My breath hitched in my throat, my heart beat picking up as cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck. The midnight wind washed over me, sending shivers down my spine as I layed still as a rock. But I was far from cold.
"Breathe my lady." His honey coated voice echoes in my mind, but his words drifted off, losing its essence.
Breathe? Breathe?
How was it done again?
How could I breathe when my face was flushed against his chest, the heat from his body seeping through his silk shirt and caressing my cheeks. How could I possibly breathe when he cradled me in his arms, his chin brushing the top of my head as we waited for the female guards to pass by.
It was such a compromising position, especially with a man I barely knew. And yet….I didn't hate it.
How did I get myself in this position you ask?
Well….
Flashback
"A runaway bride…."
With that said the stranger took a step forward, and right on cue the clouds hovering around the moon part, it's silver rays revealing violet eyes and an amused smile, one that I recognized in an instant.
"You!" I blurted out foolishly, regret washing over me as the gaurds steps grew louder. I clapped my hands over my mouth and shut my eyes close, forgetting about the man before me for a second, consumed by the fear of getting caught.
Then suddenly, in one swift yet sturdy motion, I'm taken aback when a pair of strong arms envelope me, lifting me up with shocking ease. A gasp escaped my lips as soft silk caressed my cheeks, the scent of sweet wine and pure masculine essence flooding my senses.
I was completely lost in the moment, entraced. The cold embrace of the midnight breeze catapults me back to reality, and it was then I realized that he had broke into a run with me in his arms.
I heard the booming footsteps trailing behind us, the guards were right on our tail, but I payed no mind to them, my attention was on the dove pendant that dangled off the silver chain around his neck, my gaze trailing to his Adam's apple, the sharp curve of his jaw, the stubble of a beard on his chin, before finally settling on his face.
His brows were slightly furrowed, fully focused on finding a place to hide. His expression was serious, but the slight curve of his lips gave him away. He was enjoying the chase. I could tell from the way his eyes shone with childlike excitement and mischief, it was a gaze I always had when I ran from ticking off the market women back at the slums. I knew all too well.
Just like the first time we met, this man had entrapped me with the air of mystery and magnetism he exuded.
End of flashback
Now we sat still behind a stone carved statue of the first queen, and thanks to it, we were able to take cover from the watch of the guards.
He sat with his back resting against the foot of the statue, while I was perched between his legs, feeling his heart drum against my back; it was fast and steady, beating with a constant rythym that carved notes upon my skin. His shallow breaths fan against my neck, and as my hairs stand erect in response, I couldn't blame the chilly wind for the goosebumps that spread across my body, neither could I blame myself from feeling this way towards a man I barely knew. Instead, I blamed the timing of it all, the intimate position, and of course, his criminal allure.
My gaze flickers to his hands that rested on the curve of my waist, gulping my spit as I suddenly feel a tingling feeling crawl up my chest.
No this can't be normal, what soccery did this man posses?
I, Violet Roseline, am a woman of strong will and grit, and never have I been swayed by the fooling gestures of the men that approached me.
Their cheap pick-up lines, and robust promises of love never fazed me, not even when they showered me with fatale compliments and sugar coated words.
So why? Why did this man have so much effect on me?
"I think the coasts clear now." His voice reaches my ears, and I jolt back to reality, nodding my head in response when my brain refused to produce anything substantial to say.
I keep my gaze on his hands, waiting for him to let go, but he doesn't. A few seconds pass, and his hands still remain as they are, neither did I make an effort to remove them, or better still, I didn't want to remove them.
Get a grip Violet!
I mentally scold myself, biting down on my bottom lip as my hands find my amulet; giving it a light squeeze, I brace myself, summoning the courage to speak.
"Uhm–"
"Pardon me." He cuts in, and all words evaporate from my tongue as my courage shrivels away in an instant.
I stiffen in my spot as his hands finally leave my waist, my cheeks flaring up as they begin to slide down my exposed thighs.
On impulse, I grab his wrist, preventing him from moving any further as I grit my teeth in frustration, raising my gaze to send him a hard glare.
Damn him. How dare he touch me so carelessly?
Anger replaced the tingling in my chest as my grip on his wrist tightened. I was angry, not just at him, but as myself as well…because in that spilt moment…. I...didn't feel disgusted by his touch, and that bothered me more than anything.
"Ah..." he exclaims, obviously shocked by my sudden change of demeanor. His violet eyes meet mine and I finally open my mouth to speak.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask, irritation evident in my tone.
He blinks once, then twice, the blank expression he wore made it hard to read him and it pissed me off even more.
"Hey–"
"Rosemary oil would serve you well."
"Huh?"
His statement throws me off, my brows crinkling in confusion as he sends me gentle smile.
"For your leg." He adds calmy, and my brows arch a a centimeter higher.
My leg?
"You injured yourself when you were trying to escape didn't you?" He says, his eyes flickering to the wound that ran from the side of my left thigh to my knee. I follow his gaze, and my eyes widening momentarily as I realize why he did what he did.
"Oh." Was I all I could muster, lowering my head as my anger passed the baton to guilt to take over. I let go of his hands and he slides away from behind me, moving to sit across me. He dug his hands into the pocket of his trousers and I watch in silence as he pulls out a small bottle of rosemary oil and places it beside me.
My guilt only multiplied.
"I overstepped, I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable my lady. " Came his sincere apology, and my gaze remained on the bottle as my mind screamed at me to say something, but before I could get a word in, he was already on his feet.
He dusts his trousers and runs his hands through his silver white locks, keeping a polite smile as he offers me a courtesy bow.
"I will take my leave now." With that said, he turns on his heels to leave. He has already taken two steps before my reflexes kicked in and I ended up reaching for him hand. "My lady?" He calls after me, confusion clear in his tone as he spares me a glance over his shoulder.
Say something you fool.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, my mind desperately searching for the right words to say. I should thank him, thank him for saving me, or apologize for lashing out at him, that was what my mind told me to do…
But…
"Aren't you curious?"
"Curious?"
I had blurted out something entirely different.
"About me, why I tried to runaway…"
"You owe me no explanation my lady, I was just helpi–"
"Why though?" I cut him off, the wind ruffling my light bangs as I raise my head, my green eyes set on him.
"Why help me?" I continue, "I don't believe that you did that on your own free will. Everyone wants something in the end. Everything comes with a price."
For a moment, an unfamiliar emotion flickers in his eyes, but it disappears before I could identify what it was. The man before me falls silent and I was beginning to regret my impulsive actions, but then…
He smiled.
Not a charming or polite smile.
No, this smile was different, even the look in his eyes had changed, making him appear like a totally different person.
But I knew that look, it was a look a gambler had whenever he watched his opponents fall into his trap.
The look of pure satisfaction at their naivety as he played the fool just to reel them into their impending doom. A look that assured his win as he hid his true intentions behind a mask of deceit.
After working in a popular gambling bar for most of my life, it wasn't hard to recognize, neither was it hard to know that it spelled nothing but bad news for whoever was on its receiving end.
"A price huh?" He begins, turning fully to face me as he crouches down to my eye level. His violet eyes seemed darker as the moonlight illuminated his face and I don't know why I held my breath, waiting…
"You're right."
I knew it.
"Nothing is free in our cruel world, but mind you fair lady…" his voice lowers to a soft whisper, his hands reaching for a loose strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger as he leans in. I instinctively close my eyes, catching a whiff of his natural scent as he whispers in my ears;
"Are you willing to pay the price?"