Vengeance by Amy Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

the open windows, covered only with sheer lace that drapes
from the ceiling above.  It is a warm night.  Too warm for
my liking.  I can already feel beads of sweat forming along my
lower back.
    As I turn at the end
of the hall and glance toward the sweeping balcony that rests over
the main entrance to the palace, I realize that I am not the only one
awake at this early hour.  I approach slowly, unsure of who it
is that stands perched upon the ledge.
    “It’s a
long drop from there,” I say as I part the curtains.  The
man’s shoulders stiffen yet he does not show any other hint
that my approach concerns him.  “Would be a shame to ruin
such a beautiful night with your death, don’t you think?”
    The man’s
continued silence disturbs me.  I had at least expected a laugh
at my attempt at humor.  Even if what I say isn’t funny
people generally humor me anyway just because I’m queen.
    “Seriously,”
I press and step closer, now wary of this man’s intentions.
 “Why don’t you come down from there and we can
chat?”
    “About what?”
He asks without turning.  His voice is deep and velvety.  I
like the way his words seem to curl at the end like a cat winding its
tail about its owner’s leg possessively.
    “I don’t
know,” I admit.  I step into the light of the moon and
stare up at the man before me.  He has broad shoulders and a
tapered waist.  I can see that the material of his uniform
clings to his muscular legs.  None of that matters when I spy
his shoulder length hair.  Instinctively I reach out and touch
his leg, needing to reassure myself that this is not just another one
of my dreams.
    The man flinches and
leaps backward, his body rotating in the air above me. He lands in a
crouch, his face veiled by darkness but I can see his wariness as if
he were standing beneath a noonday sun.
    “I’m
sorry,” I mutter and draw my hand back, realizing only now that
it still hangs awkwardly in the air.  “I meant no harm.”
    He rises slowly but
remains in the shadows.  “Do you have a habit of touching
strange men in the dark?”
    Heat flushes into my
cheeks at the not so subtle implication.  “I’m a
married woman.”
    “Yet that
didn’t stop you from grabbing me.”
    My jaw hangs in open
disbelief.  “You can’t honestly believe that I meant
to grope you.”
    He shrugs and tilts
his head to the side.  Not being able to see the details of his
face is infuriating.  I cross my arms over my chest as my anger
mounts.  “How dare you insinuate that I would do such a
thing!”
    His deep chuckle
catches me off guard.  I like the way that sounds too.  “Calm
down, Illyria.  I’m just playing with you.”
    My shoulders clench
and my hands press tightly at my sides.  I can feel a slight
tremor working up through my fingers.  “Why do you use my
name as if you know me?”
    The man doesn’t
move, doesn’t speak.  For a moment that seems to stretch
into eternity he simply stares at me.  Then, with a surprising
grace, he bows low.  “My apologies, my queen.  I
should never have been so informal with you.”
    I find myself
nodding in agreement, for after all that should be the proper
response, and yet the formality of it all seems odd.  “See
to it that my husband doesn’t hear you say such a thing or it
will be your head he’s mounting on the wall.”
    As the man steps
into the moonlight I can’t help but realize how startlingly
handsome he is, especially when he smirks.  His hair seems
longer than it should be, though I don’t know why I would think
it should be any different.  
    A
shorter cut would really show off the stubble on his jaw.   I
blink, shocked by the thought.   What
is wrong with me?  I’m married for goodness sake!
    I clear my throat
and clasp my hands before my stomach, realizing for the first time
that it has yet to settle completely.  No doubt all of these
dreams have begun to stress me out far more than I would like to
admit.
    When the