Ivar's Escape (Assassins of Gravas #2) - N.J. Walters Page 0,22

from his hand. “Ah, you should finish getting dressed now.” For both their sakes. She put the cap back on and returned it to the medipack, all the while trying not to notice the rather large bulge in the front of his pants and the way her hands trembled.

Jaw taut, he eased the shirt over his head and stuck his arms into the sleeves. There were no buttons on this one, but some lacing at the v-neck opening at the top.

Clean and dressed, he was formidable. When he tilted his chin up, her heart skipped a beat. Not because she was attracted to him. The denial was quick. She ignored the liquid arousal coursing through her veins, the yearning in her soul.

He reminded her of Spear and the rest of the el Gravaso family. She’d studied them intently during her time on Gravas, had seen a hologram of Ivar. This man before her was a harder, older version of what she’d been shown, of what she’d been told.

But it was him.

Relief settled over her. She’d done her task, kept her promise to her sister and her new brother-in-law, not to mention the king of Gravas. She owed them for saving her from her own captivity.

And she always paid her debts. Wanted to owe no one.

“I have more food.” Turning away from Ivar, and the emotion tightening her chest and squeezing her lungs, she went back to the main cave. She plucked a bag from behind a rock, pulled out a couple of blankets, and tossed them on the ground. Not the softest bed in the world, but she’d slept in worse.

Without looking, she knew he’d followed, was attuned to his presence. “We’ll rest here for today.” Ears twitching, she caught the sounds of fabric being moved as he set up their sleeping area.

Stalling, she pulled out a bundle and centered herself before facing him. He was seated on the blanket nearest to the entrance. Was he claustrophobic? Or was it his way of trying to protect her?

“Here.” She sat on the empty one and set the bundle between them. “You need to eat slowly.” The last thing he needed was to get sick and lose what little he’d taken in. She opened the offering and removed a hunk of bread and cheese. “It’s only a day old, so it should be good.

When all he did was stare at it, she broke a piece of cheese off and held it out to him. His hand had only the slightest tremor as he reached for it. When their fingers brushed, tingles shot up her arm. She quickly pulled her hand back and rubbed it against her leg.

He took a bite of the white cheese and slowly smiled. “Delicious. I’d forgotten what it tasted like. Figured it couldn’t be as good as my memory suggested.” The low moan of pleasure that slipped from his lips had sweat popping out on her skin. She did her best to ignore the sexual hunger that was as troubling as it was rare.

Not once in all her life had she been this attracted to a man.

He ate slowly, chewing carefully. Most men who’d been half-starved would have gobbled it down. He savored it.

Another confirmation. According to the information she’d received from his family, Ivar’s favorite food was cheese, which he ate every single day when it was available.

“Thank you.” He licked his fingers clean. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

The reminder of his limited memory allowed her to shove aside the unwanted sexual attraction. Not only was it inappropriate, it couldn’t go anywhere.

He was a prince of Gravas. She was an assassin whose past had been stolen from her.

But her future was in her hands. As long as she kept Ivar safe and got him home.

Even though she hadn’t eaten in almost a day—she’d been too busy—she wasn’t hungry. Her stomach churned, the fears of everything that could go wrong eating at her.

Most assassins were able to shut off their emotions and compartmentalize things. It was the only way to stay sane. She’d always had trouble with that, much to the dismay of Zaxe and Sass. Her siblings constantly worried about her.

Thinking about them, she removed her shoe and lifted her foot.

“What are you doing?” Ivar placed the uneaten food back into the bundle and set it aside.

“Getting help.” She drew a small dagger—a clean one, not one she’d used to kill—and quickly sliced a shallow cut between her big toe and the