Four

 

Terijin shoved the heavy wooden door open and staggered inside the dilapidated fortress. “Sire!” he shouted, hurrying down the stairs to the lower level. “Sire!”

Uman met him at the bottom of the stone staircase, his eyes narrowing. “Where’s the girl?”

“We were thwarted, Sire. By Yavi. I don’t know how he knew about our ambush, but he killed the three mercenaries. I alone escaped.”

Without warning, Uman backhanded him, a powerful blow against his face that sent him skidding across the stone floor. When Terijin looked up, Uman was stalking toward him, his solid black eyes menacing.

Uman bared sharp, black-stained teeth. “I told you not to return here without the girl.”

Terijin held up a hand to deflect another possible blow before it could hit his face. “I know, Sire, but I couldn’t get to her. He killed two of my men with arrows before I could do anything, and then he rushed us with his swords. No one survives a sword fight with Yavi. He—he’s the best swordsman the Assassin Army has ever had.”

“Enough!” Uman grabbed Terijin up by the front of his cloak and hauled him to his feet. “You are immortal now, you fool. Yavi’s swords can’t kill you.”

“But if he slices me open with his swords—what will happen, Sire?”

“You won’t die from those wounds, because you are already dead. In the future, you keep fighting until the enemy submits. The Zulfikars are mere mortals. We are the Vyrkune. The Undefeatable.”

Terijin nodded nervously. “Understood. But we will need many more Vyrkune to eliminate the Zulfikars, Sire.”

Uman paced away from him, then looked back. “Yes. I have a plan.”

§

The moon was high in the sky, and it was well after midnight when Yavi arrived at the White Palace driving Graciella’s coach. He signaled to the gate guards as he approached, and they swung the doors open for the carriage to pass through. Yavi drove it to the foot of the marble staircase leading up to the entrance of the palace, then leapt down from the seat to see about his feminine passenger.

When he opened the carriage door, he found her huddled tightly in her cloak, just waking up from sleep. The temperature had dropped quite a bit as they had traveled farther north into Nandala, and he knew she wasn’t accustomed to such cold winters.

Yavi reached inside the coach to grasp her hand. Her fingers were ice-cold in his warm ones. She stepped down out of the coach onto stiff legs, wobbling a bit, and held onto his arm for balance.

“Easy, there.” He steadied her with a hand at her waist. “You’ve had a long trip without resting. You must be exhausted.”

She smiled up at him, shivering. “Yes.”

He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms to warm her. “Let’s get you inside by a fire.” He placed her delicate hand into the crook of his arm as he glanced over his shoulder at the guard who stood at attention beside the coach. “Get Miss Graciella’s trunk and bring it inside.”

The guard nodded, and the stable boy took the coach to the stable to tend the horses.

Yavi escorted Graciella up the wide marble steps. At the top, Wolfan bowed and then swung open the doors for them. A young servant girl met them in the foyer and handed Yavi a candle. He took it, then spoke to her in Nandalan. “Bring warm water and a towel for the washstand in Miss Stovy’s room.”

He led Graciella through the Great Hall. She gazed up in wonder at the long, winding staircases with ornately carved balustrades leading up to impossibly high balconies overlooking the stark white marble of the pillars and floors of the Great Hall. The palace was as grand and magical as she remembered from six years ago when she was here for the wedding.

Yavi escorted her up the main staircase, glancing down at her face as they ascended. “Your sister will be eager to see you, but I don’t want to wake her and my brother and cause a ruckus tonight about your coach being attacked and me leaving without them to look for you. For now, I think it’s better if you rest.”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice weary. “I can deal with my sister in the morning.”

Yavi led her down the long hallway in Yajna and Jiandra’s wing, then stopped to open the door to the room the servants had prepared for her. He led her inside and set the candle down on the night table, finding himself reluctant to let her go. He rubbed a hand over her fingers, still draped over his arm. “Your hand is like ice.”

Graciella shivered in her cloak, smiling up at him. “Yes.”

Her lower lip was plump and pink, and he caught himself staring at it before gently releasing her. “I’ll build a fire to get this room warmed up for you.”

She backed away, and he knelt to stuff the fireplace with a few logs and some kindling. That done, he struck the flint a few times, holding it against the twigs until they caught on fire in a couple of places. He watched the fire grow a moment, then backed up as the flames began to blaze with orange and gold.

When he turned around, he caught his young houseguest gazing at the tin tub that sat in a far corner of the room. “Would you like me to send for heated water for a bath?”

Rosy color stained her cheeks. “Oh, no; that’s all right. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s no bother. You are family and I want you to be comfortable here. Treat it as your own home.”

“Oh, thank you, but I—”

There was a light tap at the door, and Yavi barked out a command to enter. The serving girl came in with a pitcher of water and a towel, curtsied quickly to him, then went to fill the washstand.

When she finished, Yavi gave her another order, and the girl bowed to him again before scurrying off. He turned to Graciella. “I told her to bring you something to eat. Are you sure you don’t want a heated bath?”

“No, honestly, I can wash up just fine in the washbasin there.”

There was another knock at the door. “Mahaj, it’s Ciren. I have Miss Stovy’s trunk.

“Enter.”

Ciren carried in the trunk, set it at the foot of the bed, bowed to Yavi, and left. Yavi glanced at his guest. “Do you need anything else tonight?”

She smiled, shyly moving closer to the fire to warm her hands. “Ah, no, I think I’m all set for bed now.”

Yavi looked away and cleared his throat. “Well, if that is all you need then, I’ll take my leave.”

“Yavi,” she halted him before he opened the door. “Thank you for rescuing me tonight.”

He inclined his head to her briefly, then stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He passed the servant girl on his way out of Yajna’s wing; she was heading back to Graciella’s room with a pitcher of drinking water, a cup, and a piece of flatbread. A pitiful offering for his young sister-in-law’s first night in his house. He wished he could have sent her roasted beef and a heaping pile of potatoes and green beans, mincemeat pie and cream, and a vintage bottle of red wine.

And perhaps dined with her, instead of retreating to his room alone.

Little Graciella isn’t little anymore. He smiled to himself. No, indeed. She was a tad taller than Jiandra, in fact, with sweetly rounded breasts and a smile that took his breath away. Jiandra would want to clobber him if she knew the thoughts that were running through his head about her beautiful younger sister.

He shut himself in his room, went to his washstand, and splashed cold water on his face. He patted dry with a towel, then peered into the looking glass. This surge of lust would pass, he told himself, like it always did whenever he put his mind to it, and he would regain control again.

§

Graciella took the tray and thanked the servant girl, closed and latched the door, then sat down in the armchair by the fire to eat. She was starved, and the cold, slightly stale bread tasted far better than it should have to her hungry stomach.

After washing up and donning her cold, rumpled nightgown, she crawled into the comfy feather bed, settling her head into the pillow and pulling the thick quilts up to her chin. As was her habit, she thought about Yavi before sleep, only tonight it was with far more excitement than usual. He was every inch the strong, quick, devastatingly handsome warrior-assassin she remembered. She couldn’t have asked for a better finale to the evening’s harrowing events but to have him show up to rescue her, take her the rest of the way to Darpan, and then personally escort her to her room and see to her needs. The fire he’d built for her still blazed strong in the fireplace, warming the room and lighting the stone walls with a yellow-orange glow. Throughout their encounter he’d been so concerned and attentive, albeit a little stiff. No smile on that gorgeous face tonight. He was frowning, serious, all business.

Graciella sighed. She was finally back in Darpan with Yavi, and she had every intention of erasing his frown for good.

§

The next morning, her bedroom door flew open. “Gracie!”

Graciella sat up, startled. Her sister rushed to her side and hugged her, half-pulling her out of bed.

“When did you arrive? I didn’t hear a thing last night. I thought you wouldn’t arrive until tonight!”

Graciella chuckled, staring at her sister’s warm green eyes. “It was after midnight. Yavi and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Yavi? He was up?”

Graciella cleared her throat. She didn’t want to get Yavi in trouble with Jiandra, figured it was best to let him tell her the truth if he so chose. “Ah, yes, he…he was up.”

Jiandra swept her into her arms again. “Oh, little Gracie. It’s so good to have you here!”

Graciella squeezed her sister’s neck. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve missed you so much, Jia.”

Jiandra pulled back after a moment and swiped at a tear. “All right, Miss Grace, get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast. Yajna will be eager to see you as well.”

When her sister left the room, Graciella rose, made her bed, and padded over to the washstand. She peered into the looking glass, examining her reflection in the morning light coming in through the tall, narrow, ornate windows on either side of the bed. Her hair was a mess, her face was pale and pasty, and she had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“You can’t see Yavi like this,” she told her reflection. “The seduction plan will be ruined if you go down there looking like a swamp hag.”

She brushed out her hair until it shone, then carefully coiled and re-pinned it atop her head. She pulled out a few wisps around her face and neck, scrubbed her face and pinched her cheeks to get some color, and dressed in the new rose-colored gown she’d recently purchased in Kingston because she thought it set off her breasts.

She was sitting in the chair by the fire lacing her boots when Jiandra rapped at the door. “Gracie! Are you dressed yet?”

“Yes, Jiandra, coming!”

Her sister opened the door, beaming.

Graciella stood up, smoothing down her skirt.

“Oh, my! What a beautiful dress! Is that new?”

“Yes, I bought it at Mrs. Gadbee’s shop in town.” Graciella turned from side to side to model it for her.

“My, it’s certainly…a little low-cut in front.”

“Yes. Exactly.” Graciella looked down, adjusted her bosom for greater effect.

Jiandra chuckled. “You’re such a flirt, little sister.”

“Maybe. All I know is, I intend to make my best effort to get Yavi’s attention on this visit.”

“Oh, Gracie.” Jiandra’s smile dissolved. “Don’t get your hopes up too much about Yavi. He’s not the same since his father was killed and he was named emperor.”

“I know he’s become withdrawn, melancholy. But I feel I could give him the love he needs to heal and be happy again.”

“I wish that were possible.” Jiandra pressed her lips together. “And I can’t blame you for being infatuated with him. I know how you feel. When I first met Yajna at the cart accident in the river, I thought he was a vision descended straight from the Gods. A very, very handsome vision. I couldn’t help but fall head over heels. Just be wary, sister. Yavi’s not open to a woman’s love anymore, not from what I’ve seen over the past six years. You are a lovely, wonderful girl, and I don’t want you to take it personally if he ignores you.”

Graciella swallowed, hoping Jiandra’s grim prediction didn’t come true.

“Besides, he’s a little too old for you,” her sister added.

“I knew that was coming!” Graciella exclaimed. “I knew it. Jia, you know you’re like a mother to me, but I’m not a child. I haven’t been a child since our parents died. I grew up quickly when we lost them. If you think about it, you’ll know it’s true.”

“Yes, I suppose it is true. You stopped playing with dolls and started cooking.”

“Yes, I did. And you know what? I much preferred cooking to playing with dolls, even at the age of seven.”

Jiandra touched her shoulder. “And glad I am that you did, because your cooking is the best in the world. Speaking of which—”

One of the twins appeared in the open doorway, clearing his throat loudly to interrupt. “Jiandra. Gracie is here for a visit, remember?”

“Yajna!” Graciella rushed to hug him.

He scooped her into his arms. “You are more beautiful each passing year, little sister.” He smiled down at her, silver eyes twinkling as he set her on her feet.

“Husband,” Jiandra complained, “kindly release my sister and stop staring at her so that we may go downstairs for breakfast.” She pulled Graciella out of his arms and inserted herself there instead.

Yajna growled and nuzzled Jiandra’s neck, causing her to squeal with delight. Graciella followed them out of the room, eager to see Yavi again.

§

Graciella bit into the dry, bland griddle cake, which crumbled a little onto her plate, then set it down and took a sip of the lukewarm tea. She stole a sideways glance at Yavi, who was seated at the head of the table, watching her eat.

“Would you like some butter for your cake, Graciella?” He held up the dish.

“Yes, that would be lovely.” She didn’t think butter would make the griddle cake more edible, but she wanted to appear congenial and enthusiastic.

“Who made these cakes?” Jiandra asked, tapping on hers unenthusiastically with a fork.

“We did,” Yajna answered.

“We? You and Yavi?”

“Well, yes, with some supervision from Shandri.”

Jiandra wrinkled her nose. “They’re terrible.”

Graciella choked on her tea.

“I told him Shandri can’t cook,” Yavi complained. “She had us put in too much salt, not enough sugar—”

“That wasn’t her fault, brother,” Yajna interrupted. “We’re low on sugar.”

“Yes, and low on talent.” Jiandra dropped her cake back onto the plate. “May I please ask Gracie to—”

“Jiandra.” Yavi was stern, frowning. “We’ve already discussed this.”

Graciella searched their faces. “Discussed what? Jiandra, what would you like to ask of me?”

“Nothing.” Jiandra looked down and poked at her griddle cake with her knife.

Graciella wanted to ask them what they were hiding, but she didn’t want to appear rude in front of the men. She would simply corner Jiandra later and make her fess up. She stole another glance at Yavi, staring at the V of his open-necked white shirt while spreading some of the butter on her cake, which didn’t absorb any of it at all.

Jiandra changed the subject. “Gracie, would you like to visit Rafe at the monastery with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, I would.”

“Perfect. I’ll let the stable master know we would like a coach tomorrow morning.”

“I’m going with you,” Yavi said.

“No need for that, dear brother-in-law.” Jiandra shook her head. “We girls will be fine.”

“No. It’s not safe.” A tiny muscle in his jaw ticked.

“I can escort the women, brother,” Yajna said. “You can stay here and work on your griddle cake technique.”

“Like hell,” Yavi grated. “The roads aren’t safe, and I don’t think you can handle it alone with your bow.”

Yajna grinned. “I can handle anything with my bow, I assure you.”

“Yavi,” Jiandra interrupted, “why the sudden extreme concern about the roads? Has something happened that you haven’t told us about?”

A serving girl appeared with a bowl of dried figs and a fresh pot of tea. Graciella eagerly reached for a fig, thanking the girl as she filled her teacup.

Yavi waited until the girl left, then leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table with a sigh. “Yes, Jiandra. Something has happened that I haven’t told you about.”

“What is it?” Yajna demanded.

“Last night the courier Jiandra sent to Villeleia returned and asked to speak with me, reporting that he’d been stopped by bandits on his way to Villeleia. The bandits read Jiandra’s letter to Graciella, then sent him on his way to deliver it, threatening to kill him if he tried to return here instead. When I got the news, I went to the outpost at the border to wait for Graciella’s coach, and just as it crossed into Nandala, it was ambushed.”

“Oh, Gods!” Jiandra pressed a hand to her chest, looking at Graciella.

“I’m fine, Jia. Yavi took care of it,” Graciella reassured her.

“Why didn’t you wake me, brother?” Yajna frowned. “I could have gone with you.”

“I didn’t feel there was need to alarm you and Jiandra. I knew I could take care of it myself.”

“Who were these bandits?” Jiandra pressed. “Why were they after Gracie?”

“They looked like run-of-the-mill Nandalan mercenaries to me. I killed three of them, but the fourth escaped. Graciella stabbed him in the neck with her dagger, so he’s probably dead in the foothills somewhere by now.”

Jiandra turned to her in horror. “You stabbed one of them?”

Graciella dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin, then laid it primly in her lap. “Yes, sister. I’m not completely helpless, you know.”

“This is completely unacceptable!” Jiandra rose to her feet, pacing. “My sister cannot be in harm’s way within our borders. We must do something about this growing bandit problem, gentlemen. We must give it top priority.”

“I agree,” Yavi said. “We’ll send what troops we can spare to patrol the main roads and ensure safe travel. Otherwise, our trade routes become useless, our hard-earned export trade destroyed.”

Yajna nodded. “In the meantime, we all go to Mount Solara together tomorrow. I’m not sending my wife and sister-in-law off without me.”

For her part, Graciella was pleased with the arrangement if it meant Yavi would be traveling with them. She bit into the dried fig. It was old and tough, but not as tough as the griddle cake.

§

Graciella stood on the library balcony overlooking the courtyard, watching Yavi spar with one of his guards down below, swinging his swords with lightning-quick, well-synchronized slashing movements. The guard blocked with a sword and shield, managing to fend Yavi off reasonably well for the most part. At the other end of the yard, Yajna was practicing shooting arrows at straw targets.

Jiandra joined her. “Ready for some tea, sister? It’s just arrived.”

Graciella nodded, going back inside the library to the sitting area in the center of the high-ceilinged room. She sank onto the little sofa in front of the low table where the tea service was laid out.

Jiandra shut the door to the balcony to keep the cold air out, then came to sit opposite her in an armchair. She poured them each a cup of tea, handing Graciella one of the cups. “I’m sorry we don’t have any tea cakes or bread prepared.”

Graciella sipped the tea. It was a tad warmer than what was served for breakfast. “Just the tea is fine. Is the palace really that low on supplies, Jiandra?”

Her sister seemed reluctant to answer. “Well…”

“You can tell me. I won’t let Yavi know what you shared.”

“Blast Yavi. I want some decent food.” Jiandra set her teacup down and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “It’s not that we don’t have supplies. It’s that we lost our cook a few nights ago. Literally.”

Graciella listened as Jiandra recounted how they discovered their cook was a traitor and a thief, had him sentenced to death, and executed him by hanging.

“That night after the guards loaded his body onto a burial cart, he disappeared.”

“You mean the body disappeared?”

“Yes.”

Graciella swallowed as the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

“We searched the entire palace grounds; we rounded up all the guards and servants. I read everyone’s thoughts with the Omaja. No one knew or saw anything. It’s as if he simply vanished into thin air. But the creepiest part is, he was involved in some sort of cult. I saw the cult leader in his thoughts while Yavi and Yajna were interrogating him. The leader was a frightening man, with a pale, gruesome face like the mask of death. His eyes were solid black disks.”

“Eew!” Graciella gasped.

Just then, one of the balcony doors flew open, letting in a cold draft that blew out the fire in the fireplace. Graciella and Jiandra both stared at the door, then at each other, wide-eyed.

“All right, we’re being silly girls.” Jiandra waved a dismissive hand as she rose to shut the door again. “I must have left it ajar.”

Graciella hugged her arms around herself, rubbing her own shoulders as her sister returned to her seat. “So now you have no cook?”

“Right. We’re trying to make do without hiring a new one until we sell a few more crops, because Terijin stole a large sum of money from the treasury and gave it to an accomplice. We don’t know exactly where they took the money, or we would go and get it back.”

“Well, I can cook for you, Jiandra.”

“I know you can. I suggested as much to Yavi, but he refused to allow me to ask you outright.”

“Why? I make delicious food.”

“Oh, it’s not the quality of your food. He just didn’t want to burden you with the responsibilities of working in the kitchen during your stay with us.”

Graciella smiled, feeling a warmth rising in her cheeks. “He said that?”

“Yes, but don’t make too much of it. He was just being a protective brother-in-law.”

Graciella frowned and lobbed a small pillow at her sister’s face. “You’re crushing my dreams, Jiandra!” she teased.

“Ow!” Jiandra laughed and tossed the pillow back at her. “Someone has to keep your head out of the clouds.”

“You wait. Yavi will notice me.” Graciella looked down and pushed her breasts up into her neckline a bit. “I will just keep wearing this same dress until he does.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt he’s already noticed you. And your cleavage. It’s hanging out for all to see, whether they want to or not.”

Graciella giggled, then threw the pillow at her sister’s face again. “Stop being so selfish with the Zulfikar twins! You’ve already got one; let me have the other one if I want, you old hag!”

Jiandra dissolved into laughter. “All right, fine. I may be an old hag, but you’re a little tart.”

“I am a little tart.” Graciella leaned back, raised one knee to prop the heel of her boot on the edge of the cushion, and flung her arms out wide, along the back of the couch. She fixed half-lidded eyes on Jiandra’s amused face. “Oh, Yavi,” she crooned. “You’re so sweaty from your sword practice. Come here and let me dry you off.”

The library doors opened. Graciella sat up straight and adjusted her skirt back down around her ankles, then took a prim sip of tea as Yajna strode in.

Jiandra stood and hurried to greet him. “Yes, my love?”

“Yavi and I are riding to the barracks to see the Army generals about sending bandit patrols. We’ll be back by dinnertime. I’ve instructed Shandri and Kitran to prepare dinner for eight o’clock.”

Jiandra gave Graciella a quick glance, then turned back to Yajna. “That sounds good. Safe journey, husband.” She tiptoed up to give him a quick peck, and he swept her into his arms, planting a passionate, too-long-in-front-of-an-audience kiss on her lips.

When he released her, Jiandra stumbled back a little, then swiped at the corner of her lips with her pinky. “All right, then. See you later tonight.”

“Gracie.” Yajna bowed to her.

Graciella smiled innocently at him.

Once he was gone, Jiandra shut the double doors and leaned back against them, closing her eyes. “I love how he kisses,” she confessed.

“Me too, and I’m just the spectator.”

Jiandra chuckled. “Let me get someone to rekindle the fire and refresh our tea. Back in a moment.”

Graciella nodded. Once her sister was gone, she pulled off her boots and curled her legs up under her on the sofa, then laid her head on a pillow propped against the high back, yawning. She needed a nap, but after she had rested, she would make the best dinner Yavi had ever tasted. She would have it ready to greet him when he arrived back at the palace tonight.

§

Graciella changed into a plain white muslin day gown, found an apron from the cook’s closet and tied it around her waist, rolled up her sleeves, and set to work searching through the burlap bags, wooden crates, and barrels in the larder for ingredients.

Jiandra stood in the doorway, fidgeting. “Can you make a decent dinner for twenty-five people with what we have in here?”

“Well, these onions have gone bad.” Graciella held her nose and lifted up a burlap sack.

Jiandra took the bag from her. “Tinni! Come take these onions and dump them on the scrap pile in the garden.”

A young man appeared to carry out her orders.

“I found some lovely leeks, though.” Graciella lifted a wooden crate from the stone floor, and carried it into the kitchen. “We’ll grill these with oil and a little lemon, and—ooh, is that a jar of currants?” She reached under the work table and scooped up a jar filled with dried red berries.

“Yes, I think so. Our currant bushes did well last summer.”

Graciella looked around in the larder for flour. “Do we have eggs? I can make currant buns if so.”

“Oh, I… Kitran, do we have eggs?” Jiandra called out over her shoulder.

“I don’t think so, Your Highness, but I can check the henhouse again.”

“No matter—I’ll make a quick bread instead.” Graciella searched for cinnamon. She found that, then handed Jiandra a sack of potatoes. “We’ll boil these, and roast these carrots… Are you growing any rosemary here, by chance?”

“Yes, I think there’s a rosemary bush in the solar upstairs.”

“I’ll make a savory lentil pie for the main course, then.” Graciella set the crates and bags of vegetables near the worktable. “I’ll need all these vegetables washed and chopped.”

Jiandra turned to a serving girl who stood nearby. “Wilten, you work with Miss Grace. Do whatever she tells you.”

The silver-eyed, platinum-haired girl smiled and nodded eagerly. She barely spoke any Villeleian, but she understood Graciella’s demonstrations and hand gestures just fine. With the additional help of Jiandra and Kitran, they soon had two huge kettles full of potatoes and lentils boiling, several trays of carrots coated with oil and sprinkled with herbs, sweet currant bread baking, and the leeks washed and sliced lengthwise.

Graciella wiped her hands on her apron and smiled as she watched her helpers work efficiently under her supervision.

Just wait until Yavi gets home.

§

Yavi left his horse at the stables, then entered the palace and strode through the Great Hall on his way upstairs to change for dinner. The glorious aroma of bread baking assailed his senses. It smelled heavenly, and made him realize how hungry he was after a week of the meager meals he and his staff had been scrambling to put together.

Suddenly he realized what that aroma meant, however, and his good mood turned foul.

He flung open the door to the kitchen to see Graciella stooping to pull a tray of loaves from the oven. The air was thick with the delectable aromas of the other dishes she’d prepared. A row of shepherd’s pies sat on the side table, heaped with mashed potatoes and sprinkled with herbs. Trays of braised carrots fragrant with butter and dill lined the top of the buffet. Rows of leeks were grilling on iron grates over an open flame. She must have worked all afternoon to put together this feast.

“What in Tejeshwar’s name is going on here?” he thundered.

Jiandra whirled around, startled. Graciella quickly set the tray of fresh-baked loaves on the worktable. Kitran and a serving girl huddled near the dishpans in the back, staring at him.

“We—we’re making dinner,” Jiandra supplied.

Graciella’s cheeks were red with heat and exertion, and escaped strands of her silky dark hair clung to her neck. Her hands and dress were covered in flour, and as he stared at her, she reached up to push a stray lock of hair out of her face, leaving a swipe of white powder across her cheekbone. Her pale-hazel eyes blinked at him, beautifully framed with long black eyelashes.

He grated out, “Graciella, you are a guest. You do not need to work in my kitchen.”

Jiandra held up her hands defensively. “Yavi, she wants to work in here. I kept telling you—”

“Jiandra!” he snapped at her. “Can’t you see that you’re taking advantage of your younger sister’s desire to please you? She should be at leisure during her visit here, not breaking her back to peel potatoes all day like some servant!”

Jiandra fell silent, but Graciella pinched off a piece of bread, came around the worktable, and held it up to his lips. “Taste,” she ordered softly.

The fragrance of the buttery-looking bread was almost overwhelmingly tempting, but he refused to open his lips and sample the fruit of her sacrifice to please her sister.

She focused her gaze resolutely on his lips, tapping them with the warm bread. “Open.”

He did, and she popped the bite inside. He chewed, and the softly crusted bread melted decadently in his mouth. The ripe currants and tangy orange peel gave the bread just the right hint of sweetness.

Graciella watched his reaction. Her sweet little mouth curved into the most bewitching, mischievous grin he’d ever seen, and it wasn’t just his sense of taste that became thoroughly aroused.

When did little Graciella become…like this? He swallowed the bite of bread.

She nodded knowingly. “Hm? Good?”

“Delicious,” he admitted, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Do you want more?”

Yes. Yes, I do, Hazel-Eyes. He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

She went back to her worktable and faced him, hands on hips. “Then let me work as much as I want to in the kitchen and stop yelling at us.”

He saw Jiandra stifle a giggle.

Holding Graciella’s gaze, Yavi smiled wryly at his own defeat, and bowed. “As you wish, my dear Graciella.”