A different kind of nervousness than before rose within me and then abated as he tossed the cloth aside. He was undressing, and I should look away. I should feel embarrassed by his soon-to-be blatant nudity. But I didn’t avert my gaze as his hands dropped to the line of buttons on his breeches. Heat crept into my cheeks as he slid them down his hips. The way his body was angled gave only a tantalizing glimpse of sleek muscles. His pants landed with his tunic, and then he looked to where I waited.
Our gazes met and held, and I didn’t know what got into me, if it was the warm, bubbling water, the serene beauty of the lake and the dreamlike surrealism of being in Atlantia, or maybe it was the hunger he’d spoken of earlier. Whatever it was, I lowered my eyes and let myself look. My gaze drifted over his chest again, then down the coiled muscles of his stomach and over pale nicks and grooves. I got a little hung up on the indentations on either side of his hips and then my breath quickened.
He wanted me, shamelessly so. I didn’t understand how or why. He cared for me, but I was only partly beautiful. I was no seductress, and ill-experienced to boot, and he had only been drawn to me in the beginning because he needed me to free his brother. But he desired me. Even I knew that.
I forced my gaze lower, to the Royal Crest branded onto his skin, just below his hip. His hand drifted over the brand, halting as if he sought to hide it for a moment, and then rose over the numerous slices across his stomach. My gaze followed.
Anger rushed me. That kind of premeditated cruelty was disturbing. “I…” I started to apologize for what had been done to him, but I caught myself. My eyes met his once more. “I wish they could feel the same pain they inflicted upon you.”
A slight flicker of surprise lit his features. “Even your Queen, who cared for you so tenderly?”
My heart turned over heavily. “I don’t think I will ever be able to reconcile the Queen you knew and the one who cared for me. But, yes. Even her.”
His head cocked. “You mean that.”
I nodded, because I did.
A half-grin appeared. “So incredibly violent.”
This time, I didn’t even bother to correct him. “Perhaps a little.”
His deep, rich laugh echoed throughout the cavern, daring me to forget what had come to pass and what lay in wait, challenging me to take what I wanted.
I sank under the water, eyes closed. Bubbling, swishing liquid danced over my face and through my hair. What did I want? Him. I wanted his hands on me, washing away all the reasons why I shouldn’t. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, crowding out the world around us. I wanted the touch of his lips, chasing away any logical protests before they could form. I wanted his mouth on mine, kissing away the lies his lips once spoke. I wanted his hands on me, soothing away the sting of guilt and the feeling that I was betraying myself. I wanted to feel him inside me so I couldn’t feel anything but him. I wanted to be so completely devoured by him that there was no room for the fear that he would become a scar upon my sure-to-be-broken heart. Because…because what if Kieran was wrong? What if after Casteel accomplished what he wanted, when he fulfilled his end of the bargain, all that remained was lies and betrayals?
I wanted to believe we were heartmates in spite of everything that made that seem impossible.
I stayed underwater, desperately searching for strength and common sense. I stayed until my lungs burned. When I broke the surface, there was still nothing but want and need for him. Hands trembling, I scooped the hair back from my face as I blinked away the dampness clinging to my lashes and lost my breath, lost a little bit more of myself.
Casteel had entered the pool.
He stood several feet away, having already gone under the water himself. His midnight hair was slicked back from his face, and water sluiced down his chest. So much taller than me, the frothing water only reached just above his navel. He looked very much like I imagined a god would, the fractured rays of sunlight glistening off his damp skin.
His intense gaze snagged mine, and that sense of awareness from before returned, passing between us. It was like a strike of lightning, thickening the already balmy air.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, gliding through the water toward me.
“You have?” My pulse pounded everywhere.
He nodded. “I have.”
I had to crane my neck back as he stopped only a handful of inches in front of me. “Do I want to know what you’ve been thinking about?”
“You’ll probably say no.” He drifted forward, his movements graceful and purposeful, and I moved backward. “But that will be a lie.”