Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,105

nothing wrong. I’m sorry, Mana, I am. Whatever your relationship is—was—to Rhys, doesn’t concern me. It’s between you two.”

Mana dropped her supplies as her eyes rounded with understanding.

Rhys looked to her. “Thank you,” he said, shifting his attention from her on to me, “cousin.”

Embarrassment was a flash fire that ignited in my cheeks and constricted my throat. She was his cousin? Fine impression I had made on his family. What Mana must think of me, all but foaming at the mouth. After Pascale’s tantrum, I was amazed Rhys had dared risk the introduction.

“You are most welcome. I will fetch you when dinner is ready.” She hesitated. “I gave your brother the room beside Old Father. I assumed you would want privacy at your home.”

The look he turned on me melted my bones. “We do, and, Mana? If we don’t answer…”

More red blossomed in her cheeks. “I’ll leave a tray outside your door.”

“Thank you, Mana.” I broke Rhys’s gaze. “You’ve been more gracious than I deserve.”

“Hearts are fickle things, Maven. They drive us to act without thought at times.” Her smile was kind and conveyed perfect understanding. “That yours is a love match is a blessing only the two gods could have bestowed.”

My mouth ran dry and my lips puckered closed. Thank the gods for that mercy. I didn’t love Rhys. I didn’t know him well enough. I glanced back at him and my chest tightened. Did I?

His hand traveled my shoulder until he stroked the side of my throat, and all of my doubts scattered as if his thumb had flicked them away. “I judged you unfairly.” I’d let my insecurities speak for me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He excused me without hesitation. “Vaughn sews his seeds of doubt well.”

“I let him have his fun at my expense.” I should have known better. “If I’d asked you sooner, we could have avoided this.”

Rhys didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. He radiated smug male satisfaction.

“What?” He managed the word without inflection as he drew me flush against him.

I covered his hand with mine. “I think you’re enjoying yourself too much, that’s what.”

“My beautiful, jealous female is naked in my arms.” He smiled. “What’s not to enjoy?”

I sank lower in the water. “You’re unconcerned with nudity, aren’t you?”

“I am what the gods made me, as are you. There is no shame in what they created.”

His faith bolstered mine. “Your offer stands?” Perhaps it bolstered mine too far.

His heavy brow creased. I bit my lip and glanced between his face and, well, the rest of him. Understanding dawned in the flare of his nostrils. He nodded, and I looked my fill.

The current swirled about him, curving around his waist and drawing my eye to the hard board of his abdomen. Scars crisscrossed roped muscle, pale against his tan skin. My gaze skipped like a stone across a pond, unsure which part of him to admire first. A dark trail led from his navel to the waterline, and my fingers itched to trace its path. His legs were the first bare thing I’d seen of him, and even they fascinated me. He said look upon him. I had. Now how did I stop?

My fingers curled. “Can I touch you?”

“I think that would be unwise.” His gaze cast upon the shore.

“Oh.” My hand dropped. I hadn’t realized I’d lifted it.

“Water is sacred to the Salticidae.” He touched my cheek. “I have a healthy respect for Old Father and his walking stick. Otherwise, I would have left you under Mana’s supervision.”

Better for us both that he hadn’t. “No touching then.”

“Not while your skin is bare and your eyes are willing.” His grin turned wry. “I placed more faith in myself than was wise. Resisting you clothed is difficult, while naked it’s nigh impossible.” His fingers sank in my hair. “I thought coming to the water would be safer for us.”

“You mean with your honor to hold you accountable and my fear to keep me honest?”

He chuckled. “Something like that.”

I touched his arm. “I respect their beliefs, but I know myself and own my desire.”

He cleared his throat. “I believe I said I owned my actions.”

With a careless shrug that cost me the dregs of my modesty, I stood on knees weak enough to be swayed by the current. Sacred waters kept my virtue untouched, but it also kept Rhys untouched. Digging my toes into the sandy bottom, I owned my desire. My innocence was his. He would be my husband. I knew him well enough