Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) - N.J. Walters Page 0,11
turn to be deadpan.
“Wasn’t fun at the time. He wasn’t invited.”
Kyler ignored the clutch in his gut. “Were you hurt?” He leaned forward slightly, the action meant to convey worry. Only this time it wasn’t feigned. He really was concerned.
She tilted her head to one side, studying him intently. “Couple of tiny bruises on my neck. Nothing serious. I’ll take more precautions going forward.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” The cat-and-mouse game they were engaged in was pleasantly enjoyable.
“Just making conversation. I thought it was interesting I met two strangers yesterday, both of them big and not willing to show their faces.” Once again, her fingers were tapping.
“You never saw his face?”
“Nope. Wore a mask. Maybe he’s afraid I’d recognize him if I saw him.”
Making a split-second decision, he covered her hand with his until it was flattened against the table. “I’ll show you mine.”
****
The shock of his touch reverberated up her arm. His skin was so warm it was almost hot. He had to be almost suffocating beneath the cloak.
“You’re serious? You’ll show me your face?”
“I will. Just not here. I have enemies.” He inclined his head toward the room.
Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid.
“Come with me.” Crap, she was going to be stupid. She had enough problems of her own without getting involved with a man who had enemies. Who was this stranger who’d walked into her world only yesterday, but who’d made a huge impact with his mere presence?
She’d get a good look at him and satisfy her curiosity. They could both be on their way and that would be that.
If the gods were smiling on her, he’d be homely and as old as her father. But the way things had gone lately, she wasn’t counting on it.
Plus, if she could see his eyes, read his face, he might betray his thoughts, give her the answers she needed.
All eyes were on them as she led the way to the kitchen. Was it her imagination or had the volume dropped in the bar? Her father’s cronies would be sure to report this deviation of her schedule. There were no shackles on her, but she was a prisoner here until she could figure out how to get her sisters out.
That would take more money than she had, passage somewhere safe, and a destination where her father and brother would never find them.
If such a place even exists.
She rubbed her fingers over her temple, willing away the throbbing ache that had been with her all day. Sleep had eluded her last night. Coupled with the long day, she was ready to drop into bed and sleep for eight hours straight.
“Are you okay?” His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. No shivers. Nope. Not having them.
“Headache.” She motioned to a stool and stood behind her work station. As much habit, as to give herself something to do, she grabbed a knife and began to butcher the meat on the counter. The type and where it had come from was suspect, but it was fresh. Perfect for a big pot of stew.
The kitchen area was well lit, giving her a better idea of just how big Ky was. The answer? Huge. He might even be bigger than Balthazar.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing the tip of her knife at the stool. “You’re giving me a crick in my neck.”
He shook his head, but sat. “You run the kitchen?”
“Yes.” Head down, she diced all the meat. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Finally, she set down the knife and wiped her hands clean. “Well?”
As if all he’d been waiting for was her full attention, he raised his hand to the hood of his cloak. Anticipation thrummed through her. Her stomach was a ball of nerves. She gripped the edge of the counter.
Ever so slowly, he lowered the covering.
Her mouth dropped. He was gorgeous.
Straight black hair fell to his shoulders, pushed away from a face that had been carved by the gods. His chin and jaw were hewn from stone. And his cheekbones were prominent slashes in his face. Mesmerized, she stared into eyes as dark as midnight.
This was not a face a woman would ever forget.
The only softness at all were the thick eyelashes and full lips.
Don’t look at his lips.
She was staring but couldn’t stop. Mouth dry, she licked her own lips, feeling them tingle. He was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.