Read Online Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1 by Willow Danes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Willow Danes
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us.
Ra’kur gave a soft, soothing growl, stroking her back with his broad palm.
She swallowed hard and seized on what kept her going during the long days of Pap’s illness.
No use dwelling on what’s coming, make the most of now .
“I’m okay,” she said and let herself relax in his embrace.
With tender care he finished bathing her, even bending to wash one foot then the other. She shut off the shower and before she could reach for one he had her wrapped in a towel and was using another one to dry her face, arms, and legs.
His enthusiastic rubbing of her hair had her laughing and backing away before he could make the dark tresses into a complete tangled mess.
When he was dressed again and she was clad in jeans, T-shirt, and sweater he watched while she used the hairdryer on her hair.
His hair was shaggy, nearly to his waist, and she wondered if his people didn’t cut it or he just hadn’t bothered to.
“I used to cut Pap’s hair. I could trim yours,” she said, holding up the scissors. She ran her fingers through the still damp ends of his hair, and pantomimed the action. “Just a little bit, maybe just to clean up the very ends here?”
Ra’kur’s cheeks flushed and, dropping his gaze, he gave a short nod.
He was so tall and his hair long enough she didn’t even have him sit while she cut. The conditioner had made the strands soft, so black it shone blue as she ran her fingers though it. In all she’d only cut about an inch off but she thought it looked much better as she pulled away the towel that she’d used to protect his shoulders from the falling hair.
He’d stayed still, almost shy, as she’d cut but his body tensed when she started to dry his hair.
She thumbed the dryer off and cupped her hand over her ear as if trying to block sound.
“Is it too loud for you?” She switched the setting to low. “Better?”
He gave a relieved nod and she was mindful to keep the dryer away from his ears as much as possible.
One thing he especially liked was using the brush on her hair. He brushed and brushed, rumbling happily as he smoothed her long locks.
“I think that’s plenty,” she teased and he looked disappointed when she took the brush from him.
He followed her out into the living room. She debated whether to start another log burning now—the ancient furnace could use all the help it could get—or to wait till they came back from the phone search.
“What ‘Jenna’?” he growled.
Her brow creased. “That’s my name, remember?” She pointed to herself. “Jenna.”
His hair caught the light with his sharp headshake. “What ‘ Jenna ’?”
“I don’t understand. ‘Jenna’ is me.”
“Ra’kur.” He tapped his chest, then curled his huge hand into a fist. “ Strong .”
“Oh, you mean what does my name mean ?”
He jerked his chin at her. “What Jenna mean ?”
“What does Jenna mean?” she corrected automatically. “Pap said it meant ‘little bird.’ That’s why he called me ‘Birdie.’”
He blinked.
“Okay, way too many new words at once there.” She held her forefinger and thumb close. “Little.” She held up the gold charm that Pap had given her. “Bird. Little bird.”
“ Little bird .” He cupped her cheek with his hand and his alien eyes shone. “ Mine little bird. Jenna .”
Her vision blurred. For all its simplicity she’d never in her life heard such a heartfelt declaration from anyone.
He jerked his chin at her. “Water-eyes.”
“Yeah, guess you took me by surprise there,” she said with a shaky laugh. “It was nice though.”
He searched her face. “Water-eyes?”
“Because of what you said.”
His brow creased. “Water-eyes name .”
“Oh! You’re asking about my tears .” She pointed to her eye. “When humans’ eyes have water that’s called ‘tears.’ When I’m sad or hurt I have tears.”
“Sad?” He looked upset. “Hurt?”
Jenna waved her hand. “Or happy.”
He gave her a look that said
Ra’kur gave a soft, soothing growl, stroking her back with his broad palm.
She swallowed hard and seized on what kept her going during the long days of Pap’s illness.
No use dwelling on what’s coming, make the most of now .
“I’m okay,” she said and let herself relax in his embrace.
With tender care he finished bathing her, even bending to wash one foot then the other. She shut off the shower and before she could reach for one he had her wrapped in a towel and was using another one to dry her face, arms, and legs.
His enthusiastic rubbing of her hair had her laughing and backing away before he could make the dark tresses into a complete tangled mess.
When he was dressed again and she was clad in jeans, T-shirt, and sweater he watched while she used the hairdryer on her hair.
His hair was shaggy, nearly to his waist, and she wondered if his people didn’t cut it or he just hadn’t bothered to.
“I used to cut Pap’s hair. I could trim yours,” she said, holding up the scissors. She ran her fingers through the still damp ends of his hair, and pantomimed the action. “Just a little bit, maybe just to clean up the very ends here?”
Ra’kur’s cheeks flushed and, dropping his gaze, he gave a short nod.
He was so tall and his hair long enough she didn’t even have him sit while she cut. The conditioner had made the strands soft, so black it shone blue as she ran her fingers though it. In all she’d only cut about an inch off but she thought it looked much better as she pulled away the towel that she’d used to protect his shoulders from the falling hair.
He’d stayed still, almost shy, as she’d cut but his body tensed when she started to dry his hair.
She thumbed the dryer off and cupped her hand over her ear as if trying to block sound.
“Is it too loud for you?” She switched the setting to low. “Better?”
He gave a relieved nod and she was mindful to keep the dryer away from his ears as much as possible.
One thing he especially liked was using the brush on her hair. He brushed and brushed, rumbling happily as he smoothed her long locks.
“I think that’s plenty,” she teased and he looked disappointed when she took the brush from him.
He followed her out into the living room. She debated whether to start another log burning now—the ancient furnace could use all the help it could get—or to wait till they came back from the phone search.
“What ‘Jenna’?” he growled.
Her brow creased. “That’s my name, remember?” She pointed to herself. “Jenna.”
His hair caught the light with his sharp headshake. “What ‘ Jenna ’?”
“I don’t understand. ‘Jenna’ is me.”
“Ra’kur.” He tapped his chest, then curled his huge hand into a fist. “ Strong .”
“Oh, you mean what does my name mean ?”
He jerked his chin at her. “What Jenna mean ?”
“What does Jenna mean?” she corrected automatically. “Pap said it meant ‘little bird.’ That’s why he called me ‘Birdie.’”
He blinked.
“Okay, way too many new words at once there.” She held her forefinger and thumb close. “Little.” She held up the gold charm that Pap had given her. “Bird. Little bird.”
“ Little bird .” He cupped her cheek with his hand and his alien eyes shone. “ Mine little bird. Jenna .”
Her vision blurred. For all its simplicity she’d never in her life heard such a heartfelt declaration from anyone.
He jerked his chin at her. “Water-eyes.”
“Yeah, guess you took me by surprise there,” she said with a shaky laugh. “It was nice though.”
He searched her face. “Water-eyes?”
“Because of what you said.”
His brow creased. “Water-eyes name .”
“Oh! You’re asking about my tears .” She pointed to her eye. “When humans’ eyes have water that’s called ‘tears.’ When I’m sad or hurt I have tears.”
“Sad?” He looked upset. “Hurt?”
Jenna waved her hand. “Or happy.”
He gave her a look that said
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