filled, threatening to spill over. She blinked several times.
Not happening. No way would she let him know how much of her heart he already had, how much this was hurting her.
Have to get away.
“I’ll be back.” When she scrambled for the bathing chamber this time, he let her go. She refused to look at herself in the mirror. Stepping into the gel cleansing unit, she let the spray wash away his scent. When a tear ran down her cheek, she dashed it away with the back of her hand. The drying light clicked on. In under two minutes, she was clean, her skin fresh.
Her robe was hanging on the back of the door. She pulled it on and pressed a hand against her chest. “You can do this.”
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door and stepped into the room, the empty room. Kyler was gone. The chair was back in place. All signs of him being here had been erased.
The girls! She raced to their room, but they were sleeping soundly. A quick check of the front door showed it was closed and locked. Including the security bar, which could only be activated from the inside.
How had he left?
A shiver raced through her. She clutched the lapels of her robe tighter and hurried back to her room. The bedclothes were rumpled. She sat on the bed, leaned down, and inhaled his scent from the pillow.
This time when a tear fell, she let it.
Something caught the corner of her eye. The knife, the one he’d left in the living room, the one he’d taken from her when he’d broken in, was on her nightstand.
Not lying there. No, the point was stabbed into the wood so it stood upright. She pulled it out and gripped the smooth handle. The night was over. They were on opposite sides again.
Chapter Eight
She was a virgin.
Those words beat in his brain, pulsed in his cells.
Or had been.
He paced back and forth in the cargo bay of his ship, which doubled as his workout space. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Mine! She’d given herself to him freely. Or had she? Had she been trying to sway him from his path?
No. He’d heard the truth in her voice. Like him, the attraction between them, the bond that had snapped into place during their first meeting had strengthened with each passing interaction.
And what had he done? Like some craven coward, he’d left as soon as she was out of the room. Leaving her knife behind had been a deliberate reminder to them both. He flexed his fingers, missing the weapon, the link with Etta.
The ship’s comm chimed with an incoming message. He strode to the control room and took his seat. “Open communication.”
The king of Gravas appeared on the screen. “Report.”
“Sire.” He kept his expression blank when all he wanted was to growl at the man he’d served his entire life. “Balthazar and his father are still missing but expected to show themselves soon. I have eyes and ears on the entire public area of Hell’s Gate.” And some of the private ones, too. Something he’d done after leaving Etta.
“The father?”
“Helldrick is also involved. Uncertain how but I’ll find out.”
“And the daughter? The older one?”
“I’m still investigating.” He was walking a fine line here. Not lying but not telling the king the entire truth.
The king was in his early sixties, his hair and beard laced with gray, but he was still as imposing as ever. A warrior to his core. He steepled his fingers together, resting his forearms on his chair.
“Find out.” The king scowled, his heavy brows lowering over piercing eyes.
“Yes, sire.” His fingers started to clench so he forced them flat. His face was as impassive as ever.
“Balthazar must die. Helldrick as well if he’s involved. Get me all information about the daughter and anyone else who might be involved. This ends now.”
“Sire.” He inclined his head. The communication ended. “Computer, lock down communication.”
“Locking down.”
He bent forward, burying his face in his hands. Shame burned inside him. His honor was tearing him in two. How could he serve his king, keep his vows, and protect Etta?
And why was he willing to risk everything for her?
A trainer had once told him that every man had a hidden weakness. It was up to him to discover and then conquer his. That was the only way he could be the king’s blade.
There could be no conflict of loyalties.
Throwing back his head, he roared. The cords of his neck strained as