His lashes drooped, but some of the sleepiness left his eyes as she trailed her fingers over his muscles.
“I do enjoy that,” he murmured. “It might work. I must warn you, however, that we have almost twenty tribes in our loose coalition. Even if I was willing to duel Shi and attempt to take control over ours, it wouldn’t change anything for the Kingdom.”
“You’d have a stronger voice, though, wouldn’t you? They’d have to listen to you, at least, right?”
“A month or two ago, they would have, but given my current questionable status with my people… I doubt I’d survive long as chief. As I mentioned, our people have a tendency to fix leadership situations they do not find palatable.”
“Meaning you’d get a dagger in the back because you might speak fondly of the Garden Kingdom queen?”
“Most assuredly. And I’ve made the mistake of speaking more than fondly. I’m composing a ballad, you know.”
“I didn’t know, but I doubt you’re unwise enough to sing about my glory or how wondrously the sunlight glints off my spectacles to your people.”
“So far, I’ve only shared a few lines with Agrevlari. As it so happens, Ihaveconsulted him on rhymes for spectacles. We came up with sentinels as being fairly close, but I’m mulling over how to fit that in.”
“That’s better than the words that popped into my mind.”
“Such as?” Vorik raised his eyebrows.
“Tentacles and testicles, neither of which I’d care to share lines of a ballad with.”
“No? I might be able to make those work logically into the tale. I’m creative.”
“To think, you don’t believe you have the talent to lead a tribe.”
“You know what Idohave talent for?” Vorik drew his fingers along her arm and then down her side, stirring heat and gooseflesh, and making her body tighten with anticipation.
“Are rhymes with spectacles involved?”
“You’ll find out.”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and for a while longer, she let herself forget her duties.
Vorik?
The telepathic inquiry woke Vorik from sleep, the glorious and exhausted sleep of a man who’d enjoyed awonderfultime with a woman. And not just any woman. Queen Syla, healer, defiant adventurer, and blackberry-cobbler-maker. His Syla.
Full darkness enshrouded the cabin when he opened his eyes, night pressing against the portholes, the lanterns havingburned out. Syla lay breathing evenly in his arms, and he wished the world hadn’t intruded. He wanted to enjoy the feel of her warm skin, her full curves pressed against him, the appealing way her hair lay tousled about her shoulders and breasts.
Ah, those glorious breasts. How he loved their shape, their weight in his hands, the taste of their skin under his tongue. The line of thinking made his groin stiffen, and the last thing he wanted was to answer a telepathic summons. Maybe if he didn’t respond…
Vorik?
It was Jhiton, his voice sounding distant but insistent. Was he leaving Harvest Island on a new mission?
I’m here, Vorik answered, though he didn’t want to. He wished his brother and all his plans to take over the Kingdom would disappear, at least for a time. Vorik wanted to stay where he was, not mull over ways to kidnap Syla or whatever else the general had in mind. Since Vorik could still sense Wreylith up above, he wouldn’t be tempted to try that, even if Jhiton wished it. Getting past the soldiers onboard might not be that hard, but a dragon could fly much faster than he could swim, especially with a captive in tow.
Do you know where the queen is?Jhiton asked.
I have a notion.
Are you in her bed?
In her bed as he contemplated her breasts and remembered the way she’d thrashed at his ministrations and groaned his name. Gods, that had been hot.She’dbeen hot.
Cheeks warming, he looked at the wall and willed himself to focus on satisfactorily finishing the conversation so that his brother would leave him alone. How under the eyes of the moon had Jhiton known where he was? Had Agrevlari said something? The dragon had an undesirable knack for knowing what Vorik was up to even from a distance.
I remain a captive,he answered.
