Lane yawned, stretched, and rolled out of the soft, warm bed. After Damien’s revelation about the poison it had taken her a while to relax enough to fall asleep. Her beautiful dress hung in a wardrobe. She wouldn’t be wearing it to today’s meeting. This would be all business.

She debated telling the barons about the poison, but if they were behind it she’d be alone in a room with ten men who wanted her dead. If she kept her mouth shut it would probably be safer. Safe was good.

Her stomach groaned and she reached for the pull rope. Her arm was halfway to the silk cord when she caught herself. What if they brought more poisoned food? Better wait until Damien was up and could check it. She pulled a tunic over her head, but didn’t bother with trousers.

Lane studied her long, bare legs. Plenty of men had complimented her on them and she wondered what Damien’s reaction would be when she walked in. She smiled, a little heat in her cheeks.

Lane had spent some time with men, of course, but never anything serious. Most found her mother too intimidating and she was often busy on a diplomatic assignment. Some found her success hard to take, but she hadn’t gotten to be one of the kingdom’s top diplomats by worrying about some man’s disapproval. Ultimately the only man she had to please wore the crown.

Damien didn’t strike her as the type to be intimidated by a successful woman, or anything else for that matter. His door opened then thumped shut. He’d been up and gone out already? She took a deep breath and let it out slow. Was she really considering getting involved with a sorcerer? She didn’t even know if Damien liked her. Considering how she’d treated him for most of the trip it wouldn’t surprise her if he couldn’t stand her.

Well, all she could do was apologize and tell him how she felt. If he rejected her she couldn’t blame him.

Lane knocked once on the connecting door and pushed it open. Her jaw dropped. Damien was halfway across the room, an unconscious girl over one shoulder and a basket in the opposite hand.

He stopped and looked over at her, a sheepish smile on his face. He held out the basket. “I brought breakfast.”

A million questions whirled in Lane’s head, but she couldn’t force a single one past her lips. She took the basket from him and Damien continued on to the wardrobe. The doors opened at his approach and he set the girl gently inside before closing them.

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He rolled his shoulders and turned back toward her. All Lane could manage was to stare dumbly at him, the unopened basket still in her hand.

He took the basket back and sat on his bed. When he opened it the mouthwatering aroma of bread and bacon wafted out. Her stomach groaned and jolted her out of her stupor.

“Why did you carry an unconscious girl into your bedroom?”

A golden table appeared in front of Damien and he spread the contents of the basket out on it. “She’s the one that tried to poison you yesterday.”

Lane sat beside him. “What happened?”

Damien told her about his adventure this morning. “So when the hellfire ward went off and the guard’s charred brains leaked out his nose the girl fainted. She saw me use sorcery and tried to kill you once already, so I decided to take her into custody. I put a block in her brain that’ll keep her out for a day or so. The real question is, what do you want to do now?”

Lane’s head spun. This was too much for her. She was a diplomat and she’d dealt with some tricky situations over the last three years, but murder and warlocks were beyond her comfort zone. Way beyond. Damien just looked at her while he ate a bacon sandwich.

“Is the warlock in the area?” she asked.

He swallowed and took a drink from a skin of ale. “I doubt it. I would have sensed a powerful, corrupt soul force if it was within a few miles. Do you still want to go to the meeting?”

She nibbled on a piece of bacon and frowned. “Do you think they’re in on it? Trying to kill me, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things. The guard’s brain melted before he could tell me anything useful. It’s risky if you go, but their reactions will tell you a lot about how involved they are. I disintegrated the guard’s body so no one will know he’s dead. Since the girl is missing too, I hope the others will think they ran off together.”

Lane finished her bacon and started peeling an orange, the mindless task occupying her hands while she thought. How did this mission become so complicated? First the thugs in Allentown, then the poison, a dead guard and unconscious servant, not to mention the fact that she feared she was falling for her bodyguard. She wanted to throw her hands up and scream.

“If you wanted orange juice I could have squeezed some for you.”

Lane stared at him, uncomprehending. What was he talking about? She followed his gaze down to her hands. She’d crushed the orange to pulp without noticing the sticky juice running down her finger into a golden cup.

Damien smiled, stood, and walked over to the bedside stand. He poured water, soaked a cloth, and wrung it out. Lane accepted the proffered cloth and cleaned her sticky fingers.

“Thanks.”

“Sure. This’ll all work out. If you want to go through with the meeting I can wrap you in a shield of invisible soul force. The barons could beat on you with a sledgehammer and you wouldn’t break a nail. As long as you don’t eat or drink anything you’ll be fine.”

Some of the tension oozed out of her. Damien’s reassurance set her mind at ease. “Let’s do it.”