She breathed out to finish her sentence. “I’m sorry, Michel,” Eve said. “To have brought this burden to you.”
“Your safety is not a burden,” he said. He touched her cheek, aware of the heaviness of her grief. He wanted to take it from her, to swallow up any fear she had. He let out a deep sigh. “If I had known of this trouble when I bought you...” He tilted his head, at least wanting to make her smile again. “I would have asked for a discount.”
She furrowed her brow and allowed a small laugh. “You did!” she said. She smacked him across the chest, accepting his playfulness, this reprieve. “Youdidnegotiate.”
“Well,” he said, letting the grin form. “I should have gotten you for much cheaper.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.
“Listen,” he continued, his voice softening, soothing. “You’re going to have to give me the full story. Not right this second, but soon.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Because,Siren,” he said. He reached forward to touch her arm. As soon as he made contact, he wanted more, and his hands went to her waist. He gripped her. “I have other things I want to think about when it comes to you.”
She bit her lip. “Like what?”
He continued, feeling his voice rumble low in his chest, “If I’ve figured you out like I think I have, then that means I may have a reward coming. For fighting off that brute earlier.”
He smirked, still playful, “Not required, of course, but happily accepted.” He pulled her closer and he felt the laces of her dress against his bare chest. One of the men may see them. He didn’t care. Let the world know his claim to this woman.
She put her hands on his chest and ran them lower, tracing his muscles with her fingertips down the tight diagonals until she was stopped by his belt. She sank her fingers under the fabric and gripped his beltline. “Yes,” she said, leaning up to whisper against his lips. “You do.”
Michel groaned, his body ready to buckle at her touch. He took in a sharp breath and gripped her arms, pushing her back. “Then let’s ride fast, or I will try and have you out here.” Before he left, he gripped the back of her head and pulled her close, taking the chance to taste her lips, sweet and plump—cherries, currants, wonderful things. Then he pulled away and grinned at her before jogging back up the bank to yell at the men to hurry themselves. He knew she watched him as he did. It made his desire ache even harder.
ChapterTwenty-One
They reached Samarkand a few hours later. Michel had rushed a man ahead to alert town officials of his early arrival. He wanted to set up their yurts inside city limits, and he was pleased to see that space had been cleared for them. He didn’t want to be near the edges of town where they would be more vulnerable.
Eve took over the camp preparations. Michel sent notes to his contacts, but it was late, so he didn’t expect to hear anything that evening. With nothing else to do, he set up the area inside his yurt, washed, and tried to help Eve prepare the dinner, which just made her balk at him because he got in her way. He couldn’t leave her alone. He didn’t care if he ate. He didn’t care if the fire was set up. He’d never wanted a woman with such intensity, and he never let desire get in the way of his responsibilities. He couldn’t think of anything other than her. He found himself pacing around her, stalking her, like a damn hyena.
Then, when he felt like he might not make it another second without touching her, she dusted her hands and turned to come toward him. He reached out, ready to drag her to him, into their yurt.
Then a voice gave him pause.
“Hello there!” said a man. It was Harod, a Frenchman and important merchant in the town, coming to make his acquaintance.
Michel dragged his gaze from Eve, with great reluctance, his body already protesting his duty to greet this man.
“I’m sorry I did not come sooner,” Harod said. “You arrived right at supper.” He was a portly man with red cheeks and a permanent grin. He held his belly at the mention of supper.
Michel greeted the man by shaking his hand. “Thank you, Harod, for the quick preparations this evening. I know you were not expecting us so soon.” Eve stepped closer, and Michel put his hand on the small of her back to bring her near. “This is Eve,” he said. “She is accompanying me on this journey.”
“Is she?” Harod said with a knowing smile. “My lady.” He nodded, his eyes going to her. Then he looked back at Michel and indicated toward the yurt. “Is this yours?”
“Yes,” said Michel. “Please. Let’s go in.”
They removed their shoes. The rest of the camp was settling down. It was quiet and cool. Many of the men were still sitting around the fire, enjoying drinks from their flasks, satiated by the dinner Eve had prepared. Michel held the flap open for Harod and waited until Eve entered as well. She let her body brush up against his as she passed, causing a pulsating tremor to run through him, urging him to end this meeting with Harod as quickly as possible.
They moved to the table at the back of the yurt. Eve began making tea for them. “Harod,” Michel said. “How can I be of service? I hadn’t thought to see you until morning.”
“Yes, it is late,” Harod said. “But my friend, I have to admit, I was eager to see you alive.”
“Alive?” Michel asked. “Has the gossip of my fight this morning beaten me here?”
“Another fight this morning?” he asked, giving Michel a wide-eyed look. “No, I thought perhaps you were a part of the group of Frenchmen who were slaughtered a few days ago.” He continued, always eager for gossip. “Who did you fight this morning?”
Michel stared at him. “Harod,” he said, too many questions forming. “What of this group of Frenchmen? I know nothing about it.”
