rested now.”

  “Mmmm.” I buried my face deeper into the hollow between his shoulder and neck. Sensing that was all he’d get out of me this evening, he opened his book. “I will wake you before dawn. Go to sleep. You are safe with me.”

  “I don’t altogether believe that.” But I yawned again and replaced my head on his chest. Even without his full attention—he resumed reading the book he’d had when I first entered the library—the man was a potent companion.

  His breathing synced with mine, and every now and then, the hand resting on my hip reflexively stroked a small circle against my skin. He didn’t attempt to roll me beneath him, or kiss me and I’ll admit to being somewhat disappointed, but in light of my looming departure, it was for the best.

  Unfortunately, Sorin fell asleep, meaning it was the maid coming to refresh the fire in the grate who woke me. I would like to say I came awake gracefully, but I sat rather abruptly up, nearly knocking Sorin backwards off the narrow couch. Thankfully, he was able to regain his balance by grabbing me.

  The maid scurried out, saving me the embarrassment of attempting to slip past her and out the door.

  I’d seen him newly awakened before, so I wasn’t struck dumb by the attractive way his hair fell forward, or the intriguing stubble now lining each angle of his handsome face, not to mention the added redness in his cheeks or the unfocused blue of his eyes. I allowed myself a quick glance before I poked him in the chest.

  “It’s morning.”

  “Your point?” Sorin closed his eyes again.

  I removed his book from where it wedged between us. When he’d fallen asleep, he had turned onto his side, pinning me against the back of the couch. “I must go.”

  “What is it with you and leaving?” He wanted to know, folding his arms tighter around me and burrowing closer.

  “I need to return to my room.” I propped myself up on an elbow.

  “Why? We’ve already been seen.” He sounded supremely unconcerned.

  “No thanks to you.” I thumped him with the book. He gave me a wounded look.

  “There’s no need for violence. If you want to leave, ask nicely.”

  “Please let me go.”

  “Kiss me and I’ll release you.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I hope you’re comfortable because you’ll be here for the foreseeable future.” His eyes closed, no doubt because he thought I would belabor the point before giving in and kissing him. I probably should argue, for appearance’s sake, but really, I wanted to kiss him. I always wanted to kiss him.

  During the night, I’d managed to scrunch myself downward, my face even with the middle of his chest. To get to where his head rested on top of the couch arm, I would have to drag myself upwards. Our feet still tangled together, but if I carefully moved my left foot down…

  “What are you doing?” The hands at my waist tightened as I inched upward.

  “Kissing you.” That got his attention. His eyes widened, a rather dim blue, as he was nearly half asleep. Another blink and they brightened to sapphire as awareness returned.

  He measured the distance between our mouths and arched an eyebrow. “This isn’t kissing.”

  “I know.” A trace of annoyance crept into my voice.

  “Do you need a hint?”

  “I know how to kiss.”

  “Ah, but you’ve rarely initiated one.” His gaze fastened on my mouth.

  Another moment passed while I finally evened our faces. His eyes were bright blue, their hungry look a bit disconcerting. “I can’t kiss you when you’re looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” Puzzlement crowded the words.

  “As if you are going to leap upon me at any moment and have your wicked way with me.”

  “Oh, like that. You need to be less you if you expect me to stop wanting you.” Again, his eyes focused on my mouth. “Now kiss me.”

  “I will kiss you when I want to, and not a second before,” I said airily, attempting to ignore the way my heart pounded. There was something so exhilarating about arguing with him.

  “Kiss me now, before I decide I don’t want to be kissed at all.” Sorin rolled his eyes at the absurdity of that statement.

  “Why are you being so difficult?” I rubbed beneath his collarbone.

  “Unlike you, I have things to do this morning, and languishing on this sofa is not one of them.”

/>   “So this is what languishing looks like.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. Any inclination to kiss him was fast fading with every word out of his beautiful mouth.

  “The languishing I know involves fewer clothes.” His finger dipped to the lapel of my wrapper.

  “You said you didn’t have time for languishing!”

  “I changed my mind.” When he lifted his head toward mine, I reached for his face.

  Gently, I ran my finger along one of his marvelous cheekbones and down his cheek, enjoying the scrape of stubble. My forefinger slipped beneath his jaw, his muscles contracting as he swallowed.

  Sorin was unnaturally still against me, as if fearing any move would frighten me away. Though his eyes were half closed, the hands at my waist gripped tight. I felt each separate indention of his fingers above my hip.

  Softly, I pressed my lips against his mouth. Instantly, my senses went on high alert, especially the ones connected to my mouth. His body was sleep warmed, as I found when my hands slipped beneath his shirt. Though our mouths were chaste, my hands weren’t.

  One of my fingers found the edge of his ribcage, so I lightly skimmed that area with my nails. His back was strongly muscled, and flexed beneath every brush of my hands. My breath whooshed out as I opened my mouth against his, my tongue tracing the outside of his mouth. He parted his lips when my tongue pressed for entry and allowed another long moment of exploration before swirling his tongue around mine.

  As if an internal timer had gone off, Sorin came alive. With a single, smooth movement, I was swept from my side to my back beneath him. One of his knees pressed between my thighs, drawing the material of my nightgown tight. His arms were rigid beneath my shoulders, one hand reaching to cup the back of my head.

  Our mouths fused together, our breathing synchronized. This passionate intensity is what frightened me. When I kissed Sorin, the world ceased being so bland and instead became a vivid portrait of possibility. I could lose myself in him, in all he told me with each touch, with each glorious kiss. In his arms, there was no such thing as espionage or secrets. There was only he and I.

  And, it appeared, another maid.

  Hearing a startled exclamation, our mouths parted with a sudden pop as Sorin raised his head to look over the back of the couch at whoever entered the library.

  “Is my father looking for me?” His voice was gruff.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” The female voice was tentative.

  “Excellent. Please tell him I will be along shortly.” Sorin looked at the door until it thudded shut. Then he looked down at me, still beneath him. “You, sweetheart, are a distraction with a capital D.” There was a special brilliance in his eyes when he looked at me.

  “I thought I was to kiss you,” I reminded, testing the strength of his grip. His knee kept my legs pinioned and his hand remained behind my head, his thumb running along the shell of my ear.

  “And you did a marvelous job.”

  “But I’d barely begun.” I stuck my lower lip out in a pout. I was in a strangely playful mood. Maybe it was the fact I knew he could not stay and argue the point. When the king demanded one’s presence, one went immediately.

  “Then I look forward to finishing that kiss in the future.” His eyes fastened on my mouth again, on my jutting lower lip.

  “Sorin, you have to go.” I stopped pouting. If he kissed me again, I would forget my name.

  “I know. “ His eyes closed briefly. “Before I go, I will have your promise you will not leave today.”

  I knew this was coming and still it caught me by surprise. “Why not?” His finger across my mouth stilled my lips.

  “I would appreciate a day not spent worrying you will be gone the instant my back is turned.”

  “Is that what you are always thinking about? Ways to detain me?” I teased, enjoying the new ease in our relationship. Something passed between us last night. He accepted I would go, I accepted he would allow me.

  “Partly. The other half of my brain is occupied with ideas to show you rather secluded areas of the palace.”

  I laughed. “I would not be difficult to persuade.”

  “Which is why I shall leave at once.” Sorin stood, and I watched the ripple of his body straightening.

  I sat, deciding I, too, had things to do. Looking up, I noticed Sorin staring at me, an unfathomable emotion in his eyes. “Yes?”

  “There is something I must tell you.” All traces of emotion leeched from his voice.

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Which is?” When he didn’t immediately answer, I prompted, “Is there a problem?”

  “I am uncertain how to say this.”

  “Words would help.” I noticed his hand weren’t quite steady as he played with the hem of his untucked shirt. I wondered what he was doing until it dawned on me he was nervous. The always supremely self assured Sorin North was nervous! Of course, that only made me worry what he had to tell me was horrific.

  “Until last week, your father has been held for questioning outside Sal de Mar.”

  Ah. Sorin’s mystery journey of last week was now explained. The rush of anger inside me forced me to my feet. “I cannot believe—you lied—I don’t understand—“ I broke off as the words tangled. “You told me he was dead.”

  “He might be.”

  I calmed myself. “You said ‘until last week.’ Where is he now?” I waited, unable to breathe for fear of his answer.

  “We don’t know.” I couldn’t tell if he spoke the truth or if this was another lie.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? You don’t just lose a prisoner!” My voice increased in volume. “If you killed him, I will tear you into so many pieces, they’ll never find them all!”

  “Cadrian—”

  I cut him off with a slash of my hand. “This, this is so far beyond anything I expected from you. I do not even know you.” The deadly edge in my voice was unrecognizable.

  “I had to protect you.”

  “No. You had to protect yourself.” I discovered my hands were unsteady so I balled them into fists. I’d never been so angry that my body shook and my knees threatened to buckle.

  He didn’t answer. I continued stomping around the room. Though it was early, I didn’t care. I was furious and it’s time the Norths knew it.

  I turned. A good ten feet separated us. “Why did you lie to me?” It was best to understand the entire situation before murdering him. That way, I could be defended in court during the murder trial.

  “Your father threatened your life. I lied to keep you safe.”

  My mouth dropped open. Then I remembered Sorin was probably lying. “Try again.”

  “It is in your best interests to conduct yourself as if he were dead.” He took two steps toward me but I stopped him with an upraised hand.

  “Unless you wish to die in the next minute, I suggest you tell me exactly where my father is and why I must pretend he’s dead. “ Sixty seconds seemed fair when my fingers wanted to wrap around his neck and squeeze until the feeling of betrayal left my throat.

  “Your father is somewhere in Goran. He escaped shortly after I saw him last week. He left a note informing us if we pursued him, you would die.”

  “Why send a letter asking me to meet him?”

  “That letter is a warning about the consequences if we hunt him down. You were never meant to see it.” He sounded so confident that I felt wrong denying it.

  “No. I was meant to see that letter and go to him because obviously, you and your family are not to be trusted.” I was more thankful than ever I hadn’t told Sorin about the map. “He wants me to leave as quickly as possible.”

  He stepped closer toward me. “You can’t mean to trust the very man who handed you over so easily and has now threatened your life.”

  “Who else can I trust?”

  “Me,” he offered, stepping still closer. The original ten feet dwindled to five.

  “You?” I laughed, a derisive sound. “The man who thinks truth is no
thing more than an inconvenience? Or is it the man who whispers sweet nothings in my ear, hoping I will reveal all I know?”

  His voice flattened. “This has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”

  “I don’t care. I want nothing more to do with you.” I frowned. “I will leave immediately.”

  Pain flashed through his eyes. “It is not safe. Stay.”

  Again, I wondered why it mattered that I stay in the palace. Then it dawned on me. If he couldn’t search for my father, he would have to find a way to bring him to the palace. “You are using me as bait.”

  He sighed. “Your father wants the pendant. You have the pendant. Of course he’ll come, or attempt to lure you to him.”

  Reaching for the decorative knickknack on the table beside me, I calmly turned and threw it at the wall. Then I systematically threw everything on the side table, including the book he’d been reading last night, against the wall.

  Destroying his things didn’t satisfy. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to scrape my fingernails down the length of his cheek, kick him between the legs and shove him face first into the fireplace. I wanted him to hurt, to feel the yawning hole in my soul as I realized nothing with Sorin had ever been real.

  But doing any of those things would reveal how deeply hurt I was at this final betrayal.

  “I want you to leave.”

  “This is my home and I want to stay.” Folding his arms, he settled in for an argument over whether or not he should leave.

  Fine. With firm strides, I made a wide circuit around Sorin, holding his gaze up until the moment I slipped through the door. It was only once I closed it that I began to run.

  Before I’d been hesitant to leave, believing Sorin might actually care for me. Now knowing he was using me as bait for my father, leaving brought only a faint sense of relief and none of the pain I expected. Later, I suppose, when my feelings thawed, I’d cry for all the shards of my heart lying on the floor of the library.

  At least I had a destination and would not be blindly running through the countryside. In the Obtrusive Mountains that separated Goran from Bolien, I would find the Galeon Pass. From there, perhaps, the map would cease being static and take on the characteristics of the land it was meant to portray.