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  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Orestes was suddenly at her side. For such a large man, he moved quickly and almost silently. Astrid gasped and took a step back from him.

  “My feet. They’re too dirty for your nice bed.”

  Annoyance flashed across his expression but at least it wasn’t anger. Astrid realized she was growing comfortable in his presence—a dangerous habit to be sure. Still, when he ran a hand down his face and wariness filled his gaze, she couldn’t help but feel better.

  “I’ll return shortly,” he said, before stalking out of the room.

  She looked at the closed door in indecision. He obviously expected her to stay put and hadn’t threatened her in any way thus far. Should she await his return? Doubts filled her and she shivered as cold from the stone floor raced up her legs. The warm glow of the fire called to her and Astrid went willingly. As she crossed the vast space from his bed to fireplace, she noticed Orestes’s room was much larger than she had realized. Additional large tapestries lined the walls and various furs covered most of the floor.

  His massive bed could easily sleep six people, even with the large man in the middle. That image sent a surge of jealousy racing through her and she shook her head at her ridiculousness. The Masters belonged to no women, especially human women. It was said they left the realm to bed the race of warrior women in Keva when the mood took them. The journey to the neighboring realm went from a ten-day journey to a matter of hours once the gargoyles spread their wings. Astrid shuddered at the thought. She’d only seen a gargoyle in flight once and it had been an awesome sight. It still amazed her how their wings disappeared when they took human form.

  Aside from his bed, the only other furniture in the room was a wardrobe and desk. There was also a large chest at the foot of his bed, big enough for a human to fit inside. Astrid frowned and looked away from it. Her eyes landed on a desk piled high with books. She’d heard a servant mention a library somewhere in the castle. Astrid had taught herself to read simple words over the years and longed to own just one book. She’d secretly hoped she would be assigned to dust the library so she could at least look at them. Faced with the bounty on Orestes’s desk, she couldn’t help but wander over and stare in fascination at the stack. It reached her chin and hid, a closer inspection revealed, a similar stack behind it. She reached a shaky hand to touch the top book when Orestes’s voice sounded in her ear.

  “You know how to read?”

  She screamed and leapt away, hitting her hip against the desk hard enough to send both stacks of books tumbling down.

  “Oh no.”

  Astrid was nearly in tears over the mess she’d made and threw herself on the floor, grabbing books and stacking them as quickly as she could in an effort to clean the mess. She felt more than heard Orestes bend down beside her, but rather than help, he gently grabbed her wrists.

  “Stop, lady. Don’t fret over this.”

  Her head snapped up and she tried to pull from his grasp. He released her and she moved back, falling on her bottom in her effort to get out of his reach.

  “I’m sorry, my lord. I’m so sorry.”

  “Please, just stop.” He released a breath and swiped the books out of his way, crawling toward her while she continued to slide back. She reached the wall and shut her eyes, throwing her arms over her head.

  “No. Don’t do that again. How can I convince you that I mean you no harm?”

  The exasperation in his voice finally penetrated her fear and Astrid lowered her arms slowly. He was sitting back on his legs, a whisper away, staring down at her with concern. When he realized she was watching, he reached out and gently moved her arms down.

  “What is your name?”

  She swallowed her fear and answered in a whisper, “Astrid.”

  His eyebrows shot up and a sudden grin made him even more handsome. “Astrid? How about that? Tell me, my little star, how did you come to be in my home?”

  She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. What should she tell him about the hardships of her life? Would he really care? He frowned at her hesitation before sighing and leaning back. She closed her still-gaping mouth while he stood and reached for her.

  “Come. I’ve arranged a bath for you.”

  That got her attention. “Bath?”

  Obviously sensing her excitement, he smiled and led her from his room. “Yes, a warm bath. Then I’ll put a healing ointment on that wound. No sense doing that until you’re clean.”

  Shame filled her as she considered how she looked. Whispers about Keva told of large, beautiful women with fair skin and golden hair. Astrid knew she was a plain, little, mousy-looking thing. Small and insignificant. She’d never expected to catch the eye of a man, much less a Master. Orestes must think she was a mess, smelly and dirty. A bath would take care of the worst of her appearance, though she couldn’t help the scars and her stature. With a sigh of resignation, she went willingly through a door across the hall from his room.

  Chapter Two

  Astrid gasped when they stepped into the bathing room, and Orestes looked down to gauge her reaction. Awe shined from her eyes as she took in the large pool, steam billowing off the clear water. He hid his grin, but satisfaction filled him at her response. Her small, fragile frame intrigued him. He’d never been interested in a human woman before because they looked so weak. However, something about Astrid called to him and he couldn’t dismiss her so easily.

  He was wary of frightening her again and had no clue how she would react to his bathing her. However, he had no intention of leaving her alone to tend to her own bath. The poor thing was exhausted, swaying on her feet. She’d had a rough evening and he feared her falling asleep in the water. He didn’t know if she could swim and the water reached his chest. The top of her head barely hit the same spot. He smiled at the direction of his thoughts while he tried to justify his decision to stay. He was confident she wouldn’t argue if he simply didn’t leave.

  Testing that theory, he led her to a marble bench and sat down. She watched silently while he removed his boots and socks, then he stood and removed the holster he wore like a vest. He unbuckled the second holster around his waist and laid his weapons on the bench, showing her more trust than he gave even his brothers. He doubted she would realize the significance of his removing all weapons in her presence, and tried not to consider why he was even doing it. Her eyes widened when he pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor, but she still said nothing. He loosened the ties on his pants before looking up into her curious gaze.

  “Are you going to bathe in your dress?”

  Her eyes widened further and she looked down at the rag hiding her body from his starving eyes. “Oh. Uh…”

  He flashed a reassuring smile before stepping to the side of the pool and removing his pants. Without looking back to see her reaction to his nakedness, he dove head first into the warm water. By the time he surfaced, she had joined him, her dress in a puddle beside his pants. Disappointment flittered through him at missing her initial unveiling. He wanted to know if the scars he’d spied on her back were on other parts of her body as well. She had removed the feeble tie from her hair and a riot of curls framed her pale face.

  He stood and walked over to where she clung to the wall. As he’d suspected, her feet couldn’t touch the floor if she wanted her head to stay above water. Moving slowly, so as not to frighten her again, he took her by the arms and pulled her against his chest. She gasped and blushed prettily, lowering her eyes to where her hands now rested on him.

  “M-Master?”

  “Orestes, sweet Astrid. You needn’t call me Master.”

  Amazingly, her blush deepened while she nodded in agreement. “Orestes, what…uh, what are we doing here?”

  He smiled at her but she still wouldn’t look up. He sighed and turned toward one end of the pool.

  “We’re bathing, little star.”

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t say anything else when he p
ulled her to the small waterfall streaming over a manmade cliff. Her head turned from side to side as if she was trying to see everything at once. Orestes looked around at the room he’d taken for granted for years. Human houses tended to have bathing rooms as well, though none as large or opulent as this. The Masters had constructed their home on their own, planning and arranging each room with care and consideration. The castle boasted eighteen bedrooms, four bathing chambers, a massive kitchen, a large dining room and the biggest library in the kingdom. Not even the king owned so many books and scrolls as the brothers. Orestes had never been proud of that fact until he had seen the fascination on Astrid’s face while she gazed longingly at his books.

  He set her down so her bottom rested on an outcropping. That put the waterline just below her neck and he couldn’t help a sigh of disappointment. Though he could see through the crystal clear water, he ached to get a full view of her small, round breasts. They would barely be a handful but he bet the light brown nipples would be sweet as honey. She seemed to finally notice the direction of his gaze and slowly raised her arms to cross them over her bosom. He looked up into her large brown eyes and was surprised to see confusion there.

  “M—uh…Orestes, did you want me to bathe you?” she asked.

  He nearly laughed but settled for wrinkling his brow and shaking his head. “No, sweetness. I shall bathe you.”

  Her pretty mouth dropped open but no words emerged. Rather than wait for her permission or her anger, he reached for a tray of soaps on a nearby ledge. Most were masculine scents for him and his brothers, but there was a glass vial with a swirling pink concoction he hadn’t ever used. He pulled the stopper and sniffed, instantly pleased with the scent.

  Astrid closed her mouth and remained silent while he poured a few drops onto the palm of one hand. Then he motioned to the waterfall with his chin.

  “Lean over and wet your hair. I’ll wash it first.”

  She glanced at the waterfall then back at him. With only a small hesitation, she dropped her arms to grab his shoulder so she could do as instructed. He remained stock still while her small hand gripped his skin. It nearly burned where her slender fingers held him. Arousal instantly shot through him from that innocuous spot to his groin. He was hard and ready in an instant and prayed she wouldn’t notice, lest it frighten her. He wanted her without a doubt, but he would cut off his own arm rather than scare her away.

  “Enough?” she asked.

  Her light voice brought him out of his lustful thoughts and he looked to see her mass of curly hair plastered to her head. It was an amusing sight but he sensed laughing would embarrass her. Instead he merely smiled and tilted her chin up with one hand.

  “Yes, that’s good. Hold your head up so the soap doesn’t run into your eyes.”

  She obeyed and shut her eyes tightly. It was another comical look but he again fought his humor. He rubbed the soap between his palms before smoothing it over her head as gently as possible. Then he eased his fingers through the tangled strands. It wasn’t an easy task. He didn’t want to hurt her but her hair appeared to not have been brushed properly for days. Luckily the soap he had chosen had a soothing property and within a few minutes, his fingers were easing between the strands unhindered.

  As soon as he was satisfied that her hair was completely covered and the tangles smoothed, he cupped the back of her neck with one hand and her shoulder with the other. He eased her beneath the waterfall and rinsed the soap from her hair.

  “There, now. Isn’t that better?”

  She wiped her eyes before opening them. He was again struck by the innocence in her gaze. It was quickly replaced by wonder when she ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Oh! It’s so smooth and soft. What by the Goddess did you use? It’s a miracle…or magic.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Neither miracle nor magic. Just a good soap crafted by a villager. Of course, it is possible she’s a witch. One never does know these days.”

  She stared at him a moment as if to gauge his seriousness and he let out a laugh. “I’m joking, Astrid. No magic at all. I promise.”

  She wrapped her arms across her breasts again and his amusement died. With a sigh, he grabbed another soap for her body.

  Astrid was humiliated beyond all reason when Orestes bade her to stand on her perch. She nearly refused, but the look of determination on his face kept her mute. Why did he want to see her body, anyway? It was hideous, covered in scars and bruises. She was ashamed of the indentations from her ribs, which were clearly visible to his eyes. She slowly turned her back when he said and kept her arms over her breasts. He hadn’t ordered her to drop them so she held onto what cover she could. The hair between her legs was uncovered but there was nothing she could do about that. And why would he care anyway? She knew she was nothing in comparison to most of the women in the village, much less the women of Keva.

  “Astrid, you have not worked here long enough to earn so many scars from Simon.”

  The anger in his voice wasn’t surprising. It seemed the Masters were always angry over something. Since he hadn’t asked a direct question, she kept her mouth shut.

  His large hands landed softly on her shoulders, making her jump and drop her arms despite the gentle touch.

  “Calm yourself,” he murmured. “I’ve sworn not to hurt you. Remember?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Now that I know of Simon’s treachery, I understand your fear. But I swear there is no reason for it.”

  She tightened her lips while his hands smoothed down her arms to her wrists, then back up in a single glide. He slipped them between her arms and breasts. Before she could react they were gone again, gliding down her ribs to her hips. He ran them over her bottom and then back up her back. He soaped her nape before dropping his hands to her bottom again. Then he moved them below the water to her legs. By the time he reached her ankles, she was nearly breathless.

  “Turn around.”

  Surely he didn’t mean to give the same treatment to her front?

  She did as he said. There really was no choice. Whether she liked it or not, he was her Master, and she knew better than to disregard anything he said.

  Her position on the shelf put her one head above him but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. His perusal was like a physical caress when he glanced over her ruined body. Heat filled her cheeks the longer he looked, until she was certain her face would catch fire.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of. I find you quite beautiful.”

  That immediately had her gaze snapping to his and irrational anger filling her gut. How dare he mock her so?

  “Oh, aye. Beautiful as a crumbling statue of the great and hideous Medusa, perhaps.”

  The bastard grinned and shook his head. “Of course not. I find beauty in the strength it obviously took to endure this abuse.” His grin faded along with her anger. “I speak truly, Astrid. I find you very lovely indeed.”

  “Oh…”

  As if that was his cue, he took the vial of soap between his hands again for another dose. Then he treated the front of her body to the same sensual assault as the back. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on a spot on the far wall, trying in vain to ignore the feelings his touch ignited. However, she couldn’t help flinching the first time his rough hands passed over her erect nipples. She gasped and nearly moved away but he grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

  Without a word, he palmed her breasts and squeezed lightly. Her pulse sped up and her breathing became labored. How could such a simple touch affect her so? She’d been with men before. Two to be exact. But now that she thought back on those wholly unremarkable experiences, she knew their hurried groping in the dark was nothing like this simple touch. Orestes was akin to the most skilled sorcerer conjuring magic from her weakened body. She wanted to fall at his feet and beg for more but feared to even speak.

  Then his hands slipped down to her flat stomach and she could breathe again. She ignored the disappointment singin
g in her veins and tried to remain still as his touch tickled her navel. Nervousness flittered through her when his fingers neared her lower curls. But what could she do? She didn’t have the strength to stop him or the will to move away from his touch. So instead she shut her eyes tightly and prayed to the Goddess he would finish quickly.

  Was she innocent then? Orestes honestly couldn’t tell from the play of emotions crossing her lovely face. He knew there was one sure way to tell, but feared she would either scream or claw his eyes out if he attempted it. No, for now he would touch only the surface of her body. Anything else would have to wait until he had earned at least a little more of her trust.

  He skimmed his fingers through the bushy hair at the apex of her legs. It was an odd sensation. He was used to the smooth mons of the Keva. They kept their bodies hairless with oils found only in their tropical home. He vaguely wondered if he could attain some of those oils for Astrid’s skin. Would she even allow him to apply them? He didn’t mind the hair so much. It was just different. With soapy fingers, he delved into the curls and ignored her gasp. She began to tremble when he gently cupped her sex and flexed his fingers.

  He soaped her well, causing her to widen her stance. She grasped his shoulders for balance and he kept his gaze firmly on his hand lest he frighten her. If the hunger slowly building in his body showed even slightly on his face, she would be frightened for sure. Luckily the water hit him just above where his erection already stood proudly from his body. Had she noticed? The temptation to look at her face was strong but he fought it. For now, he would satisfy himself with this simple touch and cleanse her.

  He hadn’t delved as deeply when her back was turned. He did so now, keeping one hand on her sex while wrapping his other arm around to the back. She gasped again and her grip on his shoulders tightened, but she didn’t cry out or pull away. He took that as permission to gently explore her secrets. One hand slipped between her nether lips while the other dipped between her cheeks. They met in the middle at her most sensitive flesh and he massaged her slowly with two fingers. Her breathing stuttered before speeding up and her grip tightened further until her short nails bit into his flesh. His cock was so hard he feared he might come just from touching her this way.