“Cross!” I bellowed.
“Is that you, Lord?”
Cross’ disappointment was obvious. “Oh, it’s you. I’m a little busy here.”
“Are you, now?”
He looked around at the naked bodies scattered about the room. Most were female, but there were some men as well.
“Where is Prince Steffan?” I asked.
Cross tugged at the neckline of his black tunic…the only clothed person in the place. His hand pointed vaguely to an area of the room where there was a higher concentration of good looking females. “He’s asleep under them…I think.” The chair beneath him creaked as he settled back in it. He had to stay alert as, no doubt, a husband of one of these women would be along any moment..and that would not end well. It would be Cross’ job to get Steffan to safety when out did.
Of course I knew where Steffan was…and, as usual, even under cover of females, Cross was right. He had been Prince Steffan’s right hand man…his butler…his wingman for far too long not to know.
I moved up close to Cross’ ear. “I have an offer for you.”
Startled by my whisper, he almost fell from his chair. Straightening again, he sat back. “I don’t think I’m interested.”
“You haven’t even heard the offer.”
“I am quite aware. I recall when you brought that dreaded redhead along and do not think I can forgive you for that.”
I gave a low chuckle. “She was dreadful, wasn’t she.”
“She drank all of my ale. It was most upsetting.”
“I will make it up to you.”
“I prayed to God that you would never return.”
“But we don’t believe in any god.”
“I do,” he hissed.
“No, you really don’t.”
His blue eyes shifted to find the source of a stirring snore. “Perhaps I don’t. I was hoping the story books might be right.”
“Funny.” I looked around at the stone walls…the torn tapestries being used as blankets, and the snoring bodies. “What if I took you to something else? What if I took you elsewhere and gave you the opportunity that Steffan never had?”
He gestured at the snoring corpses with a grand silent wave. “What? And miss these orgies?”
“You could be in your own orgies.”
He chuckled and stopped before disturbing the sleeping bodies. “I don’t want orgies…well, unless…”
“…unless Tara is involved,” I finished the sentence for him. “That could be arranged.”
The pounding in the large oak door behind his chair brought Cross to his feet and woke some of the snoring, still drunken orgiests.
“Again, I think I’m a little busy here. Can we talk about this later?”
“This offer express in five seconds.”
A loud voice screamed through the door, “Camille! I know you’re in there.”
Cross grabbed the hilt of his sword and rolled his eyes.
“Steffan! I’m going to kill you!” the voice from behind the door seemed slightly upset in its fiery tone.
Cross moved away from his chair and sighed. This was not the first time he would stare down a jealous husband.
“Men! To arms! Break the door down!”
“Men, did he say men?” Cross asked and his face showed that this situation was somewhat different than he expected. “One, I could…could…”
Solid oak or not, the door almost shattered with the first bow from the other side.
“Yes,” I said as quietly as I could, “he said men. And one.”
More naked drunken bodies stirred, but none had even attempted…never mind succeeded in getting to their feet.
“I’ll take the offer!”
The door exploded inward in shards of flying splinters.
Cross, however, was no longer there.