The toe of a leather boot prodded Lissa out of her sleep.
She jerked herself into a sitting position before she came fully awake.
The resulting wave of dizziness caused her to clutch her head with both
hands.
"This might help."
A small cloth bag landed in her lap with a soft "plop."
Her eyes, reluctant to stay open let alone move, rose slowly over the
figure before her. They took in the dusty leather boots and the masculine
knees that were bare save a covering of silky, copper-colored hairs.
Above the knees thick, corded legs disappeared under a strange blanket-like
covering of subdued earth tones with a worn, nearly indistinguishable
pattern. A thick leather belt held the folds in place around the trim
waist. A wide chest and broad shoulders covered in a roughly sewn shirt
slowly came into view. As her eyes greedily took in the details of the
torso, Lissa could feel an accompanying flush rise from her own chest.
It moved in tandem with her gaze, heating her flesh with an intense
awareness of the magnetism the man before her was exuding.
By the time the strongly chiseled face was reached, the warmth had spread
to her cheeks. Her gaze avoided his eyes, taking in the fine line of
the man's jaw. They caressed the prominent curve of his cheekbones and
noted the way his fiery hair framed a face full of potent promise.
The flush was growing, changing, as it reversed its path back to her
center. It curled there, but it was no longer merely heat. It was absorbing
the man's energy. Feeding on it. It pulsated with a rhythm that invisibly
vibrated between them.
A sudden ripple of unease marred that rhythm. As she met the disturbingly
blue eyes of the man, the events of the last twenty or so hours started
to creep back into her awareness and dampen the molten fire within her.
His stare never wavered and she was aware that she should feel anger,
even hatred toward him. Her sleep-shrouded mind was slow in dredging
up the corresponding emotions, blunted as they were by exhaustion and
the sudden fashion in which she'd awakened.
The pull and tug between her mind and her body were too much for her
to negotiate in her state. She could only stare at him uncomprehendingly.
He nodded at the bag.
"Food."
Her hands were slow, fumbling at the mouth of the bag. With a grunt
of impatience, he lowered himself into a squat next to her. Soon the
contents were dumped into her lap. There were two pieces of what must
be bread but looked like rough oatmeal pancakes and a hunk of smelly
cheese the size of her fist.
The odor of food registered before her mind could really take in its
purpose. Her stomach growled noisily. She reached for the cheese, but
found her hand quickly engulfed by one much larger and stronger than
her own. The heat in her flared at his touch. The urge to pull away
from him evaporated as his fingers flexed around hers. She could not
fathom why she would ever want them separated. Another small movement
of fingers prompted her to blink up at their owner, surprised to find
him still there.
"What did ye do to your hand?"
She looked down at the hand he spoke of, still in his grasp. All she
knew about her hand was she didn't want him to let go.
He rotated it until she could see a splinter approximately an inch long
imbedded in the flesh along the side. The area around it was already
turning an angry red.
"That'll need to be removed."
Before she could form the words to protest, he had both of his hands
wrapped around the wound. She tried to avoid staring at his profile
when he bent to study the offending piece of wood, but it was a weak
effort.
He tightened his grip and pressed at the base of the splinter. When
that did nothing to dislodge it, he tried to pry it out at the point
of entry. He frowned when his fingernails proved too short to grasp
the sliver. She watched him consider his choices and she drew in a breath,
hoping absently he would not stop touching her.
The decision was barely made in his eyes before he lowered his mouth
to do the job with his teeth.
As his lips touched the surface of her skin, the liquid heat convulsed
through her body to pool into the depths of want in her pelvis. Each
gentle nip of his teeth to her flesh compounded the feeling, sending
wave after wave of languorous sensation coursing through her limbs.
She felt awakened and lulled at the same time. Her senses recorded each
touch with increasing clarity and slow awe. Her eyes traced the solid
line of his bent head but found it difficult to focus on anything visual.
She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent of leather, horse, sweat,
and a certain masculine spice. Every point of contact between them sizzled
with electric awareness, leaving her energized, yet weaker than before.
A small voice warned her to pull her hand away and put a stop to this.
This was dangerous territory she was moving into, and she would regret
it deeply.
But the voice was a timid one, and was repeatedly drowned out by the
hum of his touch. A sudden wetness joined the assault on her senses.
The tip of his tongue caressed the trapped flesh, trying to tease out
the sliver. She could barely control her urge to move her hand against
his lips and entice his tongue to greater efforts. Her body shivered
at the effort.
When he also began sucking at the wound, she thought her entire body
would lift off the ground.
A small jolt of discomfort interrupted her pleasure. She started and
opened her eyes. A wave of disappointment coursed over her as the tide
of sensation ebbed. As he raised his head, it almost hit hers in the
process. She had not realized she had leaned in toward him.
With a small grunt of satisfaction, he plucked the wood splinter from
her hand with two fingers and flung it aside.
"There," he said, patting the wound. "Should be fine
now. 'Twouldna do to have ye die on me now, as I've so much planned
for ye."
He couldn't have woken her more quickly if he had thrown a bucket of
cold water over her again. The implications of his comment jerked away
the last veils of mist from her mind and flooded it with all the anger
and resentments that had been subdued by fatigue and slumber. The breath
she had not known she'd been holding exploded from her.
"And what exactly do you have planned for me?" she snapped
at him, yanking her hand from his grasp.
He seemed surprised by her reaction, his auburn brows raised slightly
in response. For one instant she saw something flash through his eyes
that indicated he noticed her heightened senses. For a moment he looked
questioning, but at the glare she forced from her eyes, he gave a quick
twitch of resignation. With a sigh, he remained in his crouch but shuffled
backward so he was just over an arm's length from her.
She recognized the gesture. The battle lines were being drawn.
