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A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash #2)(24)

Author:Jennifer L. Armentrout

But this was the kind of expression that softened the striking lines of his face and turned his eyes from cool amber to warm honey. And to me, it was the most dangerous of all his smiles. He wasn’t mad I’d thrown a knife at him and made him bleed, but warning bells went off nonetheless. These kinds of smiles begged for me to forget reality and all the lies and blood that had been shed.

They made me think of him as Hawke.

Instinct triggered self-preservation even as his smile tugged at my foolish heart, and the sensation slid lower, spiraling tight.

Casteel turned to me, his hand open. There was no blood. No wound except for a faint pink line across the center of his palm. “It still turns me on, Princess.”

I exhaled a shrill breath. “I feel like I’ve said this a hundred times, but it needs to be said again. There’s something wrong with you.”

He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Some believe there’s something wrong with all of us, and I tend to believe that.”

“I didn’t realize you were so philosophical.” I glanced at the knife on the floor while he emptied the basin into a bucket. There was no way he’d forgotten that I had it, or that it lay there now. Was he waiting to see what I would do?

“There’s a lot you don’t realize about me,” he replied, returning to the bedchamber to retrieve the pitcher of water warmed by the fireplace. “I cannot wait to return home, to the land where all you need to do for hot water is turn a faucet handle.”

“I—what?” I turned to him. “What do you mean?”

The half-grin was back. “In Atlantia, all homes have running hot water that goes straight to their tubs and sinks.”

“You lie.”

He sent me a look as he placed the pitcher on the stand beside the basin. “Why would I lie about something like that?”

“Because you’re a liar?” I reasoned.

Loosening the collar of his tunic, he tsked softly. “Poppy, you wound me. In my heart,” he said, placing his hand over his chest. “Again.”

“Don’t whine. You’ll heal. Again,” I snapped. “Unfortunately.”

He chuckled. “I’m not the only one who is a liar, it appears.” Reaching down, he gripped the hem of his tunic. “You’d be very sad if I didn’t heal.”

“I wouldn’t care—” My eyes widened as he pulled the tunic over his head. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He gestured at the tub. “I just had my hands all over what are basically rotten corpses. I’m washing up.”

For a moment, I couldn’t find any words as he turned, pouring the warm water into the tub. Partly due to disbelief, though also because he was…damn, his body was a work of art, even with numerous nicks and thin slices I could barely see in the soft lamplight. “Why are you doing that in here?”

“Because this was my room. And for what is left of tonight, which isn’t very much, it’s our room.” He bent over the tub, picking up the pitchers of water I hadn’t used. The muscles along his shoulders and back moved under the taut skin in interesting ways.

My heart clamored. “I used the water in the tub—”

“The water is clean enough,” he interrupted. “And I’ve shared far dirtier water with far less intriguing people.”

“Couldn’t you go to another room and have a bath all to yourself? With fresh water?” I suggested. “I’m sure many here would be eager to serve their Prince.”

“There are many here who would be glad to serve me.” He looked at me, brows raised. “But leave you alone? When you could take all kinds of reckless, albeit exciting action? I don’t think so. I can’t have someone standing outside your room all night. They need their rest. I need to rest.”

“Why? Because we’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Not with the storm blowing in. It will make travel far too difficult,” he told me. “You know, the same storm you would’ve gotten caught in if you did manage to escape.” His hands lowered to the flap of buttons on his breeches—

I quickly looked away. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

Casteel chuckled. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

“That doesn’t mean I need to see it all again,” I shot back as I heard the soft rustle of fabric hitting the stone floor.

“Interesting word choices.”

Telling myself I shouldn’t and somehow being unable to resist, I peeked at the bathing chamber—

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