“That’s disappointing.”
“That’s your problem—” I sucked in a sharp breath as I suddenly felt him against my back. I twisted. “What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” he answered, curving an arm over my waist.
My heart bounced like a child’s ball. “I don’t—”
“That’s all I’m doing,” he cut in. “I sometimes find that being close to another helps me fall asleep.”
I wondered how he’d gained that knowledge. Instead, I asked, “Then why didn’t you suggest that in the Blood Forest?”
“Because this is not nearly as fun or interesting as what I did then,” he replied. “I do have that diary around here somewhere. You know, the one with the throbbing co—”
“I know exactly which journal you’re speaking of. And that won’t be necessary either.”
“That’s all so disappointing.” He settled his head behind mine as he all but pulled me down. “I need my sleep, and that’s not going to happen when it feels like I’m on a boat.” He paused. “A rickety one.”
“I wasn’t rocking that much!” I denied, wiggling to put space between us.
“I wouldn’t advise that,” he said, voice gruff as his arm tightened.
“Why?”
“Squirm a few more inches lower, and I’m sure you’ll find out why.”
My eyes popped wide as I grew very, very still. Was he…？ Was he aroused? Simply because he was lying in bed next to me? Was that all it took? After what we’d just talked about?
I bit down on my lower lip. Sometimes, all it took for me was to look at him, and I’d feel a certain way. Knowing that he could experience all the want and desire after what he went through was a relief. What he felt now had nothing to do with what had been done to him. What I felt when he touched me had nothing to do with how I felt when the Duke placed his hands on me. I knew that.
And I shouldn’t be shocked to discover that Casteel was attracted to me. That had been abundantly clear unless…that too had been an act.
No, I didn’t think it was an act.
There’d be no reason to force the attraction now, especially not when it was just us—
“I can practically hear the wheels of your brain turning, Princess,” he said.
“Why do you believe I’m thinking about anything?” I demanded.
“Because you couldn’t be stiffer. Sleep, Poppy. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”
The marriage.
Our future.
Two things that were irrelevant because the first was never going to happen, so there could be no future for us.
Besides, how was I supposed to sleep with him curled around me like one of those small, fluffy animals that lived in trees near the capital? What were they called? I couldn’t remember. I’d only seen drawings of them in a children’s book I’d once found in the Atheneum. They were cute and looked soft, but Vikter had once told me that they were vicious little creatures.
“Do you know what the fluffy animals are called that live in the trees near the capital?” I asked.
“What?”
“The ones that hang onto the limbs,” I explained. “They’re fluffy and cute, but are supposedly vicious.”
“Dear gods, do I even want to know why you’re thinking of the tree bears?”
“Tree bear?” My brow puckered. “That’s the name?”
“Poppy,” he sighed.
I rolled my eyes. “You remind me of a tree bear.”
“I would tell you that I’m offended, but that requires speaking, which means neither of us would be sleeping.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
Lying there stiffly, I debated snatching the meat knife and stabbing him in the arm with it. That seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but it was one I’d enjoy, at least in the moment.
I didn’t know exactly when or how long it took, but somewhere between staring at the knife and doing everything not to rock, my eyelids grew heavy, and I did eventually sleep.
And I did not dream.
Chapter 8
The next time I saw Casteel, I was going to shove the stupid knife so far into his chest, he would have to dig it out.
Glaring at the door, guarded from the outside, I swallowed a shout of frustration and anger. With the exception of Delano arriving with lunch, I’d been locked up in this room all day, alone and going absolutely stir-crazy.
Casteel was gone when I woke, and that had been a welcomed discovery since waking up in his arms was not something I needed to experience again. The memories of such were already hard enough to forget. But hours later, as the snow fell steadily and the wind howled outside the narrow window, whatever gratitude I’d felt had shriveled up and died.