“There is only one thing I object to,” he said with a kernel of annoyance in his tone and expression. “Thus do we rid you of it now.”

Shanelle watched her cloak sail through the opening into the front half of the tent. Out of sight, out of effectiveness?

She felt she had better clarify. “That doesn’t mean I’m no longer protected.”

“I am aware of this, yet was it inhibiting me.”

Inhibiting him, when his eyes had already been filled with that wildly turbulent emotion she’d seen earlier? If that was going to now be released…

It was purely instinctive at that point for her to draw back from him when his hands came toward her again. He noticed, though that didn’t stop his intent.

His fingers were now delving into her hair to loosen it. “Why is there fear in your eyes now, when before there was none?” he asked.

“Not fear, just-you seem a little too intense now, Falon, like you’re about to lose control.”

She had to brush his hands aside when he couldn’t figure out how to open the Kystrani binder that held her hair so tightly in place. She pressed the release mechanism at her nape, and her hair spilled down her back. Instantly, Falon brought it over her shoulder to hold in his hands, gazing at the golden length in wonder.

“I had not realized,” he said to himself as he pressed her hair to his cheeks, “this, too, would be magnificent. Gold has so little value here, yet on you it becomes a treasure.”

Shanelle took pleasure in hearing that, yet she still had self-preservation on her mind when he started to draw her forward by her hair. “You aren’t going to lose control, are you?”

“Would it reassure you to know I never have?”

“It would reassure me to know this won’t be the first time you might.”

“I cannot swear to it, woman. I have never felt this way before.”

“What way?”

His fingers came to her face to learn the feel of it, not roughly but not exactly gently. “It took no more than my first sight of you to know that I want you to belong to me.”

She wasn’t sure she understood. “But you can have me.”

“For now. And I am more grateful than I can say that you give yourself to me for this time, yet do I know this is only temporary.” His hands cupped her face then, bringing it closer to his. “Do you understand I want the right to command you? I want you cloaked in my protection, not that of another. That I am denied all means of obtaining you that are known to me is intolerable.”

His intensity was frightening and exciting her at the same time. But he was sounding more and more like a warrior, and that just increased her unease. Still she asked, “Is that the only problem?”

“No,” he said in all seriousness. “I have been ready to join with you since I first saw you, that powerful was my reaction to you. It has not lessened, kerima, it has increased. So I cannot give you the tender care I would like, yet you need not fear I will hurt you. Sooner would I leave you now than hurt you, and I cannot leave you now.”

She wasn’t exactly reassured. It was one thing for a man of normal size to get carried away by his emotions, but Falon was in no way normal-sized. Of course, that “tender care” he’d just mentioned he couldn’t give her could refer to the amount of time he would spend giving her pleasure, rather than the way in which he would handle her. On the other hand, how would he define “hurt”? Anything short of dead?

That did it. Her libido might still be jumping up and down at the sight of Falon Van’yer, and to be honest, she was thrilled to know he wanted her that much. But she had to be crazy to take this kind of risk, especially after he had already admitted that he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t lose control, that he couldn’t give her the tender care he would like to, which absolutely contradicted his assurance that he wouldn’t hurt her. And he was definitely too damn warriorlike to suit her.

She never should have come in here, never should have let it go this far. Now what was she going to do? Leave, of course, but without an ugly argument if she could help it. And she wasn’t at all sure he would just let her go now anyway. So she would have to trick him somehow, maybe into closing his eyes, and then slip out and disappear before he even knew she was gone. Easier said than done, with him presently holding her, she realized.

And then it occurred to her to put her fear, which he’d already noticed, to good use. “You know, Falon, we could wait a while, just until you’re not so-intense about this.”

“Do you jest?” he groaned.

“All right, so that option is out. Close your eyes, then, and no touching for a moment. I’m going to undress myself so my clothes don’t get demolished by those untender hands of yours. When I’m finished, you still aren’t to look. Looking can sometimes be stimulating, and we don’t want you any more stimulated than you already are if I’m to survive this.”

“You still think I will harm you?”

“Not intentionally.”

“I do not want you to fear me, woman.”

He said it so sternly, she almost released a nervous laugh. “Then let’s try it my way, okay? You start by closing your eyes.”

He did, and sat back on his heels, but his expression was a prime example of chagrined impatience. “I would prefer it did I demolish-”

That’s not an option.”

“Then best you hurry, woman.”

That was the best advice she’d ever heard, and she immediately started backing away from him, but she’d scooted only a couple of feet when his command stopped her.

“Talk to me, woman. Distract me from imagining what you are doing.”

Farden hell. But distraction wasn’t a bad idea, just in case she got caught sneaking out and had to talk her way out instead. Distraction might calm down his turbulent emotions, so he would be reasonable about it.

“Very well,” she said. “But you must continue to keep your eyes closed.”

“Must? I do not care for your habit of giving orders, woman.”

She ignored his grumble because he was still obeying her despite it. She supposed he just needed to file that protest for the record.

And just to reassure him, she said, “I wouldn’t presume to give you orders, Falon. Suggestions are more in my nature.” Especially with men his size, she thought with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. She scooted another foot back, raising her tone slightly so he wouldn’t notice. “Now, let’s talk about names and why you haven’t said mine yet even once. You did hear what my name is earlier, didn’t you?”

“I heard it,” he snorted. “Yet does it not have a womanly sound to it.”

Another foot got her off the pile of furs. “That’s true, which is why my mother loves it and my father won’t use it. It’s what my friends call me, but you-I guess you can call me anything you like.”

“I wish to call you mine.”

He said it simply, but with feeling, and the words shot straight to Shanelle’s core. She had wanted him to be able to call her his, too, before she got cold feet. What if he wouldn’t hurt her? What if she had let her anxieties get the better of her and would be missing out on the best thing that could ever happen to her?

Farden hell, she was doing it again, letting her attraction to him blind her to what was a clear fact. The man could crush her in his bare hands, and he was just too damn intense in his feelings. And that was not at all warriorlike.

“You’re very… possessive… aren’t you?” She scooted two more steps back and slowly rose to her feet. “That’s an old-fashioned trait on most worlds. What planet did you say you were from?”

“I did not say. Does it matter where I am from?”

“No.” She gasped, for he’d reached out for her as he asked it. “As long as you’re not from here.”

She turned and ran, then cried out as she was jerked to a halt by a fist in her hair before she even reached the opening to the front half of the tent.


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта: