Catastrophic Attraction - Eve Langlais Page 0,70

and drawn out,” Casey remarked. “Why not a knife to the throat?”

Roark knew the answer to that. “Because the king is actually very well liked. If he were killed, the citizens might revolt.”

“Revolt against who, though?” she asked.

“Against the wrong Enclave member who tries to take over. King Phineas is not the best king out there, but he’s decent, and under his rule and his father’s, Port City has thrived.”

“Meaning da king is a harmless old codger who liked everyone to make money,” Jorah said.

“Because a citizen that prospers fills the kingdoms coffers,” Casey said, taking over.

Roark arched a brow. “You’ve read the Theories of Kingdoms.”

“I was listening when Charlie was taking lessons. What I don’t understand is why your King Phineas took over from his father. Hereditary claims are archaic.”

“But traditional in many places.”

“Not in Emerald. In the Wasteland, the strongest rules.”

“In other locales, it’s the smartest. Or the wiliest.” He winked.

“Darius chooses to only be king of da ship ‘cause he donna like orders,” Jorah confided.

“Darius is a lucky bastard,” Roark muttered.

Jorah halted by a large door. “We’re here.”

Here being the cellar of a building that proved to have a large common hall, dark and rowdy, as people sat and shared pitchers of ale. Casey remained tense but kept her hand off her knives as she followed Jorah’s massive body. A few people addressed him, and he flipped them rude gestures each time to guffaws of laughter.

Inside the tunnels, Roark had let his face change back to normal. He trusted Jorah, but inside the tavern with strangers, he chose to be anonymous again.

They were given the third floor, which meant plenty of stairs but the full attic space to inhabit. It showed signs of being used, the bed neatly made, but clothes hung on a chair, spare boots in a corner.

“Whose room is this?” Casey asked.

“Capn’s,” Jorah said. “And safe as can be.”

Roark tended to agree. Only two windows, one on either end. Easy to escape if needed. Space enough to guard. He knew there would be at least one person watching the roof. More downstairs. This was Darius’s headquarters when in the city and the best place for Roark to stay, especially since it had the basement exit.

Jorah left them, and Casey prowled the room, checking it out, especially the bathroom area. “It has a tub.”

“Have a bath.”

She shook her head despite the wistful expression. “Now that we’re in the city, we should be on our guard.”

“We aren’t getting attacked in the next hour. You can be vigilant to the extreme after you’ve soaked and eaten.”

The scowl didn’t surprise. “You’re trying to make me soft.”

“Not make. I’d never force you to do anything.” He never even bothered stroking her mind anymore. She was a blank slate to him. He loved the challenge of guessing what she thought. She continually surprised him. And when she did give him the occasional burst of emotion, he felt honored.

“You made me believe we’d be fighting our way through the sewers into the city.”

He shrugged. “Would you have been less on guard if I’d told you the truth?”

She flung a knife, and it whisked past to embed in the slanted beam of the ceiling. He didn’t move, but he was blasé as he said, “I don’t need your dagger. I have my own.”

“Just in case I need to cartwheel out of the washroom naked to your rescue.” She dropped her pack. Then her belt. She kicked off her boots and walked away, pulling off her shirt to reveal the bandeau that bound her breasts, the taper of her waist. When her fingers went to the waistband, he sucked in a breath and turned away.

He wanted to touch her. So badly. But this was Casey. Despite what had happened the night before, he couldn’t just take what he wanted. He’d hoped things would have changed, yet the moment after he’d made her come on his tongue, she’d become standoffish. Since then, he’d caught her glaring at him for no reason, making it obvious he’d displeased her.

Kneeling, he opened his pack, and Sachi yawned before exiting his bag. He’d not lied to Casey earlier when he said he’d had no idea the cat snuck in. He would have sworn it was feline free.

Sachi stepped out of the bag, and he eyed her. “Be good.”

Her whiskers twitched.

Straightening, he heard water running, and rather than imagine Casey naked in the tub, he took that moment to look out the window. The tavern sat on the edge

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