Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (20 page)

“You shouldn’t try to make your friends jealous.”

Anna glares at Marcus. “We did not mean to.”

“Tell you what—if you each bring someone with you to training tomorrow, I will reward the four of you with a private session, but only if Arland will excuse you from your other duties,” I say, meeting Arland’s eyes as he returns to the table.

He nods.

Marcus and Anna dart from us to a group of children. They talk amongst themselves, and, every now and then, look in our direction. After some quiet debating, a couple of children smile widely at me. From their elated expressions, I know which two I’ll be training first.

“You have a way with children, as well as the horses.” Arland looks at me with what I think may be admiration.

Something tells me he has a harder time relating to them than the adults. He had to grow up fast; children may not make sense to him. “I love them. On our farm, I worked with kids in the summertime. I would give riding lessons. It was really win-win for me. Not only did I get to spend time with the children and the horses, but I got paid for it, too,” I say, smiling to myself. All those wonderful summer days, riding through the pastures with little kids who were almost too excited to pay attention, make up some of my fondest memories.

“I bet you would have done it even if you were not getting paid.” Arland shakes his head.

Somehow, he knows that about me; I absolutely would work with children without getting paid, but Gary would never allow that. “This is a business. We are not giving out any freebies,” he used to say with a stern voice when I’d ask to take on a couple kids whose families couldn’t afford what he charged.

I’ve been yawning all throughout dinner. I’m more than done for the day.

“Tired?” Arland asks, standing to hold my chair out for me.

“Extremely.” I yawn again.

We make our way into
our
room after the dinner rush. Luckily, the dining area is empty, so no one watches us go in together.

“Turn around,” I say, then tear off my dirty shirt and pants. I look down at myself and realize I, too, am filthy. “I can’t go to bed like this; I’m disgusting.”

Arland turns back to face me, but quickly returns his gaze to the wall. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Can you hand me my towel from the chair? I’m going to take a bath.”

Without looking in my direction, Arland picks up the towel, then hands it to me. Our fingers brush; his skin warms mine.

“Would you like to join me?”

“That would definitely not be appropriate,” Arland says, as though he’s not entirely sure he means no.

“We can keep our underclothes on. Please?”

I dress, then stand next to him. He clasps his hands behind his back and looks at me with one eyebrow raised. I can tell part of Arland wants to come with me, but the decision is tearing him up inside.

What’s gotten into me?

His reaction makes me regret confusing him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Will you please wait outside the door for me?”

“Kate, did you not mention earlier how you feel the others look at you differently?” Arland asks. His eyes burn into me, making my heart pick up its pace.

“Yes, but—”

“Do you understand, if we go into the washroom together, the others will not only look at you differently, but also think more about us than what is truth? Quite a few of them already suspect more than what has happened.”

“People will believe whatever they want, no matter what the truth is; why should we let that bother us? You and I know what’s happened, or not happened, between us, and we’re all that matter,” I say, hoping to make him feel better—even though I know in my heart it won’t.

What is it that’s happening between us? We’ve shared a bed, trained to fight, cleaned a few stalls, but all of a sudden, I feel it might mean something more. It’s as though the relationship we had in those dreams is coming into fruition, but how can that be? A few days ago, I hadn’t kissed anyone, never had a boyfriend. Now I’ve kissed one guy, and am hopefully becoming closer than I’ve ever been to a relationship with another man.

The difference between Brad and Arland is, with Brad, I never thought this way about him, didn’t accept he had feelings for me. My heart hasn’t rushed for Brad the way it does in this moment, while I stand next to Arland and await an answer that might say he feels the same. Before crossing into this world, I thought something was changing between Brad and me. But growing close to him didn’t have the same excitement as growing close to Arland does. Brad was familiar, friendly, and comforting, but if what we had was anything more, I don’t recognize the feeling.

“Flanna is going to give me hell.” Arland grabs a towel out of the top drawer of the old oak dresser.

“You don’t have to come,” I say, desperately hoping he still does.

“You are attempting to make me feel less guilty, but if you wish for me to join you, I will.” He shakes his head.

I check on Brad before going to the washroom. Kegan looks excited when the door swings open, but then he sees me and frowns. His eyelids are heavy, and he stretches his arms above his head; I hope Shay will replace him soon.

“There has not been any change,” he says.

“Thank you.” I close the door.

The washroom is empty. Arland slides the lock across the door, so no one—Flanna—can
accidentally
come in. Arland turns his head while I slip out of my clothes again, then he takes off his. We leave on only our undergarments.

Climbing in first, he holds his hand out for me while I step in. The water is still the same perfect temperature it was when I bathed yesterday. We submerge ourselves to wash off the dirt.

Our bath together doesn’t feel wrong or rushed. I find it comparable to sitting in a hot tub with someone; I’m enjoying myself. I cannot help but stare at Arland’s flawless figure sitting across from me. He leans against the edge of the enclosure, keeping his distance.

Arland is well built for battle. He’s much taller than I am—about six-foot-two—has broad shoulders, well-defined muscles on his arms and abdomen. His slightly wavy, dark brown hair hangs straight past his ears, and is dripping wet. Even in the dimly lit room, I can tell he’s blushing. I must be staring at him with too much intensity.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful
you
are?” I ask.

“Only my mother, when I was a child,” Arland says, looking down at the water.

Moving to his side of the enclosure, I sit next to him. “Well, now I have, too.”

Arland puts his arm around my shoulders, eases my head onto his chest, then caresses my back with the tips of his fingers. His heart thuds rapidly.

I’m making
him
nervous. The thought makes me smile.

We do nothing but lie here in silence, until our skin prunes from staying in the water too long. I take the bar of soap from next to the enclosure and run it all over my body. Passing the bar to Arland, I fumble it in my hands.

He laughs.

The closeness we share is simple and pure. I don’t want Arland to feel as though he’s taking advantage of my vulnerability, like he said yesterday; although, I might be taking advantage of him. If Arland only knew the details of the intimacies we share in my dreams, how close we have been, or how close I want us to be … .

After we finish washing, Arland steps from the bath, then holds my hand while I walk down the stairs behind him. We face away from each other, take off our wet undergarments, then replace them with our nightclothes. We sneak through the empty hall to our room.

Arland lies in bed first and holds the blankets up for me. He doesn’t even glance at the chair he tried to sleep in yesterday. I climb in next to him, and he wraps the covers over us.

“I will not leave you tonight,” Arland says, his voice soft.

“Where did you go last night?” He never did explain to me where he had been, not that he had to.

“I checked in on the Watchers.”

“The Watchers are the night soldiers? The ones who guard the perimeter and shoot at stray daemons?”

He wears a crooked smile. “Yes, and I have put Keith on duty again for tonight. They will come for me only if there is a problem, and I will awaken you if anything requires me to leave.” Arland pushes a strand of hair from my face, sending heat rushing to where our skin meets.

I suck in a sharp breath. “Keeping you from your work is not my intention. You should do whatever it is you need and not worry about me.” I don’t mean what I say. I need him here with me, and I don’t know why. There is no explanation.

“You are not keeping me from anything someone else cannot handle. You, Kate, are my main concern, now that you are here.” Putting his arm over me, he pulls me closer.

Our legs touch. My heart races. His dewy scent fills my nose. I close my eyes, take a deep breath of Arland. Enjoy his soothing presence.

“But the others don’t know that.” I keep my hands clasped together in front of me, for fear a touch would chase him out of the room.

“They do not require knowledge of my affairs to follow my orders,” he says with authority. “My father is anxious to meet you.”

I’m thankful for the change of subject. “Is he?”

“Yes. He was excited to learn of your return. As we speak, he is mobilizing his army to prepare for our arrival.”

My muscles tense; desire runs away. “
His
army?”

“He became the High Leader of Encardia a year after the war began.”

I feel faint.

“Relax. Why are you tense?” His voice is soothing, but doesn’t help calm me.

“The thought of being introduced to someone who knew my dad so well, and helped save my life, makes me a little nervous.”

“Not the fact he is our world’s Highest Leader?” he asks, his words layered with doubt.

“That doesn’t seem as frightening as having to impress one of my dad’s friends.”

Arland laughs. “You are very interesting.”

We don’t talk about anything else; we lie here, staring at each other. I think about my dad and what life would have been like, if he lived, about Arland’s father, and about all the sacrifices people have had to make for me. After what feels like hours of gazing into Arland’s eyes, sleep consumes me.

ake up,” Arland whispers.

I feel him pushing hair from my face before his words truly stir me.

“Hmm?”

“We are leaving in an hour for the clearing; I thought you might like to eat first.”

“I’m awake,” I say, eyes closed, body unwilling to move.

“Kate? Brad needs you. Do you want to see your sister and mother again?” His words are like daggers, even though he speaks kindly.

I open my eyes to the dark room. Arland’s face is an inch from mine; he watches me. His chest rests on mine, but he holds himself up by his arms. A flood of emotions pumps through my veins. If emotions were colorful, I’m sure they could be seen covering every portion of my body right now, especially over my heart. Building up the courage to kiss him, I close my eyes … .

He sits back. “You are not easy to wake up.”

My stomach twists with nervous anticipation. “It’s been so long since I’ve slept without dreams; my body must be making up for lost time.”

Arland smiles. “Then you should be well rested for when we see your mother and sister today.”