Free Rule (Roam Series, Book Five) by Kimberly Stedronsky Page B

chest.
    “I know.”
    I held the sheet firmly over my breasts, working through my nausea to appreciate his strong arms. The memory of his lips lingering over mine stirred my disjointed thoughts.
    “You were… asking me questions last night… You asked me if I had another motive for being here?” I remembered suddenly.
    He lowered his face and must have seen the hurt in my eyes. “You assured me that you didn’t. I believe you.”
    “What motive could I have? I’ve been happily living my life until about forty-eight hours ago, when you showed up, ruining everything.”
    “Happily living your life?” He held me in one arm, turning the shower faucet on with the other.
    “Well, happily enough.”
    “As you saw last night, any mutiny, no matter how trivial, cannot be tolerated. We don’t believe that the assassin last night was working alone.”
    “Who was he working for then?”
    “My sister.”
    The hot water stream beckoned. I balanced on shaking legs as he set me to the marble floor. “Turn around. I’m not done talking to you, but I’m getting in that water.”
    He turned, allowing me to drop the sheet and back into the lavish shower stall. Once the door was closed securely, I made sure the beige-frosted glass distorted my view of him- and his of me.
    “My sister, Meredith, was abused by my father, and kept as a prisoner in the dungeon for years. Upon my father’s death, I released her, but banished her to a land that specializes in housing the criminally insane.”
    “Like Australia, in the seventeen-hundreds?”
    He nodded at my reference. “Australia was forced to take Britain’s convicts. Shanderlund accepts mentally ill criminals into a rehabilitation system.”
    “Will, are you going to be grossed out if I puke in this shower?”
    He was silent for a moment. Finally, his blurry figure shrugged through the glass. “I have a strong continence.” He repeated my words from last night, and I smirked, thankful that the urge to gag began to dissipate.
    “Can you get my shampoo and conditioner, from my bag? I need the anti-frizz stuff.”
    “Of course.”
    He disappeared for a moment, and then stuck his hand over the top of the shower. He’s so tall. “Thank you,” I called. “Really, thank you. I don’t want those women to see me like this. I value my tough-girl reputation. Go on.”
    He laughed softly, and the sound of his deep voice fortified my confidence. “I believe Eric is quite infatuated with you. Once we are married and you are older, I can arrange for his company discreetly… if you would like.”
    I froze, still working the shampoo through my hair. Did he just offer to pimp me out to his soldier?
    “Repeat yourself.”
    “Pardon?”
    “Did you just offer to hook me up with Eric?”
    “I said if you would like. He’s a sharp-shooter. You have much in common.”
    I watched the last of the shampoo snake down the drain at my toes. Reaching for the conditioner, I fought the urge to open the door and slap my wet hand across the face.
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” I managed tightly, hoping my attempt at flippancy masked the resentment and hurt in my voice.
    “Have I offended you?”
    “Nope. So, mental kingdom. Evil twin sister. Uprising. Go on.”
    He cleared his throat. “Meredith feels that she deserves the throne. She has no intention of ruling peacefully at my side. Gabrielle imposed no threat; she is not of royal lineage, and therefore would hold no stake in the throne if challenged by Meredith. You, however, are daughter of the ancient queen… bringer of the sun. There is no way my people would accept Meredith over you. Especially now.”
    “What does that mean, ‘especially now’?” I scrubbed my body with the bottle of vanilla-scented wash, trying not to gag at the aroma.
    “Your popularity has tripled over night. Those who already welcomed you as princess now long for your rule as queen. Those who were uncertain of your qualifications or intentions were swayed