He went through the low trees to see her sitting at the water’s edge with her bare feet sliding in, her slippers next to her. She rubbed the red sand into her toes and rinsed them in the clear water. She did not look at him.
“Bonjour?” He spoke in French and then tried in Mongolian. “Saim bai-noo?” He watched her for a reaction. She had to understand something in nothing more than his body language or his good intent. Hehadgotten her safely away from Armin. He’d like to at least know that he had done the right thing by her.
She massaged her feet at the edge of the water as Michel came and sat next to her, careful to give her space. He felt the woman stiffen at his presence.
Michel draped his arms over his knees, his head turned her way.
“I wish you could communicate with me,” he pressed. “I have this sense that I offended you by exchanging money for you. But Itriedto have Veronica explain that you were free to go. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I expected something.” He pulled off his boots to rinse in the water as well, wishing she would see him as others knew him to be. “I hope to find someone who speaks the same dialect as you when we reach Turkmenabat,” he said. “We’ll figure it out. And I’ll help to get you home.” He paused, trying another tactic to pull some awareness out of her. “Though I sure do like looking at you. You are the prettiest woman I think I’ve ever seen.”
The woman said nothing, still dipping her toes.
“I’m glad I was there to help you in Merv.” She may not understand, but it made him feel better to say the words. “However you got yourself mixed up with that man, he was determined to get money out of you.” He shook his head. She had to be a runaway, but from whatever terrible thing beyond Armin he may never know. He paused before giving her a grin. “Youmay not have liked it, but having you fall into my arms wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to me.”
She was really just amazing. He rolled to his side, leaning on his elbow, unable to pull his eyes away.
“Maybe this is your life. Maybe looking like you do makes it easy to grift, and we just met on a day you got caught.” He couldn’t help teasing, eager to get a rise out of her, even though he didn’t really think this was the case. “Maybe you swindled Armin. Maybe you swindled me, too. I guess I’ll never know.”
She stretched out her legs, the hem of her dress soaking into the water. He watched as it bled up her calf. He cleared his throat to corral his thoughts. “I have to be very careful around you. Especially now.” He trailed off, pulling his eyes away from her, putting his focus back on the river.
“Before I came here, I met with Cardinal Mazarin.” He catalogued his woes for her, pretending this was a real conversation. “Our king is still too young to rule, so the Cardinal makes the decisions regarding trade, tax, that kind of thing.” Michel sighed. “He wants more money from the territories to offset his debt from the war with Spain. I promised to bring back new trade and new business to avoid the tax.” He sat back up and crossed his arms over his knees, clenching his fists to relieve some tension. “If I succeed, he won’t levy a tax. If I don’t succeed, I fear it could lead to a civil war.”
The water, trailing up toward her knee now, caught his attention again. He kept himself talking as a distraction. “Your people aren’t the easiest to negotiate with,” he grumbled. His eyes roamed over her. “It would be a great insult to the tribes if I were to harm you.” He swallowed, his voice going lower. “I wouldn’t harm you.”
The woman turned to him. Her mottled eyes focused on him, sparkling with concentration. She seemed to listen.
With a heavy, frustrated sigh at all the accumulating unknowns, he stood up and walked out toward the water, pulling his tunic off and tossing it back on the sand. He leaned down, cupping water with his hands and washing it over his face and chest, the cold sting of it feeling good on his overheated skin. He turned back to see that she was watching him. He grinned at her, friendly, as he hooked his thumb in the belting of his pants.
Rather than smile back at him, the woman stood up suddenly and dove beneath the water.
Once again, amused by her unrelenting confidence, Michel returned to the shore and sat back down, watching her. When she emerged, Michel’s mouth fell open, and his eyes went wide. The water poured off her, the thin material of her dress adhering to her skin, making the fabric nearly transparent. His heart thundered as she came toward him. The clinging fabric showed him everything—her breasts, her torso, the fabric dipping in a deep crevice between her thighs. She was no waif, and he suddenly forgot all his resolve. He forgot that there were men on the other side of the brush, that he had vowed to stay honorable.
She stood in front of him, watching him with intense concentration. Michel stared at her like an idiot. Water trailed from her hair and down her skin. She leaned forward, so her face was just before him, water beads splashing from her skin to his. He watched her as his heart stuttered. He felt a deep pull in his groin.
“Careful,” he said. He didn’t know if he was saying it to her or himself.
She looked into his eyes with that same commanding intensity, once again giving him that feeling that she wanted something from him. If he only knew what it was, he would do it. In that moment, she could ask anything of him. He didn’t understand the pull she had on him, but for once in his life of planning and practicality, he didn’t care.
“Siren,” he whispered. He had no other name for her, and his desire made the word come out deep and thick.
She responded by reaching forward with her open palm and clacking his jaw closed with her fingertips.
She tipped her own chin up, stood, and left him to head back toward the horses.
Michel twisted around to watch her, lust, concern, and frustration a confusing whirlpool inside him. Her body was fully on display as the dress tattooed her skin. He realized that once she crossed through the bush, the other men would have the chance to see her like this. He trusted his men as workers, but that didn’t mean he’d let them be alone with her or get a look at her like this.
“Stop,” he commanded. Words, language didn’t matter. His tone was clear.
She stalled and glanced back over her shoulder, her curiosity seemingly piqued. Michel jumped up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he’d become lightheaded from her attention. He picked up the tunic from the beach and jogged to her. He situated it and then dropped it over her head. Once he did, she let her arms find the sleeves.
Reluctant to let her go and return to the inattention he’d been getting from her, he thought to try to console her in some way. “There is something you want from me. That much I can understand. I would think that you just want to get home to where you are safe.” He spoke in Mongolian because he thought it was the closest he could get to something she understood. He reached to take her hand, tentatively, holding just her fingertips. “I know you don’t trust me. I understand that too. But I promise, if you give me some indication of what you need, I’ll do my best to help you.”
She stared at him a moment, then jerked out of his grasp. She turned, and Michel watched, the tunic giving her a shapeless form even as he continued to imagine the shape beneath it.
Mon Dieu, he thought. He was going to have to get her a more decent dress, if nothing more than to get those images of her wet and dripping out of his own head.
Several hours later, they entered the outlying markets of Turkmenabat, which were along the main shore of the Amu Darya River. As they passed through the streets, Michel made quick purchases to acquire the things he thought the woman would need, things she would like.
Michel would be staying in Turkmenabat for several days, switching out some of his crew and bolstering supplies. It was early evening by then, but before he could rest, he still had the laborious process of setting up camp and erecting the yurts that would house himself and the men. He made his way to the designated area just outside the town walls, alongside the river, where space had been cleared for his arrival.
