Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance

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Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance Page 66

by Courtney Clein


  “He is your target… before you walk away from this, do know that we have information that no other does regarding him. It will be an easy task for you with our aid… and you will be paid most handsomely for it as well. There is more than enough gold to spare. You could end up in a castle of your own with it.” It seemed she would be the one with enough calm to discuss details, despite that Jeffrey had planned on doing all of the talking himself.

  Xavier had leaned back a bit on his stool, eyes on her, his gaze critical. He hadn’t gotten up to leave yet, though. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She found herself admiring him as she waited for his response, gaze lingering on his face and traveling down his body. He was attractive. Far more so than her husband. It was a shocking experience for her, being so close to a man that she actually found appealing.

  She truly couldn’t help the awful thoughts that sprung up in the back of her mind, distracting her from their purpose there.

  “What sort of information do you have that would make it easier than it seems? Slaying kings is a task not lightly done.” His voice broke through her idle thoughts and she blinked, delighted that he still wasn’t saying no. He didn’t include Jeffrey in that statement at all, his eyes were entirely focused on her as if somehow he knew she was the driving force behind it all. It had her heart pounding out even as her chin lifted and she leaned back herself, looking a little more comfortable with being there now that she’d made herself a player.

  “I know everything from his first thought in the morning to where he goes in the afternoons to what he eats for supper. All things that would aid you in your task, yes?” Eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze locked with his… a challenge in them. “But of course, if it is too difficult a task for you, surely there is another man more capable of this thing…”

  “Very useful things to know, and no. You’ll be finding none around here with the manhood to do something so drastic. I’m the most capable, you did right coming to me with this. A weaker man might’ve pissed himself at the idea.”

  “Then you’ll accept our offer?” Jeffrey’s voice finally piped in, but the assassin didn’t look at him when he answered. His eyes remained on hers as he nodded.

  “Keep to your word about my payment and I’ve no problem with what you’re askin’ of me. Hell, nobody will know who did it…”

  “Boastful,” she muttered to herself with some amusement.

  “I’m good at what I do, evidenced by the fact I’m sittin’ here this moment. Nobody ever knows it was me… and nobody ever knows I was ever there. Now you tell me when and where and I will decide how.”

  Glancing over at Jeffrey, she eyed him thoughtfully. “When he arrives from his hunting trip, do you think? Or should we give it a bit of time?”

  “Why not the feast he was so very excited about…” The answer she received was cautiously musing, almost as though he didn’t want to make a suggestion at all.

  “Oh, yes. That would be ironic, would it not? He would be so delighted… and then he would die.” She liked that thought quite a bit. Harold would be jolly and stuffing himself with whatever wild thing he had managed to ensnare. He was so very dense and unsuspecting that she doubted he would ever even think that something awful might happen at a table of the three of them.

  It was so very morbid a thought, but she wanted to see it when he died. She wanted to see the life leave him and be assured that he would not come back for her.

  “And when is it? This feast of yours?” Xavier asked. That question had her blinking at him and shaking her head just slightly.

  “Whenever he returns… It may be tomorrow… or the next day? But it will be a feast and I know precisely what room it will be and how you might steal into the castle.” Her own eyes glittered when she spoke. She could just imagine him, a dark silhouette creeping through the garden she frequented and sneaking through the dim hallways to their dining hall.

  Eyes narrowing almost playfully, Xavier tipped his head just slightly and met her gaze, “and how is it you’ll be lettin’ me in your gate, m’lady?”

  A blush colored her cheeks, getting her to draw her hood forwards to cover her face more. “I would… unlock it for you. Of course, sir. It would be fairly easy to find your way… inside.” He had to have known the double meaning behind his words, it was the only reason her response would have gotten his dark eyes to twinkle like they did.

  “Right, then it looks like we’ve a deal. You send me word when our noble king returns from his trip. I’ll be stayin’ here.” Then he simply stood up, gave her a wink, and walked off towards the entrance.

  She had never once met a man quite like him. There was nobody she could remember in her life that had such an unearthly, rugged sort of charm. Xavier was positively awful… and she had loved it. That particular shade of green that his eyes were… she felt it would haunt her dreams with the daring twinkle they had.

  “Well… he was positively awful, but what can one expect in a low den of debauchery such as this…” Jeffrey’s voice had her focusing on him once again, remembering that he was there.

  “Positively,” her agreement was a murmur. He had been awful, but in the best way. She only wished she would see him again. “If that is all of our business here, I would like to go home now Jeffrey.”

  He nodded and rose from his chair, waiting for her to stand as well as he spoke, “Now that I have secured our assassin, it is best we leave yes…”

  Typical. It was just like a brother of Harold’s to take the credit for what she had done. There truly was more resemblance in their attitudes than she had first thought. “Undoubtedly,” she responded and made for the door. Though, the place didn’t unnerve her any longer. Honestly she would have found it interesting to stay. So many intriguing people came and went, she was sure that there were twelve different nationalities all in the one room. Shades of skin that ranged everywhere from dark to light and accents to accompany the interesting strange men.

  Some of the girls there were gorgeous and exotic themselves, caramel skinned and amber eyed. She could see the appeal they had, the spell they cast over men.

  Jeffrey had to drag her out of the door, but once he had the chill of rain against her face brought her to her senses. “Home, then, is it?” Her question was quiet.

  “I cannot imagine any place else to go in rain such as this… we will have servants deliver the horses back to the stables.”

  That was perhaps the best idea he’d had the whole day.

  Chapter 4

  Somehow, on her way back to her chambers, she’d gathered a handful of her servants that were fluttering around her, yapping about soaked clothes and how she would be ill if they didn’t draw her a bath soon. Honestly, a bath would be wonderful, she was so giddy from excitement it was hard to contain herself, hard to think straight and keep her composure. So, she let them fuss at her. She felt hands push her onwards, guiding her and stripping layers of sodden material from her body. Instead of fighting off the frigid dampness, she found herself stepping into hot water and sinking into the heat of it gratefully, every thought fleeing her mind.

  Well, every thought except of course for those revolving around him.

  She couldn’t help herself. The very fact that she knew next to nothing about him only added to his appeal. Her fingertips played against the curving edge of the tub distractedly as she thought over their clandestine meeting, looking at her fingers but not really seeing them. Her thoughts were a million miles away. Could he really do it? Could he free her? Just the thought that he could had her heartbeat shivering in her chest, her teeth catching at her lip and pinching until the slight pain of it interrupted the smile that was threatening to plaster itself to her features permanently.

  He had been such a braggart. His self-confidence made her want to snort derisively, something that anyone would deem inappropriate for a lady of her standing. How foolish was it really, pinning all her hopes on yet another man? Weren’t they all simpletons? If she had learned anything over t
he course of her marriage, it was that. The problem was he hadn’t seemed simple, far from it. He’d seemed far too intelligent. As though he’d seen right through her guise before she’d even spoken a single word.

  Her hand fell from the side of the tub, fingers plinking into the water as her palm tilted and slid into it silently and then she shifted, a sigh escaping her. Head tilting against the back of the tub, she stretched out a little to get a little more comfortable.

  Xavier had given off the impression he knew a lot about women, what with the comment he’d surprised her with. Did he though, or would he be as inelegant in intercourse as her husband and Jeffrey had been? What would it take to find out the answer to such a forbidden question? Enticing Jeffrey had been so simple, the moment her mind had turned to attracting him it had happened. Would she catch the assassin’s eye so easily? Or would he be impervious to her charms? Was it even something she dared to attempt?

  The risk was substantial.

  Her fingertips brushed ever so lightly against her own skin, following the soft curve of her own side and traipsing against the crest of her hip bone. Would his touch be rough? Rougher than her own hands for certain. Her own fingers had never known true labor, but a man such as him would have had to work for a living. “Hmmn…” The murmur was soft, as aimless as her idle touches.

  His eyes were what had caught her, though. She could recall the hue of them perfectly, the way his lashes shaded them and hid the green that they truly were. A finger slid along her thigh and her leg moved gently, bending and resting against the wall of the deep tub as her fingers wandered. What did he look like without his clothes on? She felt certain he possessed muscles that neither her husband nor his brother had. Was his hair the same ruddy color everywhere on his body? More importantly, if anything did happen between them would she find herself experiencing that same euphoric high she’d felt with Jeffrey? She’d only ever felt that kind of pleasure with her own touch, and even then not to that intensity. Like a fleeting shadow, a tantalizing bit of what pleasure could be. It had felt like an accident, like the both of them had been fumbling at each other and it had inadvertently felt good. Xavier spent time at that… place… though, with all those women. Surely he would have gathered a thing or two that would make it seem more purposeful.

  She hadn’t even been able to see Jeffrey in the darkness, only feel him. But her thoughts didn’t run that way with the assassin, she didn’t want to have the darkness hide his face or his body from her.

  She wanted to see his eyes.

  She could only imagine the intensity of having him see her, watch her, notice her and admire her. Just with the way he’d looked at her while they’d been conversing, her husband had never looked at her like that. Had never truly acknowledged her in that profound of a way, that way that had made her insides clench from the moment she’d locked eyes with him.

  Fingers dipping between her legs she drew them against herself softly, a breath falling light from her lips. It was easy to imagine that he would know what he was doing… that he would make her feel all of those pleasurable things she wanted to feel. She swore she could feel those rough hands in her hair, sifting through the silken strands of it. Her head turned just slightly, just to get that gentled tug to pull at her scalp from caught strands. The pleasurable tingles that answered the slight movement rained against her senses in a way that had her eyes closing. When she’d settled into the tub she thought she’d lifted all her hair free of it but as her head moved to rest against the back of the tub more she felt it catch again.

  It had her head tilting so her chin lifted away from the water, back arching a little, and she swore the weight of it pulled at her head just like hands gathering it up. The feeling relaxed every muscle in her body, the stress of the day forgotten in the misplaced clarity of it. She couldn’t help the appreciative noise that escaped her lips, the sound of it wholly wistful.

  “You highborn ladies with your soft hair, knew it’d be smooth even when it was all hidden under your hood.”

  Her eyes flashed open, shock visible in the startled crystalline blue of them. A scandalized gasp followed his statement, but she didn’t flinch up or cringe away from his touch. The shock had her spellbound, disbelief warring with logic. She couldn’t comprehend what she’d heard, what it even meant, it was so outside her expectation. Her usual reality.

  “Shhhh, now don’t stop on account of me.”

  Mortification caught at her cheeks, taking the slight paleness from her surprise and replacing it with the warm heat of a blush. It played over her skin as though the heat from the bathwater had enveloped her face all at once and was making it difficult to breathe. Outrage followed it, fear not even getting a chance to take hold in her thoughts as she reacted finally, breaking past her own confusion.

  “How dare you?!” Her outburst was coupled with an attempt to sit up, not to get away from his touches per se, but to regain her dignity. To regain her control of the situation and turn so she could level a glare at him.

  When her head moved forward she felt it, the quick tightening of her hair as it tangled up around his fingers. It wasn’t really apparent whether or not he’d fisted up a handful of it or he’d been holding it tightly the entire time, but it kept her right where she was. He was strong, even with such a simple grip she felt suddenly powerless. It was a feeling she’d never felt in this way before, it thrilled her as much as it terrified her.

  He leaned in close even as her fingers reached for the sides of the tub, his grip dragging her head back a little before she felt his words tickle at her ear, “You’ve a little minx in you don’t you? I saw ‘er in your eyes there. Don’t you go drawin’ attention though… that’d put a chamber pot right there in your devious little plan.”

  “Yours too I’d think… no job, no payment?”

  “Oh, there are plenty of people out there whining about somebody or other needin’ to be dead fast. I don’t need all your gold… I just want it, lucky for you.”

  “Why are you here?” It was finally sinking in that he was there and that the servants had all left and there was no one else in the room they were in. For once she had no idea what his motivation was, when every other man she’d ever met had been counted as predictable. It made her nervous…

  “Had to prove myself to m’lady, didn’t I? You give off the impression you think everyone’s incapable of everything. Sound about right?”

  She felt incredulous at hearing his response. Out of everything she’d expected to hear, that hadn’t been one of them. Her eyes widened up and her fingers curled a little against the sides of the tub as she mulled over his words. No man had ever proven himself to her, had even cared to attempt such a thing. Had even cared what she thought or admired or desired. How had he even known what she wanted, what she was thinking? She hadn’t said it aloud. She’d kept her opinions about his boisterous claims to herself mostly. Everyone else was oblivious to her snide remarks and sarcastic inflections, a bit of fake enthusiasm and innocence and they suspected nothing.

  “Why?” The single word that escaped her held all manner of questioning in it.

  “Why, what?” He responded, even as he loosened his hold in her hair and moved a little more into her view, tousled hair, dark eyes and all. “Why do you give off that impression, or why did I have to prove myself? One might be a bit more… offensive… to answer than the other.” A grin flashed across his face.

  “Why do you care what I think?”

  How it could possibly be offensive she didn’t know, couldn’t fathom. She was so flustered it was refreshing. She had absolutely no idea how to respond to him, couldn’t even think of what to say or how to act to give off the right impression and save face. She’d never felt so confused by a man in all her life.

  “Can’t stand to have a pretty woman thinking I can’t do what I say, and there are many things I can do you wouldn’t believe. If I’m lucky I’ll have to prove some more of them?” There was that gleam in his eyes, the one that sai
d he knew things that’d make her squirm.

  God help her she wanted to know what they were, she wanted to encourage him, even if that wasn’t the wisest thing to do. He was dangerous, the fact that he was even there should have had her fainting in the bathwater like some delicate flower, or struggling to cover herself, but she wasn’t. She was conversing with him casually as though she was used to such random happenstances. Her cover was blown apart, he was seeing who she really was, and every response she’d given him had been genuine and fresh. She found herself turning more to stare at him and the invitation in her eyes was not fake. It was not employed to trick him, it was desperate, a wide eyed sort of potent need that she’d be distraught if he ignored.

  It would upset her, the missed opportunity.

  “You will kill him for me?”

  It was a question, it was a statement, and it was a demand all at once. A fervent sort of imploring plea. She was putting her hope in him, believing in him, even not knowing him. She had intended to manipulate him so that he’d carry the deed out for her without even realizing how much it would mean to her. But now? Now she wanted him to know, she didn’t mind if her soul was bared and he saw her desire for what it was. Saw the ugly intensity of her hatred and how determined she was to escape her situation. The question could have been worded differently, as it was the ‘will’ in it held an unspoken question. It held a ‘can you’ that expressed her fear. Her doubt in his abilities, the strength of his motivation for even doing what he’d promised to do.

  His eyes narrowed a little, though they met her stare evenly. Surprisingly so. He didn’t seem shocked at her question, that she was capable of wanting someone dead. “I’d be willing to bet you could do it perfectly well yourself… but I do plan on killin’ the poor bastard for you.”

 

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