46. Behind Closed Doors

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Ayla was just trying to figure out how not to faint from the feeling of Reuben's lips on her fingers, when she heard a noise from the thing used to enter the room. What was it called again? Oh yes, door. Details like that were so hard to focus on with the heat of Reuben’s mouth on her hand. And the noise coming from the door was called...

Reuben's lips slowly moved up her fingers, caressing, worshiping. It was so hard to concentrate.

A knock! That's what it was called! A knock. Somebody was knocking at the door.

So what? She didn’t have to let them in, did she?

“Ayla,” Reuben murmured against her skin. Her name, whispered against her skin, was the most intoxicating thing she had ever felt.

“Milady?” Burchard’s voice came from outside the room. The knock came again. “Are you in there?”

She opened her mouth, trying to reply “yes”. However, the weak noise that came out of her mouth wasn't very coherent.

“Milady? Why are you moaning? Are you sick?”

“Err... not really, Burchard. I... ohhh....”

“Milady? What's the matter? I'm coming in!”

Some survival instinct in Ayla made her snatch her hands from Reuben's grasp and fall back into her chair. It was just in time. At the other end of the room Burchard thrust open the door and peered into the room, his mustache twitching suspiciously.

Reuben bent to her ear and whispered: “That old walrus has the worst sense of timing of anyone alive!”

Ayla had to work hard to suppress a grin. Finally, Burchard's gaze fastened on her reddened cheeks.

“What's the matter with you?” he demanded. “You look flushed. Are you sick?”

What could she tell him? What could she possibly say?

I think I have fallen in love, for the second time in my life, and it's the same man I fell in love with the first time. Why twice, then? Well, he lied to me and robbed me, which kind of made made me despise him for a while, but we've got that straightened out now. He's not going to betray me. At least I hope so...

No. That would definitely not go over well.

Determinedly, she kept her eyes off Reuben, and answered: “I'm just upset about this business of the traitor.”

She didn't mind that her voice sounded low and breathy. She had said she was upset, hadn’t she? For all Burchard knew, she might have been crying buckets. Out of the corner of her eyes, she chanced a quick glance at Reuben. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight.

“Well, I can understand that,” Burchard replied. But Ayla wasn't listening anymore. She was only seeing Reuben.

He was glowing. His fierce gray eyes alive with a fire that was just as ferocious as the fire of battle she had seen there before, or even more so. If he had looked glorious before, he now looked sublime. What had happened?

The answer to the question presented itself so clearly, that Ayla was terribly afraid it might be the wrong one.

What had changed?

she had given him a sign of her love. That had.

Could it really be that her love had lifted him to such levels of intimidating ecstasy? Well, his love had certainly done the same for her.

“...and I came to ask you...” Burchard was still talking. But somehow, although he still technically was in the same room, they seemed a thousand miles away. Ayla was still looking at Reuben out of the corner of her eyes.

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