A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

between your legs, though I’ll want that too. You’ll share my tent, pour my wine, laugh at my jests, rub the ache from my legs after each day’s ride … and whether I keep you a day or a year, for so long as we are together you will take no other men into your bed.”
    â€œFair enough.” She reached down to the hem of her thin roughspun gown and pulled it up over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. There was nothing underneath but Shae. “If he don’t put down that candle, m’lord will burn his fingers.”
    Tyrion put down the candle, took her hand in his, and pulled her gently to him. She bent to kiss him. Her mouth tasted of honey and cloves, and her fingers were deft and practiced as they found the fastenings of his clothes.
    When he entered her, she welcomed him with whispered endearments and small, shuddering gasps of pleasure. Tyrion suspected her delight was feigned, but she did it so well that it did not matter.
That
much truth he did not crave.
    He had needed her, Tyrion realized afterward, as she lay quietly in his arms. Her or someone like her. It had been nigh on a year since he’d lain with a woman, since before he had set out for Winterfell in company with his brother and King Robert. He could well die on the morrow or the day after, and if he did, he would sooner go to his grave thinking of Shae than of his lord father, Lysa Arryn, or the Lady Catelyn Stark.
    He could feel the softness of her breasts pressed against his arm as she lay beside him. That was a good feeling. A song filled his head. Softly, quietly, he began to whistle.
    â€œWhat’s that, m’lord?” Shae murmured against him.
    â€œNothing,” he told her. “A song I learned as a boy, that’s all. Go to sleep, sweetling.”
    When her eyes were closed and her breathing deep and steady, Tyrion slid out from beneath her, gently, so as not to disturb her sleep. Naked, he crawled outside, steppedover his squire, and walked around behind his tent to make water.
    Bronn was seated cross-legged under a chestnut tree, near where they’d tied the horses. He was honing the edge of his sword, wide awake; the sellsword did not seem to sleep like other men. “Where did you find her?” Tyrion asked him as he pissed.
    â€œI took her from a knight. The man was loath to give her up, but your name changed his thinking somewhat … that, and my dirk at his throat.”
    â€œSplendid,” Tyrion said dryly, shaking off the last drops. “I seem to recall saying
find me a whore
, not
make me an enemy.”
    â€œThe pretty ones were all claimed,” Bronn said. “I’ll be pleased to take her back if you’d prefer a toothless drab.”
    Tyrion limped closer to where he sat. “My lord father would call that insolence, and send you to the mines for impertinence.”
    â€œGood for me you’re not your father,” Bronn replied. “I saw one with boils all over her nose. Would you like her?”
    â€œWhat, and break your heart?” Tyrion shot back. “I shall keep Shae. Did you perchance note the
name
of this knight you took her from? I’d rather not have him beside me in the battle.”
    Bronn rose, cat-quick and cat-graceful, turning his sword in his hand. “You’ll have me beside you in the battle, dwarf.”
    Tyrion nodded. The night air was warm on his bare skin. “See that I survive this battle, and you can name your reward.”
    Bronn tossed the longsword from his right hand to his left, and tried a cut. “Who’d want to kill the likes of you?”
    â€œMy lord father, for one. He’s put me in the van.”
    â€œI’d do the same. A small man with a big shield. You’ll give the archers fits.”
    â€œI find you oddly cheering,” Tyrion said. “I must be mad.”
    Bronn sheathed his sword. “Beyond a doubt.”
    When Tyrion returned to his tent, Shae rolled onto her elbow and murmured sleepily, “I woke and m’lord was gone.”
    â€œM’lord is back now.” He slid in beside her.
    Her hand went between his stunted legs, and found him hard. “Yes he is,” she whispered, stroking him.
    He asked her about the man Bronn had taken her from, and she named the minor retainer of an insignificant lordling. “You need not fear his like, m’lord,” the girl said, her fingers busy at his cock. “He is