Daere shook her head. “Oh no, those who disappear on their guardian without telling them where they’re going, don’t deserve to be carried.”
Mist frowned. It was the first sign of a child’s normal rebellion, and Shea took heart at the sight. It meant Mist was beginning to heal from the horror of her past.
Daere gave her a no-nonsense look. “Don’t start. Your bedtime was over an hour ago. Let’s go. Say good bye to Shea. You can see her again in the morning.”
Mist held still for a moment longer before her shoulders slumped and she climbed to her feet.
Shea couldn’t help herself, giving the girl a hug. “I’m glad you came, my little one. I have missed you.”
Two small arms came up to wrap around Shea’s neck. “I missed you too.”
Shea sat back on her heels. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Mist looked briefly consoled before her face fell and sorrow filtered into her gaze. She shook her head. “Covath is going to need you.” She slipped her hand into Shea’s. “You’re going to have to go back, but I will wait for your return.”
Shea’s startled gaze lifted to Daere’s. The other woman looked no less surprised than she. Daere shrugged helplessly as Mist turned and trudged out of the tent.
“Has that been happening a lot?” Shea asked.
Daere shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen.”
Shea stared at the opening through which Mist had disappeared. She turned to Daere. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her while I’ve been gone.”
“It was no problem. Really.” Daere gave her a sideways glance. “Though if you’d like to say thank you, I’m sure a sharie will be held soon. They would love to have your ear to complain to.”
Shea blanched, shaking her head, not even trying to think of a diplomatic excuse for her absence. There was no chance that she was getting sucked down that road. If she never had to attend one of those extremely boring and tedious gatherings again, it would be a life well lived.
Daere’s smile deepened, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling. It was one of the few smiles Shea had seen Daere aim at anybody but Mist.
“You know, you’re pretty good with children,” Shea said, changing the subject. She almost wished she hadn’t when Daere’s face froze, the smile falling off it.
A mask slammed down, leaving only a glimpse of pain and grief so deep, it was a bottomless well.
Shea got the sense she’d stepped into something that should have been left untouched. Shea could respect that and didn’t pry. She knew something of loss too, and everything in her was telling her Daere had lost someone close to her, a child possibly. There were no words that could fill the void or ease the pain. If the other woman ever wanted to share, Shea would listen. That was about all she could do.
Daere gave her a nod before turning and following Mist out of the tent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Shea blew out a breath, feeling like three kinds of idiot over the encounter with Daere. Only she could put her foot in her mouth that completely after only a few minutes of conversation.
Shaking her head, she slipped behind the privacy screen and into the quarters she shared with Fallon. She came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Fallon, bare-chested, his shirt thrown across the bed, as he busied himself with a washcloth and bowl of water.
Seeing her preoccupation with all the bare skin on display, Fallon shot her a knowing smirk as he ran the washcloth down his chest to his lower abdomen. His chuckle was dark as her gaze followed his hand. The sound pulled at things low in Shea’s belly and her breathing grew ragged.
His smirk widened, morphing into a tempting smile. It spoke of sin and lust and things done in the deep of night. Shea couldn’t help but experience an answering warmth as she leaned back and gave him her own version of that smile.
He was a wicked man. Dangerous to all women. Good thing he was all hers and she was all his. Otherwise, there would no doubt be women fighting for the right to claim him if they ever got a glimpse of the look he was currently aiming her way.
“You know what I just realized,” he rumbled, dipping the cloth back into the water and running it over his neck and then down his arms.
“What’s that?” she asked after a long span of watching him.
He slid her a sideways look. “There are no spyholes here, no one to watch, no one to worry about. We’re alone.”
She kept her smile contained as she gave him an arch look. “If you don’t count the fact that you have several thousand Trateri warriors on the other side of that very thin piece of canvas, then yes we’re alone.”
He prowled toward her. “I’m not the one who always has trouble being quiet.”
