“Yes.”
Tension bracketed his mouth, but the motions of his fingers remained gently, oddly soothing. “Are you even a courtesan?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because it does.”
“It didn’t matter when you led me to believe you were a lord,” I pointed out, which a part of me fully recognized I probably shouldn’t have, but it was absurd and . . . and unfair for him to be questioning me when he too hadn’t exactly been forthcoming.
“We’re not talking about me, na’laa.”
“I have a feeling you’re calling me stubborn instead of brave when you call me that,” I muttered.
“Right now, it’s a mixture of both.” His gaze swept over my features. “Did you have a choice in coming to me tonight?”
“What?”
“Were you forced to come to me tonight?”
His questions knocked me off-kilter. I couldn’t fathom why he’d care if that was the case. “Yes.”
He stared at me for several moments; then his lashes swept down, shielding his eyes. “Your baron is a fool.”
I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t really disagree with that statement. Claude was a fool and so was I for going along with this. My heart pounded unsteadily in the silence that followed. I didn’t know what to expect, but then he let me go. Confused, I remained where I was, my body pressed tightly against his, my hands flattened on his shoulders, and . . . the rigid length of him still nestled against my core.
“You should dry off,” he said quietly.
“You . . . you’re not going to punish me?” I asked.
“Why would I punish you for the idiocy of another?” Those lashes lifted then, and the faintest burst of white was visible in his eyes.
More than a little surprised, I rose on shaky legs, causing water to splash over the sides as I stepped out of the tub. I quickly dried off and then retrieved my robe. Sliding it on, I hastily secured the sash and made sure the pouch had remained in the pocket. If that fell out . . . good gods.
I turned back to the Prince, startled into taking a step back. He’d already left the tub. I hadn’t heard him or a single sound of the water being disturbed. Meanwhile, I’d sounded like a small child splashing in a puddle when I had risen. I picked up a fresh towel, offering it to him.
He didn’t take it.
Instead, his hands went to my throat. I tensed, nearly losing my grip on the towel.
Prince Thorne’s lips quirked as he slipped his hands beneath my hair. His fingers grazed the nape of my neck, sending a series of shivers down my back. I stood there as he . . . as he tugged the heavy length of hair free from the robe.
“There,” he said.
My breath . . . it skipped. Thrown by his gesture, I went completely still again.
“You behave as if you expect violence from me at every turn,” he commented, taking the towel from me. “I know my kind can be . . . unpredictable, but have I behaved in a way that would give you pause?”
I swallowed.
He looked over at me as he drew the towel across his chest. “It’s an honest question.”
“Well, you did take me to the ground that night in the barn and threaten to drown me in your blood.”
“I was not quite aware of myself at that moment.”
“And when I first entered your bedchamber, you held me against a wall,” I continued.
One eyebrow rose. “The bedchamber you entered uninvited and unexpected.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “You asked why I’d expect violence. Those were just two examples.”
“Just two?” he replied. “There’s more?”
I glanced at the tub. “I did come here under false pretenses.”
“Yes,” he said. “There is that. Are you to speak with the Baron upon leaving my quarters?”
“I’m to meet with him in the morning, before he speaks with you.”
“What will happen if you have no real information to provide him?”
“Nothing.”
He lowered the towel, his stare piercing straight through me. “Na’laa.”
“I do not like that nickname.”
“You would if you knew all the meanings.”
I gritted my teeth as he continued to wait for an answer— for the truth. “He will be . . . disappointed.”
“Will he punish you?”
“No.” I looked away, uncomfortable with the idea that he would think that. Uncomfortable with the fact that I’d expected it from him. “He might not even remember sending me to you, to be honest.” That was unlikely, but there was a sliver of a chance. “He was quite intoxicated.”