Read Online Byzantine Heartbreak by Tracy Cooper-Posey - Free Book Online Page A

into the public hall. Despite the incredible heat of the day, the high vaulted roof and tiled floors kept the rooms at a tolerable level of heat until the late afternoon, when the slaves threw all the windows open to catch any cooling breezes.
    Salathiel stood impatiently moving from foot to foot in the foyer, his hands on his hips, watching the slaves unpack crates right onto the tiles.
    “Heavens, not onto the tiles, Lathe!” Nayara cried. “They’ll scratch them all!”
    “Nia!” He threw his arms around her and squeezed, his hands roaming up and down her body, feeling her flesh through the thin tunic. “Lord how I’ve missed you! Egypt was so hot I thought I was going to go up in flames. But I brought back treasures you’ll adore, love of my heart.” His lips caught hers in a kiss that took her breath away and immediately made her think of the lonely bed she had been enduring for months while Salathiel had been away on this voyage to Egypt.
    She tugged at his cloak. “Come,” she whispered. “Now.”
    Salathiel stroked her cheek, his blue eyes gazing into hers. “Soon,” he murmured. The heat in his eyes and the rigid heat in his body, pressed against hers, was promise enough. His hands were restless against her back and ass. “Soon,” he repeated. “But I want you to meet the man I brought back with me from Egypt. Another one of your kind.”
    Her heart jumped. “My...kind?”
    “Vampire,” he said softly, so the servants wouldn’t hear.
    There was the sound of more horses out the front of the house. More crates being unloaded and the sound of voices being lifted. One voice was lifting above them all. Giving orders. A strong voice, used to command.
    The voice was coming closer.
    Nayara extended her hearing.
    “...that crate there. Yes. That one. That is for the lady of the house. Be careful! It came all the way from a land beyond Egypt...Yes, you can bring that one into the house. Where is your master?...Thank you.” The man had a strange accent. Soft, lilting, like music to the ear.
    Then the sound of soft steps on the tiles. “Salathiel?” the voice called. “I’ve brought the second load, but there’s a third still at the dock.” The man came into view, moving around the pillars at the end of the foyer. He was dressed like an upper class merchant and was carrying a sack of his possession over one shoulder. He was clean shaven, like Salathiel. He had a refined chin and astonishingly pale skin, despite his black hair.
    But it was his eyes that captured Nayara’s attention. Like Salathiel’s, they were different from the endless dark and black eyes she saw most of in Constantinople. As the man drew closer, she saw they were a very light brown.
    And that he was staring at her.
    Salathiel let her go and held out his arm. “Ryan of Eire...I will not attempt to say your names one more time. I will embarrass myself. Meet the woman that is my life, my heart and my soul. This is the lady Nayara.”
    “Lady Nayara.” Ryan of Eire bent in a deep bow. “Salathiel has spoken so highly of you, these last few weeks, I scarcely thought the reality of you could do his praise justice. I see I was wrong.”
    Salathiel slapped Ryan’s shoulder. “He’s a fine one, isn’t he, Nia? He talks like that all the time. They’re all poets in his Eire, according to him.”
    “It is in the blood, some say,” Ryan agreed. But he was staring at her again. His eyes seemed depthless, like clear pools of water.
    Nayara shivered. “You must stay with us, Ryan of Eire,” she said.
    “This is your home, too?” Ryan said. He glanced at Salathiel. “I mean...forgive my curiosity. I thought...you said you were not married, Lathe.”
    “I am not,” Salathiel replied calmly. He clapped his hands sharply, then waved to dismiss the servants. They lowered the crates and moved out of the room, leaving the three of them alone.
    Nayara moved closer to Salathiel’s side once more. But she could not help staring at the