Read Online Claire Delacroix by Pearl Beyond Price - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Pearl Beyond Price
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fathomless appeal of those dark orbs. And those lashes. Had ever he seen such lavishly thick eyelashes? Like some forbidden princess she was and he wondered if she deliberately flaunted her appeal.
Thierry nodded once and shoved to his feet, having no interest in getting closer to her that he might loosen the knot himself. She sighed with relief when that scarf, too, was discarded. Thierry could not help but covertly watch the rise and fall of her full breasts at the gesture.
How well would she fit beneath his hand? Too easily he recalled the delicacy of her shoulders under his grip. Everything tightened within him and Thierry realized how long he had been alone.
Because he had no space in his life for the vulnerability women brought.
Somehow the reminder carried less conviction as he regarded the woman in the soft light. She watched him warily, as though she knew not what he might do, and Thierry collected his thoughts hastily. He leaned over to grasp her slender wrist and haul her to her feet.
She was so much tinier than he. For an instant Thierry appreciated anew the difference in their relative sizes. He liked the delicacy of her features, the fact that the top of her head did not even reach his shoulder, the fragility of the wrist within his grip.
She tipped her head back to meet his gaze questioningly. Her lips were full and soft. Thierry wondered how she tasted before the flicker of trepidation in her eyes hauled his thoughts back to matters at hand.
‘Twas best he ensured that she feared him. Her fear alone could eliminate his desire, and business there was to attend to. The sooner she surrendered the pearl, the sooner Thierry could see temptation out of the way.
* * *
The latrine pits were behind the camp and open to the four winds. The emptiness of the plains surrounding them gave Thierry no qualms at letting the woman have some measure of privacy. He turned his back on her and scanned the distant hills with disinterest, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Even if she ran from here, he would catch her before she got far.
And ‘twas far easier for her to search her own leavings.
When he heard her footsteps approaching, he glanced down at her, resolutely holding her gaze as he extended his hand once more between them. She shook her head firmly and he nodded.
A good draught of qumis was what she needed to set things on their way, he concluded. And the liquor would make her sleep soundly this night, as well, which was no small advantage, either. If he rode to battle on the morrow, Thierry certainly had need of his own rest. Little desire had he to spend his night awake and worrying about his fetching captive’s escape.
Qumis it would be.
* * *
Kira shot her captor a glance of scathing suspicion when he offered her a battered tin cup. When she hesitated, he lifted his dark brows once, then drained half the cup’s contents in one swallow. He offered the remainder to her once more.
Clearly she was supposed to drink it. Kira accepted the cup, sniffed tentatively and winced at its content’s foul odor. Swill! She glanced to the warrior dubiously. He nodded once, firmly, and let his fingertips stray suggestively to the hilt of his knife.
Drink or die. ‘Twas not much of a choice, but there was a possibility that this vile substance would not kill her.
A very small possibility.
But how would she ever force it down? Kira flicked a glance to the warrior, realizing in the same moment that there was no chance he might look away. She would have to drink it. She eyed the evil brew, took a deep breath and drained the cup in one swallow.
The liquor burned a path to her belly. Kira coughed at its unexpected heat and felt tears come to her eyes. The warrior swore under his breath. She took a shaky breath when she recovered herself and glared at him reproachfully through her tears.
He might have warned her that it was a concoction to be sipped.
The warrior said naught, merely refilled her cup. Kira almost rolled
Thierry nodded once and shoved to his feet, having no interest in getting closer to her that he might loosen the knot himself. She sighed with relief when that scarf, too, was discarded. Thierry could not help but covertly watch the rise and fall of her full breasts at the gesture.
How well would she fit beneath his hand? Too easily he recalled the delicacy of her shoulders under his grip. Everything tightened within him and Thierry realized how long he had been alone.
Because he had no space in his life for the vulnerability women brought.
Somehow the reminder carried less conviction as he regarded the woman in the soft light. She watched him warily, as though she knew not what he might do, and Thierry collected his thoughts hastily. He leaned over to grasp her slender wrist and haul her to her feet.
She was so much tinier than he. For an instant Thierry appreciated anew the difference in their relative sizes. He liked the delicacy of her features, the fact that the top of her head did not even reach his shoulder, the fragility of the wrist within his grip.
She tipped her head back to meet his gaze questioningly. Her lips were full and soft. Thierry wondered how she tasted before the flicker of trepidation in her eyes hauled his thoughts back to matters at hand.
‘Twas best he ensured that she feared him. Her fear alone could eliminate his desire, and business there was to attend to. The sooner she surrendered the pearl, the sooner Thierry could see temptation out of the way.
* * *
The latrine pits were behind the camp and open to the four winds. The emptiness of the plains surrounding them gave Thierry no qualms at letting the woman have some measure of privacy. He turned his back on her and scanned the distant hills with disinterest, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Even if she ran from here, he would catch her before she got far.
And ‘twas far easier for her to search her own leavings.
When he heard her footsteps approaching, he glanced down at her, resolutely holding her gaze as he extended his hand once more between them. She shook her head firmly and he nodded.
A good draught of qumis was what she needed to set things on their way, he concluded. And the liquor would make her sleep soundly this night, as well, which was no small advantage, either. If he rode to battle on the morrow, Thierry certainly had need of his own rest. Little desire had he to spend his night awake and worrying about his fetching captive’s escape.
Qumis it would be.
* * *
Kira shot her captor a glance of scathing suspicion when he offered her a battered tin cup. When she hesitated, he lifted his dark brows once, then drained half the cup’s contents in one swallow. He offered the remainder to her once more.
Clearly she was supposed to drink it. Kira accepted the cup, sniffed tentatively and winced at its content’s foul odor. Swill! She glanced to the warrior dubiously. He nodded once, firmly, and let his fingertips stray suggestively to the hilt of his knife.
Drink or die. ‘Twas not much of a choice, but there was a possibility that this vile substance would not kill her.
A very small possibility.
But how would she ever force it down? Kira flicked a glance to the warrior, realizing in the same moment that there was no chance he might look away. She would have to drink it. She eyed the evil brew, took a deep breath and drained the cup in one swallow.
The liquor burned a path to her belly. Kira coughed at its unexpected heat and felt tears come to her eyes. The warrior swore under his breath. She took a shaky breath when she recovered herself and glared at him reproachfully through her tears.
He might have warned her that it was a concoction to be sipped.
The warrior said naught, merely refilled her cup. Kira almost rolled
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