“I’ll get you the money,” I croak as I must turn away, not so much from him, but from myself. “Follow me—”
As I try to continue down the alley, he snags my hand and pulls me back. His palm is warm and callused, and it’s as if he touches me over my entire body, all at once.
My lips part and I stare at his mouth. “What.”
“I have to have you,” he says with urgency.
“You must be mad.”
“I am very sane.”
I gather up some of my cloak. “Are youcertainyou know what this is?”
“I can assure you, I do not wish to bed your woolen folds.”
He steps in to me, his body emanating a sexual energy that cannot be denied, ignored, or diminished. It’s what is under his surface, all the time, what every woman reacted to the second he walked into the pub.
“It’s quite another fold I am interested in,” he murmurs as he drops his head so his lips are by my ear, separated only by the hooding of my cloak. “A place that is warm and slick and welcoming to a male. Where I can leave something of myself behind, inside of you.”
I think of all the pleasure he’s surely given to so many females and take my arm out of his hold. Yet I can’t look away from his lips.
I sense his stare narrowing. “Why will you sell to others so easily what you will not give to me in return for a job I am very well good at? Especially when your life is in this kind of peril. I’m starting to take this personally.”
There are other ways of hurting a woman, I think to myself. And what is for him a transaction will be, for me, a piece of myself.
But do I really want to die untouched?
As I take a deep breath, I’m aware that there are two totally different negotiations taking place, and he’s only aware of the surface one. He thinks the terms are about sex, whereas I’m bartering with a bit of my soul.
“All right,” I tell him roughly. “If you take me to the Badlands, I’ll… give you what you want. But only when I say.”
His satisfied chuckle is deep in his chest, and very masculine. “Of course. I’m a mercenary, not a savage, you know.”
“Is there a difference?”
“I’ll prove it right now if you want. But there’s something to be said for discretion, don’t you think?”
My heart pounds, and I know I have to refocus. “We’ll see about that—”
As I go to take off once again, he recaptures my hand. “We have to seal the deal. It’s not official yet.”
Instead of shaking on it, however, he turns my palm over, and bends down farther, ignoring the danger we’re in. I stand transfixed as he massages the inside of my wrist with his thumb—and then presses his lips to my lifeline.
I have to close my eyes as he straightens. For the first time in my life, I can’t meet a man’s stare for a reason other than I don’t want to know his death: If I looked into this mercenary’s eyes right now, I’d burst into flames.
“Come on,” I say roughly. “I lead the way.”
I start running, following the alley farther down. The mercenary stays right behind me, his movements so silent I don’t hear him in my wake, even with all his weapons. When we get to the intersection of another alley, I pull up short and check for stragglers.
“To the right,” I say softly. “We go to the right—”
“I thought we were leaving the village.” He points over my shoulder. “The gate is back there, and now is a good time for me to overpower those two guards. They’re going to be distracted by the noise.”
I frown over my shoulder, focusing on that hard jaw. “You can’t kill them. They’re just farmers.”
“Oh, I assure you I very much can—”
“No!” I grab his arm and then retract my hand. “Youwon’thurt them. I hired you and I’m in charge.”
