Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3) by Rachael Slate Page A

below.
    There. Done.
    Shaking his head, he turned toward his study.
    “ Argh ,” a feminine cry echoed from below.
    He whipped around and peered over the railing. Sweet gods, a female lay on the grounds, nude and dripping wet.
    She groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees, her long, silvery blue locks clinging to her lithe form like wet clothes.
    “Ho there, lass. What—”
    She lifted sparkling, pale sapphire eyes to his, catching his breath. He sniffed the air and inhaled her scent.
    Nymph.
    Oh, damn. The waters.
    “ You. Why did you spill my waters?” She rose on unsteady legs, wobbling as she perched her hands on her hips. Those eyes narrowed on him, hardening into icy gems.
    His throat dried as he gaped at the lovely female. Luscious curves and a slender, graceful form that would fit perfectly into the crook of his arm…
    Hell. Oreius scraped a hand down his face, tearing his gaze from the nymph. After he steadied his raging nerves, he leapt over the balcony rail and landed in front of her.
    “Begone, temptress.” He flung out his arm, holding the flask for her to return to it.
    Agrius was definitely going to receive a lashing for this.
    Trickery. Treachery. He hadn’t deemed his brother capable of such betrayal.
    Instead of obeying him, she raised one pointed brow, wrinkling her pixie-like nose. “That isn’t how it works.” Treading forward, she pointed a finger at him. “You tossed my waters onto the ground. You dishonored my gift. And you shall remedy this.” She jabbed her finger into his chest, jolting him.
    She must have sensed the spark too, for she gasped, seizing one step backward. Yet, the fire in her eyes didn’t dim as she glared at him, crossing her arms over her bountiful breasts.
    He swallowed thickly and forced his gaze once more to rest on her face. That didn’t help. Her lips were sensuously curved petals, as deep a pink as the flushing of her cheeks.
    She was lovely and seductive.
    And utterly disastrous.
    ***
    Nysa flinched while the male removed his ivory tunic, baring his thickly muscled chest and broad, devastatingly brawny shoulders. He extended the tunic to her, jerking his chin.
    She plucked it from him, still tense. Her nudity brought her no shame, for nymphs rarely suffered from modesty, but the male’s dark glare suggested he did.
    So she tugged on the tunic, taking a moment to observe her surroundings. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It never had before.
    Though, neither had anyone ever rejected her gift. Her waters healed many ailments of the soul—grief, guilt, self-loathing.
    As she understood it, this male suffered from them all. When Agrius and Eione had drawn the waters from her well, she’d gladly permitted them, for their intent to aid this male had been pure of heart.
    But Oreius? Oh, no. The male had scorned the gift and had discarded her waters onto his lawn. The brute!
    Somehow, she’d been freed from her well in the process. Her hand drifted down to her belly, calming the churning within. She hadn’t been outside of her well in decades and she couldn’t survive long without the source of her waters.
    But if she’d grasped the situation correctly, her well lay within enemy lands of the centaurs, and returning to it might prove impossible.
    Damn him again. She fired her glower across his brawny chest and up to those eyes. So dark and so full of pain. They captured her, drawing her in. Every ounce of her being pulsed with the urge to heal, and Oreius was perhaps the most wounded male she’d ever encountered.
    “Well, Lord Oreius?” she huffed. “Will you not—”
    “How do you know my name?” His right hind leg stamped, nostrils flaring. Like many other beasts, centaurs could sniff out untruths.
    She raised her chin. “My connection to my waters. I’m aware of everything that happened in the vicinity of the flask. I know how much your brother risked to draw from my well, and how little you deserve his offering.”
    He reared back, peering at