The Blinding Knife(251)

“It means we have a problem,” Gavin said quietly.

“It means the Order of the Broken Eye exists and is choosing to reveal itself. And that means we have a problem. The Order has risen. They mean war. Now go, I know you’ve other things in mind for tonight, and I’ll be up until all hours telling my story and giving orders and taking questions. I’ll handle all this. You…” She waved him toward Karris. “You handle all that.” And then she winked.

“Thank you,” Gavin said. He might have blushed a little.

“No, Gavin, thank you,” the White said. “Thank you.”

Of course, it wasn’t as easy as simply going back to his room. The room had to be searched—and Gavin held his breath when they searched the closet—and then guards had to be posted. Marissia sat on her little slave’s stool by the door, looking like she was trying to be invisible to Karris, but didn’t want to leave without being dismissed in case Gavin needed anything. Gavin absolutely refused to have a Blackguard in the room with him. “Karris is here. She’s a Blackguard.” While he argued, he gave Marissia a glance and a tiny wave. She looked grateful, and slipped out the door silently.

“Mmm, we’re assuming she might be… preoccupied, Lord Prism,” Watch Captain Blademan said dryly. What, did Ironfist offer a class in that attitude? “Someone attacked the White by climbing up to her balcony; we’re not leaving you in danger.”

In the end, they posted two Blackguards out on the balcony and pulled a curtain. The men were both given heavy wool cloaks and hats and told not to come inside until Gavin rapped on the glass—if he rapped on the glass. Other guards were posted outside the definitely-not-soundproof doors.

Being worth killing was a real pain in the ass.

“How are you?” Karris asked as she closed the door.

He barely heard her. He was taking the chance to look at her, really look at her for the first time. It seemed he’d been gone forever. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but she still moved gingerly. The blackness and swelling had faded, though not completely. Karris healed fast. “Your eyes are healing well, how’s the rest of you?” he asked.

“My eyes? I look like a raccoon!” She scrunched her face up like a rodent and made little chirping sounds that Gavin supposed were supposed to be a raccoon.

“Do that again,” he said.

She laughed, embarrassed, and he laughed with her.

“You’re the prettiest damn raccoon I ever saw.”

“Oh, Gavin Goldentongue,” she teased. “With that kind of eloquence, you’re going to charm my—Oh, look at that.” By some feminine magic, without apparently using her hands, her undergarments slid down her legs. She kicked them aside with a hmm, and grinned a self-satisfied grin at him. She looked positively devilish.

Gavin’s mouth went dry. She opened her robe and let it slide down her shoulders and then pool on the floor and she walked toward him. Her chemise was a silk confection, clinging to her lean curves, barely coming down to her hips.

“Are you well enough for me to have my way with you, my lord?” she asked.

“A bit bruised and broken,” he said. He suddenly smiled. Damn Seers. “And a lot pungent. I’ve crossed the seas entire today. And I see that—” No, no don’t mention Marissia. “I see that there’s a bath drawn. I could—”

“You come back and find me half-naked and you want to take a bath?” she asked. But she was teasing.

Instead of matching wit for wit, Gavin looked straight into her eyes and said, “I want this to be perfect for you.”

“I don’t want perfection. I want you, Dazen Guile.”

There was a right answer to that. Gavin cupped her cheek with a hand and pulled her lips to his. She was all that was warm and soft and safe in all the world. He pulled her into his arms and she pulled into him, glorying in the muscles of his shoulders and arms, his sheer size in comparison to hers. He obliged her by enfolding her completely in his arms. Then she squeaked.

“Ow, ribs, ribs,” she said, breaking their kiss. Bruises. Right.

She used the interruption to grab his shirt and pull it over his head. He gasped. “Shoulder, shoulder,” he grunted. She freed the shirt more gently, and they grinned at each other.

“Whew,” she said. “You are stinky.”

“Hey, I—”

“Teasing!” she said.

“Oh shut up and get back here,” he said.

She grabbed his belt, tugging it loose, but he grabbed her and kissed her again. He slid his hands over the silk, gently, back to waist to hips to ass, and then up to cup her ass beneath the nightgown. He made a sound low in his throat and suddenly picked her up and carried her to their bed.