Bluebeard and the Outlaw by Tara Grayce

Chapter 13

Yes, yes. I can hear your questions. Did Guy and I ever fall in love? That is the point of tales like this. It just wouldn’t be complete without that happily ever after, now would it?

In the end, my ultimate heist would be stealing the duke’s heart. It wouldn’t be easy. Hearts weren’t like gold. I couldn’t just waltz in, grab it out of a vault, and make my escape. Hearts could only be handed over willingly, and Guy had locked his up tight.

I didn’t know how to flirt or bat my eyes or pretend maidenly weakness. Not to mention, I’d always heard you should never compete with a dead woman for a man’s affection. And I was competing with three.

So I set out to do what I did best. Annoy him until he couldn’t picture his life without me.

Sure, it probably wasn’t the correct way to go about falling in love. But you know me. If there was a right way and a wrong way to go about doing things, I would pick the wrong way.

But I would do it with style.

* * *

Whistling, I picked the lock on the duke’s door, juggling the two cloth-wrapped bundles of our breakfasts, and let myself inside. I sauntered across the sitting room and flung open the door to the duke’s bedchamber. “Rise and shine!”

In the grey light of pre-dawn, he was a lump underneath the covers. As I strolled across his room, once again whistling, he groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

I hopped onto the end of the bed, causing the feather mattress to puff and the bed to shake. I walked across the bed and plopped down next to the headboard.

Guy lay on his back, the covers pulled to his chest. The little bit of his shoulders and chest that showed above the blankets were bare, giving me a glimpse of the scar from where I’d shot him.

Ah, yes. I loved waking him up all tousled and sleep-addled. I grinned and wiggled deeper into the pillows I’d piled on what I’d claimed as my side of the bed, even if I didn’t sleep there. Yet.

“Robin…” Guy gave another groan, lifting the pillow just enough to peek at the window before he pulled it tight over his head once again. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

“Rise with the birds, that’s what I always say.” I opened one of the breakfast bundles. I passed over the egg and ham sandwiched between two pieces of bread in favor of the apple. I polished the apple on my shirt.

“Pest,” Guy moaned into his pillow. “Menace.”

“Ah, such lovely endearments to hear from my husband’s lips.” I bit into the apple, causing a loud crunch. “It just melts my heart.”

He cringed as I took another, even louder bite of the apple. His voice was muffled as he mumbled, “If you’re going to keep doing this, you might as well just sleep in here.”

I tensed, then forced myself to relax. This was what I had been angling toward these past mornings of annoying him awake. I wasn’t going to hesitate if he invited me to take the leap.

Besides, I’d already picked out the prime spot on the fireplace mantle where I would put the pyrite arrow. Right where it would taunt him by being one of the first things he saw in the morning.

As if realizing what he’d just said, Guy froze and slowly peeled the pillow from over his face to peer up at me.

I grinned and spoke around a mouthful of apple. “Fine by me. It would be so much easier to ruffle your feathers if I didn’t have to trek across half the castle to do it. Just think how much earlier I could wake you up.”

With another groan, Guy pressed the pillow back to his face. “Forget I said anything.”

“Too late. You can’t take it back.” I rotated the apple in my hand, focusing on it rather than on him.

Guy’s voice dissolved into indecipherable muttering.

Mission accomplished.

I smacked the pillow where it rested above his face. “It’s time to get up. We’re going to have another monster attack today. I can feel it.”

He set aside the pillow and heaved a sigh, blinking blearily up at me. Shortly after Reinhault’s death, Guy had shaved off his beard. Neither of us had liked his look clean-shaven, so he’d grown back a goatee, leaving most of the scar along his jaw visible. Proof of what he’d survived at Reinhault’s hands.

I was kind of envious that I hadn’t gotten any cool scars. You’d think nearly getting your neck stretched would have left some visible scar, but nope. Such a letdown.

Guy pushed back the covers and rolled to his feet. He wore a pair of rumpled trousers, but his torso and feet were bare.

I took in the sight of his muscled back. Now this was the view that I came here every morning to see. It would be a lot more convenient once I moved in here. Still staring, I took a slow, deliberate bite of my apple.

“Nuisance.” With one last glare in my direction, Guy opened his wardrobe, the large oak door hiding all but his feet from sight. After a moment of searching, he poked his head around the door. “Robin, where is my black shirt?”

I smirked at him and took a final bite of the apple. He knew very well that I wasn’t going to tell him where I’d hidden it. “Wear the red one. It still has a bloodstain the laundress couldn’t get out after the last monster attack, and it will just get mucked up again today.”

“Outlaw.” He disappeared behind the large wardrobe door once again.

It probably wasn’t that mature of me, but I hadn’t entirely been able to stop the stealing. One step at a time and all that. Instead, I only stole from him. It was just the odd shirt or favorite dagger, and I always returned them. Eventually. But it was just too fun to rile him a bit.

“You could always put a new lock on your door.” I set aside the apple core and picked up the egg, ham, and bread sandwich.

“I could. But a new lock would be a hassle for me to open every day.” I could hear him rummaging in his wardrobe again, even if I couldn’t see him.

“Or you could put bars on your window.” I chomped a large bite of breakfast. On some mornings, I climbed the castle and entered his room through the window. Just to keep things interesting.

“And interrupt that view? I don’t think so.”

“A new lock on that wardrobe might stop me from touching your things.”

“It would be a bother to unlock every time I needed a change of clothing.” Guy peeked around the edge of the wardrobe door, meeting my gaze for a moment, before he ducked out of sight again.

I settled deeper into the pillows, satisfied now that I had assured him that he could ask me to stop, if he wished, and he had confirmed he wasn’t truly annoyed.

See? We were doing so well on this healthy relationship and all that. Proper communication was key.

He changed into his clothes for the day, using the open door of the wardrobe as a changing screen, and I only caught the occasional glimpse of his arm or his head. I wasn’t sure whose blushing sensibilities he thought he was protecting, but it certainly wasn’t mine.

When he was finished, he shut the wardrobe door. He was dressed in black trousers and a red shirt that would look exceptionally war-like when he put on his weapons.

I quickly swallowed a final bite of my breakfast, ignoring the way it went down hard through my tight throat. After stuffing the unfinished half of my breakfast back into the wrappings for later, I grinned and held up the second breakfast bundle. “Hungry?”

He took a wary step toward the bed.

As soon as he moved, I rolled to my feet, gripping his breakfast in one hand.

He huffed a sigh. “Do we have to do this every morning?”

“Not every morning.” I eyed him, gauging what way he would move. “Just often enough to keep the morning thrilling.”

When he lunged for me, I dodged around him, darting to the far side of the bedchamber. He raced after me, giving a low frustrated growl as I evaded a snatching hand.

I laughed, my heart beating faster in my chest, my head whirling with the rush of the chase.

It seemed I would always need to be chased by this man, even if the end consequences would be less deadly than they would have been before.

He finally snagged an arm around my waist. As I laughed even harder, he reeled me in, swinging me off my feet to place my back to the wall. He braced his arms on either side of me, trapping me yet not menacing.

For a moment, we faced each other only inches apart, both of us panting and grinning.

“It seems you have bested me, Duke.” I pressed against the wall behind me.

He stepped in closer, though he didn’t touch me. “Do I get to claim my reward, Robin Hood?”

I held up his cloth-wrapped breakfast in the space between us. “Yes. Your breakfast.”

His fingers closed over mine on the bundle, and he drew the barrier of our joined hands out of the way. “I was thinking of something…more.”

“Oh really?” Now I was sagging against the wall, my voice coming out more breathy than boisterous.

Only an inch remained between our faces, our breaths mingling. With one hand still wrapped around mine, Guy leaned his other hand on the wall next to my head. His voice was a low, shivering whisper. “I would really love to kiss you.”

That was all the invitation I needed. I wasn’t the type to wait for him to do the kissing first. I fisted my hand in his shirt, pulled him the last inch, and kissed him as an outlaw would. Passionately. Roguishly. Just a little bit arrogantly.

When I pulled back, I whispered near his ear, “I know you love me.”

He gave a throaty laugh, brushing a kiss to my temple. “You don’t even know how much you’ll love me.”

With that, he drew me in for a deeper, longer kiss. It made me believe that, perhaps, this law-abiding duke had just a little of the outlaw in him. After all, his theft of my heart had been a heist worthy of the Hood herself.