The Wrath of the King by Danielle Bourdon Page B

here.”
    “Shifting how?”
    “It's hard to explain. I'm pretty sure Paavo has replaced most of the other guards with his own. Those loyal to his cause. You know what I mean?”
    “Yes, I think so. Be careful, okay? Don't take any more unnecessary risks.” Chey walked back toward the bed and checked on Sander. No flicker of eyelids, no change in breathing.
    “I won't. I'll call you tomorrow. If I don't...”
    “I know, I know. Something might have happened.”
    “Yes. Say hi to Krislin for me.”
    Chey ended the call and pushed the phone into her cardigan pocket. “Wynn got caught listening to Paavo's messages. She's worried the guard will tell the others and she'll be detained.”
    “Oh no,” Krislin said, cringing.
    “And I can't do anything about it. I refuse to leave Sander for any reason, for any length of time, and as she pointed out, I'm not sure any of the guards at the castle will listen to anything I have to say.” Frustrated, Chey traced her fingertips up and down Sander's forearm. His skin was warm, the muscles relaxed.
    “Do you want me to go?” Krislin asked.
    Chey considered it. “No. I don't want to put you in danger if Wynn really has gotten herself into trouble. Let's just hope the guard doesn't say anything.”
    “If you change your mind, let me know. I've made some inroads with a few of the guards and might be able to help.”
    “Thanks, Krislin.” Chey sank into the chair at Sander's bedside.
    The situation felt balanced on a precarious edge. It would only take a minor push to send the whole thing crashing down.
     
    . . .
     
    Wynn held the phone in her hands, staring down at the dark screen. A gentle breeze shifted through the small courtyard, bringing the scent of flowers and greenery to her nose. It also brought another scent, a masculine cologne she would recognize anywhere. Sucking in a breath, she turned around.
    Paavo stood just outside the doorway, hands in the pockets of his dark slacks. Lacking a suit coat, the crisp white shirt looked even whiter with the sun shining down upon him. The wind ruffled his usually groomed hair until a lock fell across his forehead.
    There weren't many times in her life that Wynn felt faint, but this was one of them. It had nothing to do with how arresting Paavo looked with the castle as a backdrop and everything to do with whether or not he'd overheard her conversation with Chey. Better yet, how much he'd heard. She experienced a flush of heat followed by an ice cold chill at the thought he'd listened to it all. To make matters worse, he didn't say a word; Paavo cocked his head a fraction and arched a brow, putting her on the spot to say something.
    For the life of her, everything that came to mind sounded trite or sarcastic or downright impudent. She wouldn't admit to fear, even if it rioted around her body, making her fingers tremble.
    Still, he said nothing.
    “Chey,” Wynn said with a gesture of the phone.
    “So it seems,” Paavo replied.
    Wynn couldn't tell anything by his tone or his expression. Damn the man. “I wanted to see how she's feeling.”
    “And how is she feeling?”
    “Oh, you know. Tired, a little cranky. Desperately worried. But good.”
    Paavo regarded her without a reply that time.
    Wynn wondered if he was waiting for her to admit that he might have overheard. To bring up the rest of the conversation. She wouldn't, not until he threatened her or made it clear he knew.
    “Did you need something?” she asked in a brisk, business-like tone.
    “Actually, yes. I need you--” Paavo paused when his own phone chirped. He fished it out and put it to his ear. “Yes?”
    Wynn stuffed her cell away, hoping against hope for a crisis that wouldn't wait. She didn't want to be stuck in an office with him, transcribing or typing or anything else right now.
    After a brief back and forth, speaking too quietly to hear, Paavo ended the call and said, “It'll have to wait. I'll find you later tonight.”
    “All right.” Wynn would